Page 53 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas

“I’m not, really. One of my sisters is into it. I think I picked some up secondhand from her.”

“One mudlark, one astrologer? Your family sounds lovely.”

“They are, truly. You didn’t answer my question, though.”

My smile fades. “Would you believe it if I said Christmas Day?”

Jake sits up. “Actually, yes. I would. It would explain a lot.”

“About why I don’t like Christmas, you mean?” I turn to face him. “That’s a common misconception. Not all Christmas babies hate Christmas because they have to share their birthday.”

“Are you saying your Scroogery has nothing to do with it?”

“Well, maybe, when I was little. As I got older, though? I don’t mind so much. Having my birthday and Christmas on the same day means there’s just one day for my family to disappoint me instead of two separate ones.”

“Jesus, Evie.” Jake pulls me close, and we rock for a while.

“So when’s your birthday?” I ask.

“I’m a summer baby, actually. July first.”

I nod like I understand the significance of being born on 1 July, but I break down in giggles. “I’m sorry, I know absolutely nothing about astrology.”

Jake laughs with me. “I think Capricorn and Cancer are quite compatible signs.” After a beat, he says, “Maybe we can ask my sister.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” I nod. “Right after your other sister takes me mudlarking.”

Jake is quiet for a while. What he says next knocks the wind right out of me. “Spend Christmas in the Cotswolds with me and my family. I’m due to be there on the twenty-third. That’s in three days.”

When I first arrived in London and learned Maddie wouldn’t be coming, my biggest concern was how I could possibly fill an entire month alone in a city I knew nothing about. Christmas itself seemed an eternity away. As I’ve spent more time with Jake and Christmas has crept closer, I’ve assumed he’d either leave to spend the holiday with family, or he’d spend it here in London with me. He’s mentioned how close he is to his family, so the latter seemed much less likely.

I never imagined a third possibility, where I might go with him.

Every time I try to pull back on the reins of whatever is happening here, Jake says or does something that makes me want to gallop towards it that much faster. Being with him like this feels a bit more right every day, but I have to remind myself that feelings don’t manifest reality. The more meaningful our connection becomes, the harder it is to ignore the actual reality that I’m leaving in nine days. Jake going to spend Christmas outside London could be a tidy, natural conclusion to whatever we’ve started here—he’d have his family close, and I could walk away from this on a high, taking home a beautiful mosaic of memories of a man who never let me down. Permanently perfect.

I’m a coward, I guess? Am I so afraid of losing this, I’m not even going to try having it?

“I need a beat, Jake. Can I have a day to think about it?”

He raises my hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to the center of my palm. “Of course. You know how to find me. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

* * *

Four days to Christmas

I spend the next day alone, wandering a few of the places Jake has taken me. I get a sausage roll in Borough Market, and I pick up a copy of Burgess Selby’s new release at the bookstore on Cecil Court. They’re selling tarot decks by the till, so I pick up one of those, too, even though I have no idea how to do a reading. I spend an hour or so at Grey Earl’s to give Cherry and Quinn the enamel pins I bought for them at Southbank Market, and they immediately pin them to their aprons above their nametags. I linger for a while, sitting at Jake’s table in the window, reading I Capture the Castle.

I’m painfully aware of the fact that I’m the one who asked him for this space today, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope to see him come through the door every time I heard the tiny bell ring.

Quinn approaches me at the table at the end of their shift. They take the seat across from me. “What is it, love?”

“Jake asked me to come spend Christmas with him and his family in the Cotswolds.”

Quinn leans back in the chair. “That monster.”

“Ha, ha,” I say. “This is going to ruin me when I have to leave.”

“Listen. Because it might hurt in the future is a poor excuse to not do a thing. There’s always going to be something that hurts you. Might as well go for the happiness while it’s there for the taking.” Quinn squeezes my hand across the table. “My partner is French, did you know that? We throw a little festive do for expats, so they don’t have to be alone on Christmas Day. You’re welcome to come if you decide not to go with Jake, OK?”