Chapter Eighty-seven

Ice stared at himself for a few seconds, stared at the stars and the snow, and realized that if the dream came that night, it wouldn’t happen while he was alone. She would be here, and if he couldn’t go back to sleep, she’d get up with him. She’d sit in that massive leather chair with him, and she’d drink her sweet coffee, and she’d watch the pink and violet dawn break over the mountains, witness the golden sun touch and warm the icy caps. She’d listen if he wanted to talk, or she’d hold his hand if he didn’t.

That was when he knew that he was doing the right thing. Maybe for the first time in a long, long time.

He returned to his bedroom, then sat on the mattress carefully, cradling a small box in each hand.

“Vix?”

She heard it in his voice, and right away her sleepiness fled, those incredible eyes wide awake, alert. “Yes, Ice?”

“I want to show you something. Two things, actually.”

“OK.” She carefully adjusted herself, sat up a bit straighter. “What are they?”

He opened the first bo