Claire walked to the edge of the roof and leaned against the railing, her breath visible in small puffs of white.I joined her, unsure how to start this conversation or even what I wanted to say.
“So,” she began softly, looking at me with those perceptive eyes of hers.“What’s on your mind?”
I swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words.The truth was, I didn’t know what I was doing up here; all I knew was that I needed her presence to anchor me somehow.
"Here," I said, pointing to the edge of the roof."You can still see the tree."
"What?"Claire furrowed her brow, following the direction of my finger.
We moved closer, and her eyes widened."We can see the tree!"she exclaimed."I… I can't believe I didn't notice."
She leaned forward, gripping the railing.The dim lights from the Christmas tree sparkled below us, casting a warm glow against the dark night.I could only imagine what it looked like when it was truly lit up.
I watched her, both amused and slightly bewildered.She had this way of making everything seem new and exciting.Like a kid discovering something for the first time.And it was infectious—I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
"You're in for a treat," she said, turning to me with a bright smile."You've never seen this, have you?"
"I've never been here before," I admitted.The cold air bit at my skin, my breath visible in small clouds.But standing here with Claire made it all feel… different.
We stood there for a moment, just taking it all in—the lights, the silence of the night, and each other's presence.It was a rare kind of peace, one I hadn't felt in years.
Claire's eyes sparkled with a mix of joy and nostalgia as she gazed at the tree below."This was my mom's favorite spot," she said softly, almost to herself."She always said it gave her perspective."
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just stood there beside her, sharing the moment in silence.
The lights twinkled like distant stars, and for once, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I could find some semblance of peace here too.
And for that brief moment on the roof with Claire, I let myself believe it was possible.
The cold had a way of creeping in, finding the gaps where warmth should be.As I stood there with her, I noticed her shoulders trembling slightly.Her breath puffed out in small clouds, her hands rubbing her arms in a futile attempt to ward off the chill.
I realized then that I had hurried her out of the lobby without giving her a chance to grab a jacket.The thought gnawed at me, a sudden pang of guilt.
Without a word, I shrugged off my coat and draped it over her shoulders.The fabric enveloped her, almost comically oversized.It was then I realized just how petite she really was.
She looked up at me, surprise widening her eyes."Oh, no, it's okay?—"
"You're shivering," I said simply.
She paused, then buried herself deeper into the coat."And you?"
"I'm used to it."I shrugged, dismissing the cold as best as I could.
She studied me for a moment, her eyes searching mine."Just because you're used to something doesn't mean it has to stay that way," she said softly.
We shared a look then—a silent understanding passing between us.For a brief moment, it felt like all the walls I'd built around myself were made of glass, fragile and see-through.
At that moment, a low cheer drifted up from the square below.
Claire turned quickly, eyes wide with excitement."Oh, it's going to start," she said, her voice tinged with a childlike wonder that made me almost forget the cold.She reached out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me closer to the edge of the roof.
Her touch was light but firm, a gentle pressure that surprised me.I didn’t like being touched—too many memories, too much pain associated with physical contact—but there was something about Claire's touch that didn’t make me flinch away.It was warm and reassuring, grounding me in a way I hadn’t felt in years.
I found myself liking it.
Her fingers wrapped around my wrist were small and delicate, yet there was strength in them.It was as if she could anchor me to this moment, keeping the ghosts of my past at bay.Her touch spoke volumes without words—offering comfort, connection, and a sense of belonging that I had long forgotten existed.
We moved closer to the edge, her hand still holding onto me as if afraid I might slip away.The anticipation in the air was palpable; the crowd below seemed to hold its collective breath as they waited for the tree to light up.
