Lena had never expected to be staying at her ex’s family cabin again, especially after their bitter breakup. Yet, here she was, standing at the doorstep, lugging her suitcase. Of all the places to crash after her apartment flooded, she couldn’t think of a worse one.
Her ex, Jack, answered the door, his face betraying no emotion. His dark hair was longer than she remembered, and his gray eyes held that same sharp intensity she’d once adored.
“Didn’t think you’d show up,” he muttered, stepping aside to let her in.
Lena glared, her pulse quickening. “I didn’t plan on it. But you’re the one who insisted I stay, so here I am.”
The cabin hadn’t changed since they’d stayed there together—sunlight filtered through the pine trees, casting soft shadows on the wooden floors. She set her bag down and looked around, feeling the weight of memories tugging at her.
Jack cleared his throat. “I’ll show you to the guest room.”
They walked in silence through the cabin’s narrow hall, their footsteps echoing like some sad, unspoken apology. He opened the door to the room—a small, cozy space with a single bed, unmade.
Lena stood there, arms crossed. “I didn’t think you were the ‘let’s sleep in separate rooms’ type.”
Jack’s mouth twitched into something between a smirk and a grimace. “We’re not a couple anymore, Lena.”
The words stung more than they should have, but she bit back the hurt. “I remember.”
As Jack left her to settle in, Lena couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. She turned, only to find Jack lingering in the doorway, watching her with that ever-present tension in his gaze.
“You know,” he said, his voice low, “this was always supposed to be our place. Not just yours, not just mine.”
She swallowed, anger flaring again. “We didn’t work out. It’s not your place anymore, Jack.”
He took a step closer, his voice softer but no less insistent. “Why’d you leave, Lena?”
She wanted to scream. He was the one who’d betrayed her, the one who’d lied, who’d kept secrets. Yet here he was, playing the victim, looking for answers she no longer cared to give. But still, something in her twisted.
“I left because you weren’t honest with me,” she said. “Because you didn’t know how to be real with me.”
Jack flinched, as if the words hit harder than expected. “I tried, Lena. I tried so damn hard. But you just... you never saw it.”
Her eyes burned. “Saw what? The part of you that wasn’t just a convenient lie?”
Silence hung between them, thick and uncomfortable. He turned his back to her, then paused.
“Look, we have to share the cabin for the next week. Can we try to just... pretend we don’t hate each other?”
Lena’s chest tightened. She wasn’t sure if she hated him, or if she just hated the hole he’d left in her heart. But for the moment, the offer to pretend wasn’t so bad.
“I can do that,” she said, her voice quieter than she expected.
---
A few days passed. The awkward tension between them never quite left, but something had changed in the air, too—an undercurrent of things left unsaid, and things that never fully healed.
One night, a storm rolled in. The wind howled outside, the rain battering against the windows. Lena found herself wide awake, staring at the ceiling. The noise was almost deafening, and the thought of spending the night alone in the small, creaky room filled her with unease.
She hesitated for a long moment before opening the door to Jack’s room. Her heart raced as she stepped inside, the familiar scent of cedarwood filling her nostrils.
Jack was sitting up in bed, his gaze on the storm outside. He didn’t turn when she entered, didn’t acknowledge her presence. But the space between them felt charged, like something fragile.
“I can’t sleep,” Lena said, breaking the silence. “The storm.”
Jack glanced over, a hint of that old, conflicted warmth in his eyes. “You want to stay here?”
She bit her lip, considering it. Then, with a sigh, she nodded. “I guess.”
Jack pushed the blankets aside, making room for her. She climbed in, the bed still warm from his body. They both lay there in silence for a while, listening to the storm’s fury outside. She could feel the weight of his presence beside her, the quiet tension that always seemed to settle between them, just out of reach.
“Lena,” Jack said suddenly, his voice raw. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
She turned her head, looking at him through the dim light. “Then why did you?”
He exhaled slowly. “I thought I could protect you from the parts of me I hated. From the parts of me that couldn’t be fixed. I thought if I pretended, you’d never see it. But I was wrong.”
Lena’s heart twisted, something inside her shifting. She could feel the remnants of her anger, but now, there was something else. Something softer. She rolled onto her side, facing him fully.
“You didn’t have to protect me,” she whispered. “You just had to let me in.”
Jack looked at her, his eyes searching hers, as if trying to read a language he’d forgotten. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek, his touch tentative but real.
And in that quiet moment, with the storm raging outside and the space between them finally closing, Lena realized she hadn’t hated him at all. She just hadn’t known how to love him back—not the way he needed. Not the way they needed.
Without a word, Jack pulled her closer, and she let herself go.
