Half the pan of peppermint bark was gone. A box of sausage and mushroom pizza was empty, and two mugs of empty Wassail sat on the living room table. Zara's feet, stuffed in red socks with jingle bells laid on top of the table also, while she slept against the sofa pillows. The food, and laughter from binge-watching Christmas movies had taken its toll on Zara. She'd be out for the night.

It was four in the morning when Roman stirred. Sliding his arm from under Zara, he walked to the window. Though snow was still falling, it wasn't blizzard proportions. Looking down from his penthouse, the city appeared tiny and peaceful. The world beneath was a white blanket, with snow packed trees that looked like polar bears. Trucks the size of big dots, pushed something white from their underbellies. He knew that it must have been snowplowed meaning that the streets were still clear. "Not good," he whispered. Roman wanted the roads closed, the highways shut down and the airports grounded.

He glanced over to the reason, asleep on his sofa. Not knowing whether to put her in bed or let her remain there. Zara looked comfortable; so he didn't disturb the peace. It took a few minutes to clear the table of their leftovers. Instead of washing the mugs, he placed them in the dishwasher. Roman cut off another piece of peppermint bark before wrapping it and putting it in the refrigerator. Easing back into the room, he sat in a chair across from Zara but bumped the table by accident. When he looked up, two sleepy eyes stared at him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay. What time is it?"

"A little after four."

Zara covered her mouth and yawned, then stretched out like a cat. She observed the table cleared and saw his footprints in the carpet near the window. Something must have been on his mind. "Why are you up?"

Checking to see if my prayer got answered, apparently not yet. "I think I ate too much sugar. That was the best peppermint bark that we've ever made together."

"Second best," she yawned.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"No, remember the time that we were at your parent's cabin? We snuck in the kitchen and poured eggnog in the white chocolate."

Easing back in the chair, he grinned. "You mean the 'RUM-NOG.' We got buzzed and my parents didn't know what had happened to us. You couldn't stop giggling the entire night."

Roman and Zara both had a way of remembering that story and stopping at that point. Neither of them ever ventured past the buzz and giggle. But since she'd brought it up, and he was on a mission to get her to admit that she loved him as much as he loved her – why not push it.

"We didn't just pour the rum in the chocolate," he said. "It was you and I, two shot glasses and the bottle behind the barn."

Zara's face turned fire-engine red. She removed the blanket that covered her. "I've got to use the restroom. I'll be right back."

Roman stood up, standing between Zara and the hallway. "No – we always walk away from the truth. Can't we for once just deal with this?"

She walked around him, heading down the hall. "I said that I have to use the restroom."

"You're avoiding the subject, as always. Please don't shut me out." He waited until he'd heard the bathroom door close before he walked down the hall and sat in front of the door. "We were fifteen and doing what fifteen-year-olds do. I wonder if you had let me love you then where would we be now?"

The bathroom countertop used to be a safe place to avoid conversations. The fact that Roman followed her down the hall stunned her. She sat with her legs dangling from the countertop. He's not backing down this time.  "Can't I have some privacy?"

"You know that you're sitting on the sink." The sound of Zara sucking in her teeth confirmed it. "We've wasted so much effin time. Do you know why that night upsets me, Zara? It was because it was so wonderful. We were drunk and that alcohol loosened us up to feel and explore. Neither of us knew what we were doing."

"Stop, Roman."

"We just gave in to our emotions and I didn't have to take your clothes off to do that. It was freezing outside, but we didn't feel the cold – just the heat of innocent-throbbing passion. I wanted to feel you, Zara. I put my hands under your shirt, touching – and you knocked me off of you as if I had been a plague."

"I don't want to talk about this."

"No, I won't stop this time. What did I do that night that repulsed you so?"

"I felt embarrassed."

"You felt embarrassed with me, but a month later you gave your virginity away to some asshole that didn't give a shit about you. When you knew how much I cared for you. What the hell, Zara?"

The bathroom door flung open. She stomped out of the room.  She looked down on him with narrowed eyes.

"Are we going to do this again? You're just going to walk away?" he said.

