Frost 2 Bloom – Chapter 1: A Gentle Push

A slow-burn romance begins with a quiet challenge—and I’d love your feedback as a beta reader.

“Maybe we don’t always bloom where we’re planted. Maybe we bloom when we’re ready.”

– a passage from Frost 2 Bloom.

(Listen here or Read Below)

Chapter 1: A Gentle Push

Jake slouched in the stiff hospital chair, one hand resting on his sister Lily’s bed rail, the other loosely holding a dog-eared copy of The Great Gatsby. The rhythmic beep of monitors filled the sterile room, blending with the faint antiseptic smell of alcohol wipes and clean linens—a sensory backdrop that had become as familiar as his own heartbeat over the past year.

Lily’s blue eyes met his, her gaze warm and insistent despite her frail appearance. She was only fifteen, but her illness had aged her. Jake could still remember when she’d been a whirlwind of energy, her laughter filling their small apartment, and her soccer trophies cluttering every available shelf. Now, she spent most of her days tethered to machines, her once-vibrant world reduced to the hospital room’s four walls.

“You’re reading that book again?” she teased, raising an eyebrow, a hint of her old mischievousness breaking through. “That’s the third time this month.”

Jake closed the book and placed it on her bedside table with a soft smile. “It’s a classic, Lil. Some things are worth reading a few times.” The real truth, of course, was that the book was an easy escape—a reason to sit with her, to fill the long hours with words instead of silence.

Lily tilted her head, giving him a knowing look. “Oorrr… you’re just using it as an excuse to stay cooped up in here with me.”

Her words struck a nerve. He forced a chuckle, but it sounded hollow, even to him. “And miss all the excitement here? Who else would keep the nurses on their toes?” He leaned forward, watching her face for a smile, but her expression had grown serious, her gaze soft but unwavering.

“Jake…” she began quietly, “you don’t have to watch over me every single minute.” Her voice held that stubborn undertone he recognized—the one she used when she was about to make a point he didn’t want to hear.

He shook his head automatically, brushing off her concern. “I’m fine, Lil. Besides, who’s going to keep you company if I leave?” The idea of leaving her side, even for a night, felt wrong, like he’d be abandoning his post.

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted, her eyes locked on his, challenging him. “You need to get out. When was the last time you did something for yourself?” She paused, and for a moment, Jake saw a flicker of worry beneath her steady gaze—worry for him. “You deserve a break—more than anyone. And maybe… you’ll meet someone.”

Jake let out a reluctant laugh, shaking his head. “So now you’re playing matchmaker?”

Lily shrugged, a playful glint in her eye. “Maybe. Or maybe I just want my big brother to have a life beyond this hospital room.” Her grip on his hand tightened, and for a moment, he felt the strength she tried to hide. “You’re young, Jake. You deserve happiness, too.”

Jake leaned back, his smile fading. Happiness. The word felt foreign, like something meant for people with simpler lives. His had become a patchwork of medical appointments, sleepless nights, and the silent dread of watching his sister’s life shrink while he tried, helplessly, to hold it together.

But Lily wasn’t finished. She shifted in the bed, her thin shoulders rising slightly against the pillows. “Listen. I’ve got something for you. There’s this New Year’s Gala downtown. Big party, fancy people, music. The works.”

Jake frowned, his brows knitting together. “How do you even know about that?”

Lily smirked, her old spunk flickering in her expression. “I have the internet, you know. And nurses who gossip like crazy. Apparently, it’s the event of the year, and guess what?” She paused, drawing out the suspense. “I got you a ticket.”

“What?” Jake blinked, taken aback. “Lily, you didn’t—”

“Oh, I did,” she interrupted triumphantly, clearly pleased with herself. “One of the nurses helped me. Her brother works with the event planners or something. It’s all set. You’ve got no excuse now.”

