His apartment was designed in a stark minimalist style, and he'd once complained half-jokingly that I'd turned it into a cozy mess since I'd started staying over.

Yet my true personal items fit easily into a single suitcase.

As I reached the door, he called out to me. Bare-chested and leaning casually against the frame, he flicked a lighter to his cigarette.

"Nora, you're not getting any younger," he said through a puff of smoke, his lips twisting into a half-grin. "Find a good guy and settle down. We'll stay friends, yeah?"

I caught his meaning and nodded. "Yeah."

...

Eldonfield's winters were damp and insidious—not bone-chilling, but the kind of cold that seeped straight into one's core.

Flurries danced down, tiny wet specks kissing my nose. Glancing up, I saw the once-clear sky had turned moody, with fine snow whirling on the breeze.

Eldonfield hadn't seen a proper snowfall in years; ever since I'd followed Ted here, the winters had felt stripped of their former magic.

Memories pulled me back to my northern coastal hometown, where sea gales transformed moisture into thick, fluffy blankets overnight.

By dawn, the snow would bury everything knee-deep in pristine white—a bold, exhilarating sweep, unlike this city's clingy drizzle that tugged relentlessly at the heartstrings.

I dumped my bag and sank onto a bus stop bench, dialing home. My mom picked up quickly, her tone buzzing with cautious hope. "Nora?"

The cold air nipped at my nose as I rubbed it, soothing the burn. "Mom, I'm craving your apple pie."

Alice Pledge perked up immediately. "I'll whip one up! Let me check flights. Holidays are coming, and tickets might be tough..."

"No need," I cut in. "I'm heading home for Christmas this year."

A pause followed, then pure delight. "For real?"

"Yep." I tipped my head back, a flake stinging my eye as I blinked back tears, my voice growing thick. "Actually, I'm thinking of moving back for good."

...

That afternoon, I submitted my resignation.

My boss tried hard to keep me. "Is it the salary? Let's talk about bumps. The manager is leaving next year, and you're next in line. Walking away now would be a huge mistake."

I smiled softly and shook my head. "I appreciate it, Gloria, but I need to spend time with my folks back home."

Ambition had never been my driving force. I had no dreams of climbing ladders or becoming someone important—just a desire for a quiet, content life.

I'd followed Ted to Eldonfield because he was building his career here.

I had been convinced that if I stayed by his side long enough, he'd eventually see me. But love, it turned out, couldn't be forced through sheer persistence.

On my way to the hotel, a curbside bookstore was blasting lyrics that struck a chord.

"I don't care what they say, I'm in love with you. They try to pull me away, but they don't know the truth. My heart's crippled by the vein, and I can't stop crying..."

I lingered there, the words echoing my own story. I first met Ted at 17 and had bent myself for him ever since.

Now I was hitting 30, and this madness had to end.

That night, dreams transported me back to the teenage Ted—the boy who had transferred to our small-town high school in his sophomore year.

While the other boys were still scruffy and unpolished, he arrived in a black down jacket, with curls framing his forehead and a tall, lean frame that made him stand out.

Ted was stunning, as if he'd stepped from another world. By that afternoon, girls from every grade had crammed against the windows, gawking at him.

A few days later, even the prom queen slipped him notes, but he brushed them all off, preferring to doze in the back row as if nothing mattered.

He ignored books and lectures alike, and the teachers turned a blind eye. Only during tests would he nudge my back and say, "Hey, let me copy your answers."

He seemed to assume I'd comply, and I did. That irritated the other guys, who branded him a show-off and started picking fights with him every few days in the alley behind the school.

I'd catch glimpses of those brawls almost daily.

One evening, as I biked past, I spotted him slumped against the wall, smoking through a battered face. I hesitated, then braked and fished a Band-Aid from my pocket.

"You're bleeding," I said, offering it to him.

He glanced up with an icy stare. "Scram."

What a jerk! I wasn't crushing on him; it was just basic decency.

After that, I ignored his nudges for answers. A month later, his admirers dwindled, but the rumors only grew.

