The early morning sun filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Jack was already awake, as he always was, before Elsa. He cherished these quiet moments, the stillness before the world intruded. He could watch her sleep, her platinum blonde hair spread out like a halo, her peaceful face a reminder of everything he'd fought for.
But today, something felt different. The air was thick with an unspoken weight, a tension Jack couldn't place, though it tugged at his gut in a way he couldn't ignore. Elsa had been off, distant in a way that unsettled him. There was an emotion behind her eyes she refused to name, something he could feel but couldn't understand.
He watched her for a moment longer, his gaze tracing her features. Maybe he could break through the barrier between them, lighten the mood with one of his jokes. If he could make her laugh, maybe he could push the tension away.
With a mischievous grin, he slid closer to her, gently blowing into her ear, knowing it would get the reaction he was hoping for. It was a harmless prank, something they had done a hundred times before.
Elsa stirred, blinking awake with a confused frown. She turned to him, half-amused, half-annoyed. "Really, Jack?" she mumbled, burying her face in her pillow. "You had to wake me up like that?"
Jack chuckled, running his fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face. "I thought it was a good wake-up call, Snowflake," he teased softly.
She groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. "Well, now I'm awake," she muttered, her voice heavy with exhaustion. "Happy?"
Jack's grin faltered slightly. There was a weight to her words that felt off. "What's going on?" he asked, sitting up straighter, his teasing tone replaced with concern.
Elsa didn't answer immediately. She nervously traced the blanket with her fingers, avoiding his gaze. Jack waited, sensing that something was wrong. She was struggling, trying to find the right words.
"I…I need to tell you something," she said finally, her voice softer, uncertain.
Jack's stomach dropped. He could hear the change in her tone, the hesitation. "What is it, Elsa?" His heart quickened. "What's wrong?"
Elsa hesitated again, her fingers stilling as she glanced down at their hands. Jack reached for her, gently brushing his thumb over her knuckles, a silent plea for her to continue. "Jack, I've been thinking about us...about everything."
Jack's heart clenched. "What about us?" he asked, his voice steady, but his mind racing.
Elsa closed her eyes, a vulnerable expression crossing her face as she gathered her thoughts. "I don't know how to say this, but…I think I need to leave."
Jack froze, the words crashing into him like a tidal wave. "What?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Leave? Elsa, what are you talking about?"
She took a shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut as though the words hurt to say. "I can't stay with you. Not like this." Her voice cracked with the weight of her confession, the finality of it hanging in the air.
Jack's confusion deepened. "But why? What happened?"
Elsa opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. She swallowed hard, as if the truth she was about to share was choking her. "I saw it, Jack…those lives we lived before. The ones you didn't tell me about. And I realized it's always been because of me that you couldn't move on, that you couldn't have a chance. I'm also the reason you died in all those past lives."
Jack's breath caught in his throat, his grip on her hand loosening as he tried to process her words. "What?" He stared at her in disbelief, the shock making it hard to breathe.
Elsa closed her eyes again, unable to look at him. "I saw them, Jack. The past lives we've shared…I can't live with knowing that every time I have you, you die. I can't, have you go through that again."
Jack's chest tightened, the weight of her confession bearing down on him. She knew. She understood the depth of their shared history now, and it crushed him. "You think it's your fault? That I died because of you?" he asked, his voice low, strained.
Elsa nodded, her face pale, her voice barely audible. "Yes. I thought if I left…maybe I could stop it. Maybe I could protect you."
Jack stared at her, speechless, as the realization hit him like a blow. She had been carrying this guilt, this burden all along, believing she was the one responsible for his death in their past lives. The weight of it crushed him more than he expected.
"I didn't know you were carrying all this," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. "You can't keep running from the past, Elsa. You can't just leave because you're afraid of what might happen."
Elsa looked up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I don't know how to stop it, Jack. I don't know how to make sure we're not doomed to repeat it."
Jack stood up, the anger and frustration rising in him. But it wasn't the kind of anger he was used to. This was something deeper. Helplessness. "You don't need to protect me, Elsa. You don't need to save me by leaving."
Elsa's lips trembled as she tried to speak, but Jack raised a hand to stop her. "No, you listen to me," he said firmly. "I don't care what happened in the past. I don't care about those memories you saw. This is our life now, and I'm not letting you walk away."
