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LAUREN
I USUALLY LOVED CHRISTMAS morning, but there was something so anticlimactic about it this time. Probably because it was the beginning of the end.
William would be leaving today.
We’d partied into the night. After the wedding, we got to run back to the guesthouse and change before we watched Noel and Nick wave from Santa’s Sleigh. Then the reception raged on until midnight. William and I gave semi-drunk but very good speeches. I danced every dance with him, sat next to him at dinner. We laughed and talked right up until we split off and went to our own rooms. I think we were both pretending that in less than twenty-four hours he wouldn’t be leaving—and I’d be staying. But we were.
Tomorrow I’d go home and wrap up my life in Minneapolis. Then I’d come back to Little Christmas and start my new life here. And I would be lying if I said I didn’t seriously consider aborting the whole mission to move to Chicago instead.
My heart felt bruised. And all this for a man I’d never even kissed.
I didn’t care that we’d known each other only three days. It didn’t matter. I got it now, I really did. I understood what happened between Noel and Nick, how sometimes all you need is a glimpse to know. And I did know. But it wasn’t going to change anything. I still had to make choices that made sense. I had to do what was best for me, even if it wasn’t what was best for my heart.
I brushed my teeth and washed my face. I grabbed the manila envelope with William’s Christmas gift in it, came out of my room, and stood quietly in the door of the living room in my pajamas. The tree was lit and the fireplace was on. William was moving around the kitchen. I could smell coffee and bacon. Daisy jumped off the couch and came over to push her big warm face into my hands. I wanted to cry.
After I composed myself, I made my way into the kitchen and leaned in the doorway. “Hey.”
William looked up at me over a pan of eggs. “Hey.” He smiled. I was probably imagining it, but there was something a little sad about the way he did it. “How you feeling?” he asked. “Hungover at all?”
I shrugged. “Better than after I drank all that virgin eggnog.”
He chuckled, but there was no mirth in it.
“How about you?” I asked. “You feeling okay today?”
He looked at the pan instead of me. “As well as can be expected.” He turned off the burner. “I got you a Christmas gift,” he said.
“I want zero birds, William. I don’t care what kind of Twelve Days of Christmas, Black Friday deal you got on the French hens.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Not even the partridge? It’s only one.”
“Yeah, but I have to fit a whole pear tree somewhere?”
“Maybe the spirit of Christmas is the birds you gift along the way?”
I tried to smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes.
“It’s nothing big,” he said, plating eggs.
I sat at the table. “I got you a present too,” I said as he set the food in front of me. I sat there for a moment, just staring at it.
“So what’d you get me?” I asked.
“There’s a local chalkboard artist here. He does window art and menu signs. I paid him to redo your shop once you get the new menu worked out.”
My face went soft. “Thank you.”
He went to the sink to start the dishes.
“Aren’t you eating?” I asked.
“No, I’m…”
And then I saw it. His luggage was sitting by the wall.
“Are you leaving?” I said, looking at him. “Now?”
He scrubbed the pan without answering me. “It’s a long drive,” he said finally. “I have a deposition tomorrow morning.”