Some said that his jacket was from some obscure luxury brand, costing 30 grand. Others whispered he was the son of a mistress, abandoned when the wife discovered the affair. His mom couldn't handle life in Eldonfield anymore, so they'd returned to their roots.

The stares shifted, blending envy with scorn and a twisted curiosity.

One dusk, as I biked through the alley on my way home, I found him sprawled on the ground in the aftermath of a brutal fight.

His knuckles were bloody, his face marred with cuts. Blood trickled from his forehead.

I nearly kept pedaling, but the falling snow had half-buried him, and his pallor was ghostly. Worried, I approached and nudged him gently. "Are you okay?"

Getting no response, I panicked and pulled out my phone. "I'm calling 911."

Only then did he crack an eye open, frowning. "It's you again."

I was annoyed, but urgency took precedence. "You're really messed up. Let's get you to the hospital."

"Mind your own business," he spat, his lids dropping again.

I dialed anyway. He was shivering in just a black hoodie, so after a moment's hesitation, I shrugged off my red down jacket and draped it over him.

He tensed and called out as I turned away. My faded, frumpy coat looked almost comical on him. "You know my mom is a mistress, right?"

I mounted my bike. "I've heard the rumors. And?"

"Then why help me?"

"You're not her. Being the other woman sucks, but it's not a death sentence."

Silence fell as snow dusted his lashes, and he stared at me. The sirens began wailing in the distance, and I waved. "Don't forget to return the jacket."

He was absent for a week after that, and his opponents fared no better.

His mother, Mamie Hubbard, stormed into the school, resulting in their expulsion all around.

A week later, Ted returned and handed me a blue down jacket, averting his eyes. "Yours got trashed. This is a replacement."

I accepted it without question. It was only much later that I learned its value could have bought every piece of clothing I'd ever owned.

From there, things gradually eased between us. He thawed toward me, and I became his only friend in that small town.

Just before finals, he suddenly asked, "Have you thought about studying abroad?"

I blinked in surprise, and he flushed, his ears turning red. "My mom's planning to send me to Araros after graduation. Want to join?"

I gave a bitter laugh. "My family can't afford to send me overseas."

"Where are you headed, then?"

"Nyxifall, probably. The south is too muggy for me, and Nyxifall's close enough that I can hop on a train and be home in a few hours."

He yanked my hat down over my eyes and fell silent. During the dream schools exercise, I expected him to list Araros, but instead, he matched my choice of Nyxifall.

I was shocked. "What about Araros?"

He slumped over his desk. "Nah, it's overrated. Nyxifall sounds solid."

...

Three days before the exams, he ripped up his slip.

When I probed, he stayed silent. That night, I learned the truth: Pierre Wiley's wife and son had both perished in a car crash, and he was summoning Mamie and Ted back.

Pierre finally paid attention to his one remaining heir, offering legitimacy and inheritance if Ted stayed in Eldonfield.

Ted scoffed at the money, but Mamie slapped him amid tears. "All the suffering I've endured over the years for what? For you! If he marries me, I'll no longer be the mistress, and no one can call you a bastard anymore!"

Under the birches in the summer heat, with cicadas droning loudly, Ted hung his head. "I'm sorry, Nora. Nyxifall is out for me."

His voice was cracked from crying, his eyes rimmed red. After a moment's thought, I tiptoed up and tapped his head. "No sweat. I'll join you in Eldonfield instead."

...

Morning light filtered in, and I opened my eyes, my head pounding from yesterday's flurries.

Still, my friend's birthday beckoned. Gift in hand, I couldn't skip it.

My phone buzzed with a message from Ted: [Forgot these. Swing by tonight.]

Attached was a photo of the Snoopy pajamas.

They were a sneaky couple's set I'd bought—one for him, one for me. Whenever he wore his, it sparked a fleeting illusion of happiness, as if he belonged to me, even if just for a moment. In hindsight, it was pathetically laughable.

I replied: [Toss them. Don't need them anymore.]

There was no response, and I flopped over, covering my eyes with my arm.

Life in Eldonfield had changed Ted profoundly. I learned then that his mom hadn't been the mistress after all. She had been Pierre's first love, bearing Ted out of genuine passion.

But Pierre had abandoned them for a status-matched marriage.