The silence that followed was thick, oppressive. Elsa didn't respond, and Jack's heart twisted in his chest, the weight of her silence heavier than any words. It felt like everything was slipping away from him, like he was losing her piece by piece, and nothing he said or did could stop it.
"Please, don't leave," he whispered, his voice breaking with a mixture of desperation and exhaustion.
"I'm sorry, Jack," she whispered, softly.
Jack's heart shattered. He surged forward, unable to let her go. His hands cupped her face, trembling as tears streamed down his cheeks. "Elsa, please. Don't do this," he begged, his voice raw and broken.
She tried to look away, but Jack wouldn't let her. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, his desperation seeping into every touch. "You can't leave me," he whispered, falling to his knees before her, clutching her hands. "You're my everything, Elsa. I'll fight fate itself for you. Just...stay."
He pressed his forehead to her stomach, his tears soaking through her clothes as he kissed her trembling hands. "Please, Snowflake. I can't lose you."
Elsa crumbled, her hands threading through his hair as sobs wracked her body. "Jack," she whispered, her voice breaking.
Jack pulled back, meeting her tear-filled gaze. "If you're scared, we'll be scared together," he said, his voice steady despite the tears. "But don't leave me. Not now. Not ever."
Her resolve wavered, and as he kissed her trembling lips, she melted into his embrace, both of them drowning in the weight of their love and pain.
Elsa's eyes glistened as the tears finally slipped down her cheeks, but she didn't reach for him. "I'm sorry, Jack," she whispered, her voice soft but resolute, meaning she had already made up her mind. She couldn't stay. The words hung in the air, final and heavy.
Jack ran his hand down his face, and for the first time, he let go of the fight. His shoulders slumped, a deep sigh escaping his chest. He really gave up, the weight of everything crashing down on him. "If that's what you want," he said, his voice empty of all the usual humor and warmth.
Elsa quickly wiped away her tears, trying to hide them. "Thanks for understanding," she said softly, though the words felt cold and distant.
Jack chuckled bitterly, the sound dark and humorless. "Ah, no worries. That's who I am. Always the damn giver."
Elsa lowered her head into her hands, her sobs quietly breaking through her attempts at composure. "I'll leave after Anna's wedding. And you don't have to come if you don't want to."
Jack's eyes flared with a mix of disbelief and frustration. He shook his head, unable to hide the sharp edge in his voice. "Are you kidding me? We're here in Iceland because of the wedding, to show your family you're happy. So yeah, I'll go with you. I'll act like everything's fine, like we're all happy and in love. And then, when it's over, I'll go back to Norway. You can go back to Berk." He forced a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes, his tone laced with bitterness. "Sound good?"
Elsa nodded, her face crumpling as she tried to hold herself together. She knew this wasn't right, knew this was the beginning of the end, but she couldn't bring herself to stop it. It felt like the only way out.
After a tense silence filled the room, Jack sighed, standing up and running a hand through his hair. Elsa remained still, her eyes red from crying, and though there was a heaviness between them, they both knew what needed to be done. Despite everything, they had a plan to stick to, and they couldn't avoid it any longer.
"Come on," Jack finally said, his voice flat, "We need to get those outfits. The wedding won't wait."
Elsa didn't respond right away. She could feel the coldness in his words, the distance between them widening even more. Still, she nodded and stood up, wiping the remnants of tears from her face. She didn't want to fight anymore, didn't want to push him further.
Jack sat in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the wheel with a tightness that betrayed the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior. He couldn't stop the nagging feeling of wanting to reach out to Elsa, to hold her, to make things right between them. But he couldn't, he wouldn't. It would only make it harder when the time came for her to leave. So, instead, he kept his focus on the road, his jaw clenched, his heart heavy. It was easier this way, he told himself. But every glance at Elsa in the passenger seat, her face pale from the tears she'd wiped away earlier, made his resolve falter.
'I still love you,' he thought, the words a silent prayer he couldn't say aloud. He wanted to pull her close, to erase the distance that had grown between them, but he couldn't let himself do it, not now. Not when she had made her decision. And yet, even as his mind told him to stay cold, his heart pulled him in the opposite direction. The silence in the car was deafening, and Jack tried to push down the overwhelming urge to reach for her hand. He needed to stay strong, for both their sakes.
