Page 1 of One Little Chance
Prologue
DECEMBER 23RD, 2023
Icould still remember when I first fell in love. How I fell in love slowly, like growing up, over years and years. Snow was falling outside this December morning as I peeked out my living room window, little kisses blown by Jack Frost. Fire crackles in the fireplace warming my little house.
I had waited for this day since I was a little girl. It had me reflecting onlove.
When I first fell in love, it sounded like my childhood best friend, Jordan, laughing my name, “Sophie,” as my chestnut hair fell across my eyes. It felt like him brushing it behind my ear.
I watched the snow pile up in the park across the street, thinking about how heartbreak also sounded like Jordan’s voice, holding back tears as he pleaded, “Sophie,” his hazel eyes on me as I walked away at eighteen.
I let the thick white curtain fall back over the window, rubbing my arms for warmth. I moved into this house only a year ago. Last December, back when I broke the promise I’d made to myself to never return to Sweet River.
Chapter 1
DECEMBER 24TH, 2022
It was icy the day before Christmas. My breath came out in little puffs as I yanked my suitcase from the back of the silvery blue Corolla I parked outside my mom’s house. Since my parents’ divorce, she’d changed her last name back to her maiden name, Viletti, and moved into this little house my brother and I lovingly called the Viletti Villa.
She had apologetically admitted over the phone a couple of years ago that she was renting a place a few houses down the street from Jordan—my ex.
Thoughexdidn’t quite communicate everything Jordan Silk was to me.
He was my childhood crush, my high school sweetheart, my best friend. Like a favorite jacket that fit just right no matter how I grew over the years. The voice I would fall asleep to on the phone when we were apart on family vacations. A face I searched for in the stands during track meets, to remind me that I was a winner no matter the score.
Growing up down the street from him in my family’s old house had been a gift I used to use to my advantage, walking over on the weekends and pushing the boundaries on my curfew until the very last possible second.Now, eight years since ourbreakup, in Mom’s new house, the proximity to his family’s place made staying at Mom’s house stressful, I bitterly thought as I slammed my car door. I froze at a familiar sound.
Oh no. Christmas carolers.It was December 24.I knew, Jordan’s family, the Silk’s traditions.
Christmas lights blinked to life across this street. I tried to hurry, throwing a couple of bags over my shoulder and grabbing my rolling suitcase to scurry up the driveway. The achingly familiar voices grew closer.
When the heel of my boot hit a patch of ice, my legs slid under me.Ouch. I landed on my behind.Chilly water soaked into my jeans as my face blazed red.
The carolers were far enough away not to witness the fall but close enough that as I hobbled back up, they arrived in front of the driveway just in time to see me awkwardly trying to pull my coat over my soaked bottom.
I doubted Jordan realized this was my mother’s house. Or, in this small town…he totally knew. Butshehadn’t dumped him their freshman year of college, cut off all communication, and married someone else. Caroling in front of her was an entirely different situation than caroling in front ofme.
As Jordan and his family sang, “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” I froze in place. Would it be rude to turn and bolt? Should I sing along? Who would I look at?Do not look at Jordan’s face. Do not look at Jordan’s face.Though staring at his beefy, quarterback shoulders wasn’t exactly a comfort either.
My mom’s hunter-green front door creaked open before they sang the last few lines. She rushed out across the front porch, clapping for the end of the performance. I gave her something between a smile and a pained wince.
Everyone merrily wished us a Merry Christmas, and Jordan’s eyes latched onto mine. Two puzzle pieces connected. Like ourconnection was unavoidable. He stepped back in surprise at my presence.
His hazel eyes were puffy, rimmed in red. His shoulders hunched. His sandy hair was a mess. He was hurting. Something had happened.
After all this time, my entire body was reflexively drawn to wrap hurting Jordan in my arms, to soak up his sorrow like a sponge. I bit back the urge to reach out to him because I’d erased those rights out of my life.
He pulled his gaze away quickly, shaking his head as if standing there with tear-stained eyes singing Christmas songs in front of his ex-girlfriend was just too much.
I watched his family walk away, his grandmother rubbing his back as they strolled back home. Noting, with a glimmer of something recklessly close to hope, that his girlfriend of the past couple of years, Emma Brown, wasnotwith him.
The Silks started singing “Oh Holy Night” as they walked further down the street. It used to be me all huddled in my fluffy coat singing along with them, giggling through the cold.
My mom swung her arm around my shoulder clutching my puffy white coat. “Oh, babe, welcome home.”
Icuddled underneath a chunky knit blanket on my mom’s living room couch as she shuffled around the kitchen only separated from the living space by a half kitchen bar. The whole house smelled of Mom’s spaghetti Bolognese.
It had been eight years since I was the one bundled up with Jordan’s family. His mom wrapped her red scarf around my neck to keep me warm as we sang Christmas songs under the glow of the neighborhood’s twinkle lights. I’d been singing along with them from the time I was a little girl in pigtails until I was a senior in high school. It wasmyChristmas tradition, too.Hearing it outside my mom’s windows as she brewed me a cup of tea felt like turning the pages of a scrapbook I’d kept locked away for years.
