Page 112 of Playing Her Game

Silence stretches across the line.

"Where are you?"

Not are you safe. Not do you have shelter.

“Bavaria. Near Garmisch-Partenkirchen.”

"With the hockey player."

I close my eyes. “His name is Rez, and yes.”

"This is unacceptable."

"I can't control the weather, Mother."

"You could have controlled your choices before the weather became a problem."

My jaw tightens. “I’ll be there as soon as the roads open.”

"You will be there when you decide to prioritize your responsibilities over whatever distraction you've⁠—"

"I have to go."

I hang up before she can finish.

My hand shakes as I lower the phone. I’m not surprised. I knew what her reaction would be before I called. That’s what makes it worse—that stupid little girl inside me still wishes she would ask if I’m warm, if I have food, if I need help. Anything that suggests she cares about me instead of my obligations.

The door opens behind me, and I turn to find Rez standing in the doorway, pulling on his coat. His hair is rumpled from sleep, and his eyes go straight to me.

“Jesus, Anna. I thought you were stuck on the road, cold and hungry.” He glances toward the kitchen, where I’ve put away the groceries.

I hold up my phone. "The road's closed. We're snowed in."

He steps out onto the terrace, his boots crunching through the snow as he comes toward me. His gaze moves from my face to the buried car, then to the drive where the road used to be.

"How long?"

"No estimate. The alert just says impassable conditions."

He studies the snow for another moment, then looks at me. “You called someone.”

It's not a question.

"My mother. I was supposed to be at dinner.”

His jaw tightens slightly, but he doesn't ask what she said. He can probably guess.

"Let me see."

I hand him my phone, and he scrolls through the traffic alerts, his expression unreadable. When he’s done, he passes it back.

“We’re not driving anywhere until they clear it. Could be tomorrow. Could be longer.”

"I know."

He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from him despite the cold. "Come inside, Anna."

I follow him back through the door, and the house’s warmth wraps around me immediately. He shuts the door behind us and nudges me toward the couch.