“Lil…” His voice was low, almost reproachful. “You didn’t have to do that. You know I don’t really—”

“Don’t even start,” she cut him off, her voice firm despite its softness. “I know you hate parties and crowds and whatever, but Jake, you need this. Even if it’s just for one night. Go. Wear something nice. Eat some good food. Dance if you feel like it. And who knows? Maybe you’ll actually have fun.”

He stared at her, unsure of how to respond. The idea of going to some glitzy gala felt so far removed from his reality that it bordered on absurd. But the look on Lily’s face, that spark of hope in her expression, made him feel a pang of guilt. She was always watching out for him, even now, even with all she was going through.

“You’re not going to drop this, are you?” he asked wryly, trying to break the tension.

She smiled, her eyes bright. “Not a chance. You’re going, Jake. Promise me.”

He studied her, feeling his own resistance begin to crack under her determined gaze. He knew how much it meant to her to see him do something for himself, even if it was just a night out. And maybe, just maybe, he owed it to her to try.

“Fine,” he said with a resigned sigh. “I’ll go. But if it’s awful, I’m blaming you!”

“Deal.” She beamed, and for a moment, he could almost see the girl she used to be, all light and laughter.

Their shared laughter broke through the usual tension, filling the room with a rare warmth. But as they quieted, Jake felt a bittersweet ache settle over him. He knew, beneath her playful exterior, Lily was worried about him as much as he worried about her. And for all his reluctance, he couldn’t deny the quiet, stubborn hope he saw in her eyes—that he might find a reason to smile outside these hospital walls.

As he leaned back in the chair, her words echoed in his mind, mingling with the quiet hum of the monitors. A New Year’s Eve Gala. A world he hadn’t been a part of in what felt like forever.

And yet, for Lily, he’d try.

---

Later that evening, Lily’s words lingered with him as he drove back to his apartment. The world outside the hospital seemed strange and unfamiliar, like stepping into a dream where everything felt almost real but not quite right. He parked outside his building and sat in silence for a moment, staring up at the windows of his modest one-bedroom. The thought of stepping inside filled him with sudden, inexplicable heaviness.

When he finally did, the emptiness of the apartment hit him like a cold draft. It was quiet—too quiet—and the faint scent of stale coffee from that morning only deepened the hollow ache. He stood by the door for a long moment before his eyes drifted to the narrow closet by the wall.

He opened it slowly, and there it was—his suit. It hung in the back, draped in plastic, wrinkled at the shoulders. He hadn’t touched it in years. It felt like a relic of another life, one he barely remembered, and the last time he’d worn it… he swallowed hard. Best not to think about that.

Pulling the suit out, he felt its weight in his hands—heavier than he’d expected, as though it carried the memories he’d tried to leave behind. He slipped it on, the fabric stiff and unforgiving, and stood before the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, unfamiliar, the tie crooked and the jacket tight across his chest. It looked wrong, like a kid playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes.

He tugged at the collar, the sharp edge of the fabric scraping his neck. It’s just a party, he told himself. One or two hours, and then you’re out of there. But the thought rang hollow, and as he met his own gaze in the mirror, he saw something deeper in his hesitation—a fear he hadn’t wanted to name.

When had he stopped living for himself?

His hand drifted into his pocket, pulling out his phone. For a moment, he hovered on Lily’s name, his thumb poised over the screen. He could text her, tell her he’d changed his mind, that the gala wasn’t worth it.

But then, unbidden, he heard her voice again. Not a gentle encouragement, but that sharp, stubborn tone she always used when she was determined to win an argument. You deserve a life, Jake.

He exhaled sharply, snapping himself back to the present. You’re doing this for her, he thought. With steady hands, he straightened his tie and smoothed the front of his jacket. The suit still didn’t feel right, but maybe that didn’t matter.

Taking a deep breath, he pocketed his phone and headed for the door. The suit didn’t feel right, and neither did the night ahead. But this wasn’t just for her—it was for him, too. A first, unsteady step toward something more, even if he didn’t know exactly what that was yet.

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