"Why would I help you? If I hadn't been here today, you would've gotten Bryan killed!"
"Climb out yourself. If you manage to survive, you'd better apologize to Bryan. And if anything happens to him, we're getting a divorce!"
"You don't deserve to be a father!"
My strength gave out. The voices above went silent. No matter how desperately I begged, no one reached down a hand.
I couldn't wait any longer.
I was going to die.
I couldn't wait any longer.
I took the gamble. I let go and threw myself toward the lifeline.
I caught it.
I hauled myself over the edge with every ounce of strength I had left, my heartbeat hammering so loud it drowned out the wind.
Nothing but white in every direction. Not a single figure in sight. They really hadn't come back for me. Every last one of them had left.
Whether I lived or died, they couldn't have cared less.
Base camp was still more than ten miles away. I'd survived the fall, but I felt no relief.
Even with the GPS locator on me, walking that distance in these conditions could kill me just as easily.
But now there was no other choice.
I clenched my jaw and plunged into the blizzard.
In extreme cold, the instruments at base were prone to malfunctions. Wearing gloves made equipment repairs difficult, so when I'd fallen into the crevasse, I'd already lost mine. Between the strain and the freezing temperatures, my fingers had gone completely numb.
As a meteorologist, I understood environmental shifts better than anyone. The snow was falling harder. Wind tore through the rips in my thermal suit. Visibility had dropped to less than thirty feet, the world reduced to a wall of white.
Cut off from the base station, starving and frozen, I ground my teeth and kept walking.
I'd given up my research position back home for Georgina and her pregnancy, applied to join the Polar Expedition Team.
I'd been afraid she'd suffer out here, so I'd volunteered to shoulder the hardship myself.
And in the end, I'd been building a life for someone else to enjoy.
The baby I'd looked forward to more than anything wasn't mine.
The woman I'd trusted most in this world had chosen to abandon me.
My legs were numb. My whole body shook uncontrollably.
If I can just survive this...
Clinging to that single thread of will, I walked for what felt like an eternity. When the lights of the base station finally appeared through the snow, something inside my chest loosened.
I staggered to the door and pulled the handle. Once. Twice.
Locked. No matter how hard I pounded, it didn't budge.
The wind cut through me like a blade. Inside, the crew had heard me. They sat in a circle, watching. Georgina handed Bryan a mug of hot tea, then draped another blanket over his shoulders.
"Lucky bastard. He actually made it back alive."
"I knew nothing good would come from him joining the expedition. We absolutely cannot let him off easy this time."
Georgina glanced down at the scrape on Bryan's leg, her expression full of tender concern. Then, in front of the entire team, she gave the order: no one opens that door.
My fingers were dead. My legs had stopped registering the cold. I locked my eyes on that door, jaw clamped shut, and kept knocking. I didn't stop.
Finally...
"You want to come in?"
Bryan coughed twice and looked at me. Something mean flickered behind his eyes.
"You want in? Then get on your knees and apologize."
"Oh, come on. Letting him off with just that? Isn't that a little too easy?"
Georgina frowned, swatting Bryan's arm with a playful pout, not sparing me a single glance as I called out from the other side of the door.
Bryan reached over and rested his hand on her stomach, his tone light and easy.
"It's fine. I won't hold it against him. He's the baby's father, after all. And your husband."
"I don't blame him. It was my fault. If I hadn't gone abroad back then, you wouldn't have had to..."
He trailed off. Their eyes met, and the tenderness between them filled the silence. There was no room in that gaze for anyone else.
My heart seized like a fist was crushing it. I'd already lived through this once. But standing here again, watching it unfold, the pain was no less unbearable.
