I No Longer Want The Blessing You Brought From Snowy Mountain Chapter 10

I No Longer Want The Blessing You Brought From Snowy Mountain Chapter 10

Two weeks later, Luke was discharged. I brought him back to my apartment.

The scars were still there. Every day I changed his bandages.

He’d always say, “Dawn. Don’t look. Ugly.”

I touched the marks and shook my head.

“No. That’s my medal.”

Luke proposed.

No ring. No flowers.

He just asked one evening while I was redressing his wounds: “Dawn. Will you marry me?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

We went back to my hometown. Had a quiet ceremony. Just family and a few close friends.

Mom held Luke’s hand and sobbed. “Take care of her. Promise me.”

Luke squeezed back. “I promise, Mom.”

Afterward, we moved back to Denver. We used everything we had to open a small art studio together.

Luke taught and restored. I painted and created.

Our days were ordinary. But happy.

A year later, I got pregnant.

Luke treated me like glass. Wouldn’t let me lift a finger. Learned to cook. Learned to brew broths. Fattened me up good.

Gavin still messaged me updates about Ethan sometimes.

He’d never come down the mountain.

People had seen him at the foot—gaunt, blackened, like a monk, kneeling and bowing every day.

He really believed if he prayed hard enough, Mount Mercy would grant him one more scarf—one that could win me back.

But he didn’t know. My heart wasn’t his anymore.

The day my son was born, Denver got a freak snowstorm.

Luke held the baby, grinning so wide. “Dawn. Look. He’s got your face.”

I watched them—father and son—and felt my life was complete.

During my recovery, Mom called.

“Dawn. Ethan… he’s gone.”

I froze. “What?”

“A rescue team found him in a glacier crevasse. Frozen solid.”

Her voice cracked. “He was still gripping a scarf in his hand. Clean. Perfect.”

I held the phone for a long, long time.

Outside, the snow stopped.

Sunlight hit the white ground, blinding.

Luke came over with the baby, took my hand. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, leaned into his shoulder. “Nothing. Just… old memories.”

“It’s over now.”

He kissed my forehead.

Yeah. It’s over.

Ethan—that scarf you died for? Maybe it was as pure as you believed.

But I don’t need it anymore.

My life has a new sun now.