The Fateful Ski Trail
The wheels of the commuter train clattered cheerfully along the tracks. Towering fir trees lined the railway, their branches brushing against the low winter sun. A noisy group of med students chatted excitedly, their skis propped near the carriage door.
The trip had been organised by Jack Harrison—tall, athletic, and the pride of their university, a top-ranked ski racer who never placed below second in competitions. His father held a high-ranking position in local government, and Jack basked in his small-town fame.
Just before Christmas, Jack suggested a group getaway to a remote lodge deep in the woods—a place few knew about, perfect for skiing and winter fun. Most of them agreed, though none were skiers except Jack himself. But who would turn down a trip to the countryside?
Emily had only ever stood on skis during school P.E. lessons. Still, when Jack invited her, how could she refuse? She’d do anything just to be near him.
On the train, she leaned against his shoulder, lost in bliss, oblivious to the jealous glances from Daniel Whitmore—or the way Angela kept stealing uneasy looks at her and Jack. *What does he even see in her?* Angela’s expression seemed to ask.
Emily wondered the same. So many stunning girls surrounded him, yet he’d chosen her—the quiet, bookish one. He’d even mentioned marriage after graduation. His powerful father had made him promise not to wed before finishing his degree—otherwise, no help securing a top hospital placement.
A year and a half remained. A lot could change. But Emily wasn’t thinking that far ahead. Pressed against Jack in the train, she just felt happy.
They stepped out into the crisp winter air, the lodge nestled in snow-laden trees. Frost bit their cheeks as they trudged forward, skis slung over their shoulders, giddy with youth and the promise of New Year’s Eve.
Once settled in the log cabins, Jack rallied everyone for a warm-up run.
*”We’ll start with the short loop—three miles. Take your phones, call me if anything happens. It’s safe here, no wildlife, just a smooth trail. Stay close—I’ll lead, Daniel brings up the rear.”*
Emily hesitated. She knew she’d slow them down, so she drifted to the back. Daniel fell in behind her—Jack noticed but said nothing.
Jack and the others shot ahead, vanishing into the pines. Emily lagged, her legs burning, fingers stiff with cold. The icy air scraped her throat, and behind her, Daniel’s skis whispered over the snow.
*”Go ahead!”* she called over her shoulder.
But he lingered, pacing her. She regretted coming—she should’ve stayed by the fire with a cuppa. Then—**snap**. A branch cracked nearby. Startled, Emily lost balance and crashed down. A sharp **pop** in her leg, blinding pain—she screamed.
*”What happened?”* Daniel knelt beside her.
*”My leg—”* she gasped through gritted teeth.
He examined her shin carefully. She flinched, a cry wrenching free.
*”Broken. No signal.”* He swore under his breath. *”Jack’s fast—if he loops back, he’ll find us soon.”*
*”He said just one lap…”* she whimpered.
*”He’ll do two. We’re halfway—hang in there.”*
She sat trembling, tears freezing on her cheeks.
*”I’ll try farther up—might get signal. Won’t leave you.”*
A short distance away, he shouted—*”Got it!”*—and called for help.
*”Jack’s coming,”* he reassured her, draping his coat over her shoulders. His lips were turning blue, but he stayed, jumping to keep warm. An eternity later, Jack skied into view.
*”What happened?”* he asked briskly, towing a makeshift sled.
Emily was shaking too hard to speak.
*”We’ll get you on this,”* Jack said, as if instructing a child. *”Snowmobile’s out—we’ll pull you back.”*
Every movement made her shriek until Jack snapped, *”Stop fighting or you’ll freeze!”*
Daniel stayed silent—Jack knew best. They bundled her onto the sled, Daniel covering her with his coat before Jack hauled her effortlessly behind him. Daniel trailed, numb with cold.
Back at the lodge, someone rubbed Daniel’s frostbitten cheeks with a wool sock, shoved tea into his hands. Emily lay on a sofa, leg bandaged, pain dulled by meds.
The ambulance arrived hours later. Jack didn’t join them—*”Can’t leave the others.”* Emily cried the whole way, drifting into sedation.
The break was clean, no surgery needed. Daniel, face raw from frostbite, visited daily with oranges and books.
*”Why did I even go? Ruined New Year’s,”* she groaned.
*”We’ll sit it out together,”* he joked weakly.
Jack called once. Visited for five minutes on Tuesday. *”He got me back, didn’t abandon the others,”* Emily defended, though Daniel’s silence spoke volumes.
Then her mate Sarah dropped the bomb—Jack and Angela had hooked up at the lodge. *New Year’s at his country house*, Angela bragged.
Emily sobbed into her pillow.
Daniel took her home by taxi, arranged study extensions, ferried her to exams. At midnight on New Year’s, she wished for *”the man I love to stay.”*
The universe had its own answer.
By summer, she married Daniel—knowing she didn’t love him, but he hoped time would change that. They moved to his hometown after graduation, had a son. Five years later, on a training course back at uni, they ran into Jack—now a climbing nepotism case, ignoring old friends.
*”You’re not jealous, are you?”* Emily teased, seeing Daniel’s frown.
*”You married me for revenge.”*
*”Silly. I love you. And… our son’s getting a sister.”*
She’d learned—flashy love burns out. The steady kind stays.
So make your wishes. Sometimes, they’re answered better than you dreamed.