Clutching her hips, she glared at Roman. Feeling rattled wasn't a good thing; but she stood, with emotions split. Part of her was desperate for confrontation. She tired of running from this man. The other part had been beaten down so much that she felt unworthy of Roman.

Her mother had attacked her and her relationship with Roman so many times. Reminding her that no man would want her unless she got 'skinny' like the rest of the women. As she stood over him, her mother's voice was clear and cold, in her mind, as the winter night's sky...

***

"I saw that mark on your neck. I don't see why you keep hanging around that boy. He doesn't want a fat slob like you. He's just sniffing and poking around for something easy."

"He's not like that, mama."

"Yes, he is. They all are. Nobody else is looking at you, Zara, and he knows that. He'll get into your stuff, girl, with the lights out. Then he'll be on the streets with some skinny ass."

"I hate you. You're wrong."

"Am I, now?" Mrs. Peters pointed to the mark. "Where did that thing happen? Fooling around at his parent's house while they weren't at home, or somewhere like the backwoods in a car where no one would ever see him with you?"

***

Thoughts muddled in her mind as she discarded those demeaning words. This whole matter was disorienting. Roman's words stung deep. She never imagined that he was upset about the situation surrounding her virginity. Not one time had that ever surfaced. She had told Roman about every man in her life. Zara never had a hard time getting into relationships.  Over the years she'd told Roman about a slew of them.

He was her friend; of course, he'd listen. Zara never wanted to know anything about his relationships – couldn't bear it. He rarely discussed them. But now face with his reaction to the virginity issue, it choked her to think that she'd never told him the truth about what she'd really thought of him. As she looked into his eyes, Roman begged for her to say something. She ran her hands through her hair and groaned. Zara slumped down the wall and sat.

"I never knew that bothered you," she whispered.

Roman sat up, sitting across from her. "It broke me, Zara. I couldn't understand why you rejected me and then gave yourself to somebody else. Not just somebody else, but a person that didn't even stay with you. I was always there for you, as I am right now."

"He couldn't hurt me."

Roman's eyebrows furrowed and he grimaced. All he got was four words – he couldn't hurt me. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "What does that mean?"

"It means what I said. He couldn't hurt me." Zara winced, knowing that she'd finally told him the truth.  But she knew it would take a moment for him to get the full impact.  Nerves crept through her skin like tiny ants crawling through the mound. Oh, God.

"But he did hurt you. Garret walked out on you and told the whole school about what happened."

"That didn't hurt me. None of them could."

Roman paused a moment wracking his brain trying to figure out what she was saying.  Zara might as well have written those words in code. He scratched his head then looked at her all perplexed. Then it became so clear that his head throbbed. Roman stood up, pacing the floor. "Jesus - I could hurt you. Wow." He looked at her shaking his head. "I'd throw myself in front of a train before hurting you."

Puzzle pieces snapped together, and for once in his life the reason that she rejected him was clear. The weight of the revelation made his knees weak. He sank to the floor beside Zara. The air charged around them with indescribable tension. This is huge. So it didn't matter how many times that he told her how beautiful that she was, or called her treasure. Though he'd meant every word of it, her walls could not be breached. "You feared that I might reject your body or sexuality and weren't willing to risk that."

Zara nodded.

"Whew."  He stood up clutching his head.  His hands dragged down the side of his face and covered near his mouth. "I hate your damn mother. Oh God, I hate her. You have no idea how bad I've wanted you. When I look at my future I see you in it. I need you to trust me with that fear. I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'm tired, Roe." Zara stood and walked down the hall towards her room, hearing his footsteps behind - she turned. "You're going the wrong direction."

"Am I?" he said. Just let me in, babe – please.

An eternity seemed to stretch between them as they stood in the hallway.  Their eyes locked. He could see the wheels turning in her mind, the struggle on her face. He'd pushed enough. This moment was hers. The tension felt as thick as the heavy snowflakes drifting down on the city.  Relief washed over Roman when Zara stretched out her hand and led him to her room.

My beloved readers:

When I wrote this chapter I was thinking about how innocent love be, especially when you're young. It's a special time to learn about trusting and caring for one another. And I hate how Zara's mother messed that up for her. Roman would have given Zara his soul. There is nothing like being loved like that.