The drive to the store was quiet, the car's engine humming softly beneath the silence between them. Jack's eyes were focused on the road ahead, while Elsa stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts. The landscape of Iceland stretched around them, vast and beautiful, but it only served to remind Elsa of how isolated she felt from everything...Jack, her family, her past.
They arrived at one of the most exclusive boutiques in Iceland, a place known only to a select few. This was the place where wealth, status, and connections meant nothing unless you were personally invited. Jack was one of those few. With his reputation and resources, he had the keys to this world. And now, he was bringing Elsa into it, even though everything felt broken between them.
Inside the store, the air was thick with luxury. Pristine white walls, crystal chandeliers, and the soft hum of classical music filled the space. Everything in sight was impossibly beautiful, but it felt so out of reach, so distant from the world Elsa had ever known.
Jack approached the counter, where a well-dressed woman greeted him with a smile that quickly turned into a respectful nod once she saw who it was. "Mr. Overland, welcome. We've been expecting you."
Elsa hesitated, her discomfort palpable, but Jack didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't care. He was already walking toward the racks of hand-picked garments, each one more stunning than the last.
"You're getting one of the best dresses, Elsa," Jack said, his tone almost mechanical, as if he had already made all the decisions for both of them. "We don't have time to waste, so let's get it over with."
Elsa blinked, a hollow feeling creeping into her chest. She couldn't bring herself to argue. She had already resigned herself to the fact that this was the way things had to be. But every step she took in this shop felt like a reminder of how far apart they were, how much of their lives were dictated by things they couldn't control.
As the saleswoman began fitting Elsa with a beautiful gown, Jack stepped back and watched. He didn't say much, just observed. His gaze stayed fixed on her, but there was a tension in his posture. Elsa could feel it, that ache in his eyes, but he wouldn't allow himself to reach out, wouldn't allow himself to feel the familiar pull toward her that had always been so effortless. Instead, he stood still, his jaw clenched, trying to convince himself that he could let go.
Elsa stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself. The dress was stunning, a beautiful shade of emerald that contrasted sharply against her pale skin. It was perfect, exactly the kind of gown that would impress her family, and she knew that was the point. But it didn't feel like her. She felt like she was trapped in someone else's life.
Jack moved closer, his steps measured, controlled. His gaze flicked to Elsa, and for a moment, their eyes locked. His breath caught in his chest at the sight of her, breathtaking and fragile, standing there like a figure out of a dream. He quickly looked away, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. He wasn't supposed to care. He had to stop caring.
"It's perfect," he said, his voice hollow, as if the words had been forced out. "It's everything you need."
Elsa couldn't read him anymore. He had shut down, and it was as though she were looking at a stranger, someone who had once been her partner, but now seemed so distant, so unreachable. She could feel the weight of that distance between them, even as he stood right there, inches away. All, which she has caused.
Jack paused, his gaze shifting over to the men's side of the store. He turned, needing a distraction, needing something, anything, to break the tension that had settled over them like a thick fog. He walked toward the racks, selecting a sharp suit. It was tailored, the kind of suit that commanded attention, the kind of suit that would make him look like the man everyone admired. The man Elsa loves.
As he stepped into the fitting room, Elsa couldn't help but follow him with her eyes. There was a small group of women nearby, and she could hear their soft laughter, their murmurs of admiration. Elsa didn't need to see their looks to know exactly what they were thinking. They were drawn to him, just as they always were.
And yet, it stung. A dull, aching pain she hadn't expected. Seeing him like this, distant, distant enough for these women to notice him, made her feel invisible. She quickly turned her gaze back to the mirror, but the image of Jack, surrounded by his admirers, wouldn't leave her mind.
When Jack emerged from the fitting room, the suit fit him perfectly, and for a moment, Elsa was unable to breathe. He was every inch the man he had always been, impossibly handsome, effortlessly commanding. He walked toward her, and as he did, she felt the familiar heat of his gaze on her. For a split second, their eyes met, and she saw something in his eyes, a flicker of the man who loves her with such raw intensity. But the flicker disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and he turned his attention to the counter.
