Turning quickly back into the room she pulled the curtain shut behind her. "It's really snowing out there," she said, "looks worse than predicted. Do you think they'll still make it?"
"I'm not sure," he said, clearing his throat nervously. "The roads were bad when I was on my way and that was two hours ago."
"What do we do if they aren't able to get here? It's not like we can leave either."
"Well," he said, cautiously, "we can start by eating whatever it is you made that smells so wonderful and then, I don't know, play cards?"
This couple's weekend they had planned at the cabin looked as though it would be a flop. She had driven up in the afternoon before the storm, her husband was to come later, when his big meeting at work was over. He had driven up as the storm had started, his wife was to come later when she had finished her presentation. Both had pleaded with their spouses to come earlier, especially when news of the storm developed, but both spouses poo-poo'd their attempts and promised to join, no matter the weather. Now it was just him and it was just her and they were alone in a cabin, in the woods, in a blizzard.
It wouldn't be that bad, they were very good friends. This particular pair were closer than any other duo in their two couples. But this is also where the problems lie, for secretly, over the course of all the time they'd spent together as couples, something more than friendship had developed. Something more than attraction. Something more than sexual chemistry. This couple had secretly fallen in love. They both knew it, though neither would admit it to the other. Both felt they'd thrown in their lot with their spouses and that was how life would proceed, so they ignored their feelings, tried not to see each other very often and when they did, put in as much effort as possible to hide how they truly felt.
But here they were. Completely unable to avoid each other. "I'll start a fire," he said, trying not to make eye contact with her. "I saw some firewood just outside the door."