"Winter solstice, no longer my favorite moment of the year", I thought to myself as he clutched the wheel with both hands. My palms felt cold and brittle underneath the weak December air, but it was nothing compared to the ice crystals lodged in my lungs.

"Can you call my Dad? I'm not sure where we are."

I blinked, still mentally frozen to the snow drops falling underneath our rickety tires. I wasn't ready to go home yet, because I knew once I got there, I'd never leave again.

"Anna, pick up your phone. Please."

I trembled from the sharp edge in his voice, gripping the seat to stabilize myself.

My phone slipped through my now-sweaty fingers and onto my lap.

"Phone Anna!" He screamed, as he dug his nails deeper into the wheel; anxiety streaming loud across his face.

I took deep breaths to calm the tension in the truck, but still his knuckles remained stark-white until he pulled up beside my house.

I pulled the door open, looking at him for a kiss of some sort but he remained closed-off.

"Thanks for the night, Dave. See you tomorrow?" I asked but received no answer, just a slow smile.

Neither of us moved. "Call me when you get home, you'll be okay," I assured before stepping out into the snow.

The wind sliced loose strand of dark hair across my cheekbones, cutting my skin with frigid air.

Ten-o'clock came and still no call from him. I told myself lies to enable a restful sleep; he'd love me in a month from now.

But what happens when a month never comes?