Page 27 of One Night, Two Holidays

Which means Jack could have gone home and salvaged the rest of his holiday, but instead, he stayed in this frozen tundra with me so we could get to know each other. So I wouldn’t be alone on Hanukkah.

I got a whole extra night, and I know that should be enough. It would be selfish to want more—Jack has a whole family who misses him. Plus, he’s coming back.

The thought doesn’t comfort me—the tears keep coming, and hiccupping sobs roll through me. My bed just feels so empty without him, and I know the days ahead are going to feel endlessly long. Not to mention, being lonely hurts even more now that I know how good it felt to have Jack here with me.

Two days will go by in a flash, I try to convince myself. And he’s already promised we’ll go on a real date. We’ll get dressed up and go out to dinner, and then after, we’ll come back here and stay up all night, exploring each other’s bodies, learning all the ways we can feel even more connected. Hell, maybe we’ll skip the dinner out and eat one of his frozen dinners in bed.

The thought of Jack eating Salisbury steak that isn’t even steak makes me cry even harder because I know how busy he’s going to be. He all but said he won’t have any time for me, and what kind of relationship is that? I almost wish I didn’t know how good we could be together if we’ll just fizzle out like a match once real life kicks in.

Except, I wouldn’t trade the last two days for anything. Even if it means living with the ache of knowing these magical moments will only exist in our memories. It was worth the risk. The way Jack made me feel was worth risking everything—even the sadness of having to say goodbye.

I’m crying so hard it takes me a second to register the sound of someone knocking at my door.

I pull the comforter over my head—the only person I want tosee is at the airport, probably going through security at this very moment. Everyone else I even remotely care about is off celebrating and spending time with the ones they love most.

The knocking is getting louder and more persistent, and I’m suddenly furious at whoever is out there, making it impossible for me to fall apart in peace. I toss back the comforter and throw on a T-shirt before storming into the living room.

“Who is it?” I shout, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

“It’s…uh…the snowman destroyer.”

Confused, I fling the front door open.

It’s Jack.

Jack with his messy dark hair and electric blue eyes, his hands outstretched and a big smile on his face.

But when he sees my face—probably red and blotchy from all the crying—his smile vanishes. “Nessa…”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice catching. “You’re going to miss your flight.”

He brings his hands up to cup my face, his gaze steady and warm and gentle. “I was going to miss you more.”

His thumbs brush away the remnants of my tears, and if he were anyone else, I’d be embarrassed by the evidence of my emotional breakdown. But it’s Jack.

Jack, who made me feel safe enough to make the first move.

Jack, who turned a frozen dinner into a beautiful memory.

Jack, who made me feel, for the first time, like I’m worth choosing. Like I’m not too much—like I’m just right.

A small sob escapes me as I wrap my arms around him. He holds me close, whispering in my ear that this is exactly where he wants to be, telling me about all the things he hopes we’ll do together. That he didn’t want to miss this chance to spend more time with me.

“What about your family?” I ask, blinking up at him through my tears. “The holiday?”

Jack shrugs. “I’ll visit them for Arbor Day.”

Before I can ask him who celebrates Arbor Day, his lips are on mine. This kiss isn’t like our last one. It isn’t a goodbye, it’s a promise. It’s hello again. It says I choose you, and it says this is just the beginning.

EPILOGUE

December 24, 2027, 4:14 pm

NESSA

“Time to wake up, beautiful.”

I smile and snuggle deeper under the blanket, not ready to end this glorious nap yet. We’re in Colorado at Jack’s family cabin up in the mountains—we took the first flight out of Chicago at the crack of dawn this morning, just in case another massive snowstorm tried to ruin our plans.

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