Page 11 of A Christmas For Holly

“Okay then.”

She knew I’d get her whatever she wanted.

Take that, Callum, Duncan, and Bailey! I was the best uncle ever.

Chapter 5

Holly

There wasanother email from Kai waiting in my inbox, one of at least a hundred he’d sent that I hadn’t replied to. Chatty, warm, persistent—just like him. This time, he was inviting me—again—to spend Christmas with him and Bailey in Wishing Tree.

“You’re sure this is what you want to do?” Oscar, my agent, asked, his frown deepening as he paced the room. “I can get you interviews, get you out in front of everything, spin it the right way, make it work to get you some media sympathy, maybe even land some endorsement deals.”

“I don’t want anything to do with hockey right now,” I said.

“Hockey is your life.”

“Wasmy life.”

“But leaving everything behind?” he pushed. “You’re selling your house, firing me?—”

“I didn’t fire you, Osc,” I interrupted, keeping my tone as patient as I could manage. “It was a mutual parting. My career ended, and you know it. I tried to stay in that world, but it’s not for me anymore.”

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. He’d been one of the few solid, familiar faces during the last six months—three spent in inpatient treatment at the PhoenixRecovery Center and another three in outpatient. Now it was just me, my car, and a bank balance big enough for me to start over. I could do anything, be anyone, and yet, the idea of Christmas near Kai and Bailey lingered. It sounded good. And bad. I couldn’t bear the thought of forcing myself on them, but maybe a small town, a quiet cabin, and some space would help me figure things out.

“Did you get what I needed?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

Oscar handed me a slip of paper with an address on it. “Some guy rents out unrenovated cabins. I got you one, but fair warning—it’s rustic. There’s no hot tub, no sauna, and no amenities worth mentioning. Just birds, wild animals, and mountains. Are you sure this is what you need?”

“Exactlywhat I need,” I said, though my voice wavered slightly. “I think.”

“Well, I organized a ton of food, and you’d better eat healthy or… I don’t know… I’ll drive up and?—”

“I’m good. I’ll eat, I promise, and thank you.”

“And you packed your meds.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And you’ll let me know when you return to Albany?”

“Yep.”

“Kid?” Oscar said, tugging me to a stop before hugging me hard. He always called me that, although he was only fifteen years older than me, but I liked it. “It’s been a ride.”

“It sure has,” I said, trying not to let my voice crack.

The ride had been great at the start, but it was over. I was over. It was all done.

“Look after yourself,” Oscar murmured, then patted my back and released me.

I walked out to the car, and Oscar followed, leaning in through the open driver’s side window. “You don’t even havesnow tires on this thing,” he said, gesturing at my shiny but impractical car.

I pointed to the clear blue Albany sky. “I’m only a few hours from Wishing Tree. I’ll sort it when I get there.”

“There’s nothing I can say to change your mind? Not as your agent, ex-agent, whatever, but as a friend?”

I forced a small smile, my chest tightening. “Have a good Christmas, Oscar. I’ll see you in the new year.”

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