The Last Unread Voice Message

We checked into our private cabin at the foot of the mountain.

The plan was to ski tomorrow, but I had no intention of going.

So I only grabbed my overnight bag, leaving the ski gear in the trunk.

Samuel parked the car and, with a rare flash of perception, noticed I hadn't brought all my bags.

"Where's your ski gear?"

I shrugged it off.

"Forgot to grab it."

But I didn't turn back to get it like I normally would.

I swiped the key card and entered the suite, Samuel following with the rest of the luggage.

Seeing me on the floor, rummaging through my suitcase, he walked over.

"Are you angry?"

I didn't look up. "No."

The next moment, he pulled me to my feet and into his arms.

His hugs were always like that—warm, all-encompassing, a blanket smothering any simmering emotion.

When we were younger, I only saw him as a senior from the business school. It wasn't until he'd dealt with a clinging ex for me, holding me close to calm my frayed nerves, that I’d felt my heart hammer against my ribs.

A world away from the steady, tired rhythm in my chest now.

Samuel chuckled softly. "You're jealous, aren't you? Because I brought Chloe along."

I only agreed because she was his old friend, I thought bitterly. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have given her the time of day.

He cupped my face and peppered it with light kisses.

"Chloe said you get petty, and I didn't believe her. Guess she was right."

His laugh was like a needle prick to my already bruised heart.

Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at it and shook his head with a resigned sigh.

"Chloe says the blankets in her room are too rough. I'm going to bring her a few."

He then bent down and pulled the entire stack of Loro Piana cashmere blankets from my suitcase, leaving just the two scratchy, hotel-issued ones behind.

It was two hours before Samuel returned from the suite next door.

I looked at the empty space in my suitcase where the plush blankets had been and felt a sudden chill.

I remembered the time I forgot my bathrobe after a shower. It was right there, within his reach, but he'd been too lazy to get up from his desk to hand it to me.

Now, he'd just walked the entire length of the hallway from his suite to Chloe's.

He didn't even think to say no.

Samuel didn't return to our room until late. He seemed to want to say something, but he found me already in bed, my back turned to him, feigning sleep.

When I opened my eyes the next day, Samuel was already in his ski suit, adjusting the goggles for Chloe, who was somehow already in our room.

"The strap needs to be tighter, or snow will get in."

Chloe stuck out her tongue playfully. "You're so thoughtful, Samuel."

Watching them, I sat up.

"You two go have fun today. I'm not going."

I hadn't planned on going anyway. Watching their easy chemistry, I knew I'd just be in the way.

"Ava, you're awake? What did you just say?"

Chloe blinked, then patted Samuel's arm.

"Ava's talking to you. Say something."

A smirk touched Samuel’s lips. "You think she's like you? Needs to be coaxed out of bed?"

He turned to me. "I wanted to let you sleep in, so I didn't wake you. Hurry up and get ready. We're about to head out."

Then he grabbed his gear. "Chloe, let's go downstairs first. We'll wait for Ava in the lobby."

I rose from the bed and walked to the panoramic floor-to-ceiling window, looking down.

Chloe walked ahead, constantly turning back to laugh and chat with Samuel.

He followed close behind, actually laughing and responding to her—a stark contrast to the clipped, one-word answers he usually gave me.

They always had endless things to talk about.

I didn't like extreme sports or outdoor adventures.

I couldn't join Samuel on his beloved cave dives, heli-skiing, or skydiving trips.

But in all our years together, I never thought that was a problem.

Two people didn't have to be identical to be together.

But looking at Samuel's smile now, I knew he was happy today—a hundred times happier than when he spent a "boring" weekend with me, tasting the cocktails I'd mixed.

I opened my chat with Samuel.

He was already urging me to come down.

I wanted to type 'Let's break up,' but my fingers felt heavy, stiff.

So I sent a voice message instead.

"You guys go ahead, I'm not going."

Then a second one.

"Samuel, we're over. Let's break up."