Page 31 of A Christmas For Holly

“No one can take away your successes, Holly,” I said. “Apart from yourself.”

His expression alternated between anger and disbelief. I thought he might snap back for a moment, but then he huffed a laugh, his shoulders sagging even further.

“You sound like my therapist,” he muttered, the words slipping out before he realized what he was saying. His eyes widened, and he was clearly horrified, as though he’d revealed something far too personal.

I tilted my head, keeping my voice gentle. “Maybe your therapist has a point.”

Holly didn’t respond, just stared into his coffee, his jaw tight, his breathing a little heavier than before. Whatever storm he was wrestling with wasn’t over. But he wasn’t ready to share it, not yet. I leaned back, giving him space, but the tension in the air didn’t ease. It sat there, heavy and unspoken, between us.

“And?” I repeated my earlier prompt, leaning forward to catch his eye.

He flinched, his jaw working as if he were trying to figure out where to start. Finally, he swallowed hard and spoke, his voice rough and low. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

I didn’t say anything, letting him work through it. He needed this moment. He needed to say it on his own.

“I’m sorry for what I did at the wedding,” he continued, his voice cracking. “For the drinking, which was out of control, for everything I said back then. For what I did to you without your consent. For threatening you. It was all on me, and I’m sorry.”

His hold on the mug tightened, his breathing was uneven and shallow, and he wouldn’t look at me, his gaze fixed on the table.

The regret on his face was so raw it was almost painful to witness. He wasn’t deflecting or justifying. He owned it, piece by piece, and it was clear how much it cost him. The affection and attraction I held inside me was nudging aside the bad memories. Was this how falling for someone worked? Did it mean I could ignore the bad and focus on the good?

Why was my brain doing this to me?

“You made that kiss into something awful,” I said, breaking the silence.

“I know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I did, and I hate myself for it. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make it right, but I don’t even know where to start. I was drunk, and everything inside me just… boiled over.”

His eyes, the color of melted chocolate, were glassy with emotion, the weight of his regret written all over his face. He was lost, a man who didn’t know how to stop punishing himself.

“And the kiss?”

“Was all me, and I’m sorry.”

“You regret the kiss?”

He blinked at me. “I regret how I made you feel.”

If he really knew how that kiss had made me feel, he’d be running by now. That kiss and the way he’d pressed me to the counter had provided fuel for my fantasies ever since. The rest of it, the threat, the leaving, the never contacting me after, was all secondary to the kiss.

“You look like you haven’t slept in days,” I said, not unkindly.

“I haven’t. Not properly.”

The admission hit harder than I expected, and something in me softened even more.

Connor returned, coffee pot in hand, shifting as he stopped by our table. “Would you like a top-up, Mr. Hollister?” he asked, his voice breaking on the name.

I glanced at Holly, expecting him to brush the kid off again. Instead, he surprised me by glancing up and offering a smile. It wasn’t big or over-the-top, just enough to pass for polite, sufficient to fool someone who didn’t know him well. But I could see through it. It didn’t reach his eyes or carry the warmth it should. It was a smile meant for the public, a mask he wore well, but beneath it, he was still tired, still worn down.

“Sorry, I’m useless before coffee,” Holly said smoothly. He gestured toward Connor. “So, you play defense?”

Connor brightened, the nervous energy around him shifting into something more confident. “Yeah, for the Diamonds. The senior team. It’s… it’s amazing, honestly. Coach Kai says I’ve got potential, maybe even for a career if I work hard enough.”

Holly’s brow lifted, the faintest hint of interest sparking in his eyes. “Kai said that, huh? He knows what he’s talking about.”

Connor nodded enthusiastically. “Not professional playing level or anything,” he admitted, a little sheepish. “I wouldn’t want that. But I’ve been looking at colleges, thinking about studying sports science and maybe going into coaching one day. It’s something where I can stay close to the game, and maybe I could even work here for Coach with a whole new team of Diamonds.”

Holly listened,reallylistened, leaning forward as Connor talked. He asked the right questions—what schools Connor was considering, what drew him to sports science, and whether he’d considered how he would balance academics with hockey. There was something steady in how Holly handled the conversation, aglimmer of the man he probably used to be, the leader he must have been on the ice.

---