He paid for both their outfits, his expression stoic, but Elsa could see the tightness in his jaw, the way his fingers lingered on the credit card, as if he were clinging to something he didn't want to let go of.
Once the transaction was complete, Jack turned to Elsa and gestured toward the fitting rooms, where they would change back into their original clothes. Elsa nodded silently, not trusting herself to speak. She hadn't expected to feel so lost in this whole situation. The dress had been perfect for what it was, a showpiece to present to her family, but wearing it only highlighted how out of place she felt.
They both returned to the fitting rooms, changing in silence. Elsa carefully slipped back into her own clothes, the ones she had arrived in, the ones that didn't feel as foreign as the gown. It was almost a relief to be back in something familiar, even if she was still aching from the distance between her and Jack. He had already changed by the time she stepped out, his usual attire back in place, casual, simple, yet undeniably polished. Jack gathered their outfit bags without a word, the handles firm in his hand as he moved toward the door, leading the way.
Outside, the cold air hit them like a shock. Elsa shivered, not from the chill of the Icelandic wind, but from the weight of Jack's presence, his absence, his conflicting emotions. They both felt it, the lingering tension, the unsaid things that still hung between them, refusing to go away.
In the car, the silence pressed down on them, heavy and suffocating. Jack's hands tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles white, as if it took every ounce of control to keep himself from reaching out to her. He kept glancing at Elsa, his gaze lingering on her face. She looked perfect, just as she always did, and always will.
The bags containing their outfits sat between them in the backseat, reminders of a moment they couldn't undo, of lives they couldn't control.
'Don't look at her,' he told himself, but his eyes betrayed him, flickering back to her over and over again. The love he felt for her, the aching need to reach out, was so palpable, so raw, it almost choked him. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.
Every time he looked at her, it was like he was being pulled under, drowning in the ocean of everything they had been. He knew he couldn't keep this up forever. He couldn't keep pretending that it didn't hurt, that his feelings for her didn't ache every second. But he had to. It was easier to shut it all down, to bury it beneath the layers of distance and coldness he had built around himself.
Elsa stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts, her own pain, her own confusion. But Jack knew that no matter how much time passed, no matter how much distance they tried to put between themselves, there would always be this ache, this connection that neither of them could deny.
Jack's hand gripped the steering wheel, his posture rigid. He was trying his best not to love her, but every glance at her, every breath he took in the same space as her, made it harder to pretend that he didn't. He wasn't ready to let her go, and yet, he couldn't make her stay.
Their lives, now tangled in this charade, seemed to be slipping further apart. Jack wasn't sure if he could hold on any longer, or if he should even try. But he knew one thing for certain: letting go of her was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.
When they arrived at the cottage, the air between them was as cold as the Icelandic night. Jack carried their garment bags into the house, placing them by the staircase before turning to Elsa.
"I'll take the couch," he said softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his chest. "You should get some rest."
Elsa nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She watched him retreat to the living room, his shoulders tense with the weight of everything unsaid. She wanted to call him back, to tell him why she was leaving, but the words refused to come. Instead, she climbed the stairs to the bedroom, each step feeling heavier than the last.
In the bedroom, Elsa changed into her nightclothes, the silence of the house amplifying the storm inside her. She climbed into bed, but sleep refused to come. Her mind was filled with memories of Jack, his smile, his laughter, the way he'd looked at her as if she were his entire world. She loved him too much, and that was the problem.
Downstairs, Jack sat on the couch, staring at the darkened fireplace. His chest ached with the effort of holding back. He wanted to go to her, to remind her that he would do anything to keep her safe and happy. But every time he tried to reach her, he felt her pulling away, as if she were already halfway out the door.
He couldn't lose her again, not after everything they'd been through. But he also couldn't force her to stay. Jack leaned back, closing his eyes, trying to summon the strength to let her go if that's what she needed.
The night passed slowly, each of them lying awake in their separate spaces, consumed by the same thoughts. They loved each other desperately, but their love was shadowed by fear, fear of loss, fear of pain, and the fear that staying together might hurt more than walking away.
Neither of them knew how to bridge the distance between them, but one thing was clear, their hearts were still irrevocably tied, no matter how far apart they tried to be.
Honestly I'm not sure where to take the book from here. But let's see.