I Waited Every Night | Learn English Through Story Level 1 | Emotional Story

My name is Genevieve and I am 40 years old. I own the Pines, a small old lodge in the snowy mountains of Colorado. My family owned this place for three long generations. My grandmother worked here. My mother worked here. Now I work here. The Pines is beautiful, but it is hard to keep

alive. It has dark wood walls, wide windows, and a big stone fireplace in the front room. Guests love it when snow covers the roof. They love the smell of pine smoke. They love the warm bread in the morning. They love the quiet, but quiet has a weight. I know that weight well. Every day starts before the sun. I

wake up when the rooms are still dark. I put on thick socks, old jeans, and my red coat. I go outside and carry wood from the shed. The snow bites my fingers through my gloves. My boots break the ice on the path. Then I start the kitchen fire. I make coffee, eggs, biscuits, and soup for later. I clean

rooms. I fold sheets. I fix broken lamps. I answer phones. I welcome guests with a smile, even when my back hurts. I carry bags up the stairs. I sweep snow from the porch. I chop more wood before night comes. My hands are rough. My nails are short. My coat smells like smoke. My hair often smells like snow

and bacon grease. Sometimes I look in the mirror and do not know the tired woman there. She looks older than 40. She looks like someone who forgot how to rest. My husband Alden never liked the mountain work. Alden is 43. He wears smooth coats and polished shoes. He likes glass offices, hotel bars, and

soft chairs. He says he works as an investment consultant in Denver. He says he meets rich people. He says he wants to turn the pines into a famous business. We can make millions, Jen. He tells me one lodge is too small. We need many lodges. We need money people. So Alden spends 5 days each week in Denver.