Page 77 of Saved By Noel
“Well? What could be sooo important from the jerk who broke my best friend’s heart?” she spits. Guess I’m officially back on Madison’s bad side.
I attempt to disarm her with honesty. “You mean the jerk who knows he messed up and desperately wants to apologize? Who is here to beg to put your best friend’s heart back together? That’s what's so important.”
Madison’s face softens. “You swear you’re here to fix things and not make them worse? Because I don’t know if you’ve caught on to this or not, but my Clara is a sensitive soul. And one more rejection from you might crush her spirit beyond recognition.”
“I love her, Madison. I’m here to tell her that. I just have to find her,” I answer truthfully. She nods her head in approval.
“In that case, I’ll tell you exactly where to find her. Don’t let me down, McScrooge.”
“I—what?”
“Not important. What’s important is that you hightail it over to Crown Center and look for Clara by the giant Christmas tree.”
The drive from Overland Park to Crown Center in Kansas City, Missouri, is maddening. I’m tempted to sit on a bench for an hour by myself to regulate my blood pressure. But I’m more determined to find Clara and tell her how I feel before it’s too late.
If it’s not already too late.
The Christmas festival in Noel was uncomfortably crowded for me—but nothing could have prepared me for the sheer number of people packed into Crown Center. Young families taking their kids to visit Santa, an overflowing ice-skating rink, couples posing for photos in front of the Christmas trees. Even though there are still traces of daylight, the lights are turned on, filling the space with sparkle. It’s easy to see why Clara expects Christmas cheer everywhere she goes if this is what she grew up around.
I walk slowly through the area, looking everywhere for her beautiful face. Not finding her right away, I brave the ice skating crowds to see if she’s watching the kids out on the ice. No dice.
Panic sets in. Panic that she’s not here any longer, that she left and I’m back to square one. I still have her father’s number, but I’d much rather declare my love directly to Clara instead of having to explain to another person why I’m here.
Just when my hope is dimming, I spot the familiar shine of strawberry-blond curls. My breath catches in my chest as I watch her profile—sitting on a bench near the large Christmas tree, staring up at its lights.
There’s a sadness cast over her features that I know I’m responsible for. A sadness that I’m determined to chase away for the rest of my life, if she’ll let me.
I make my way toward Clara, my long stride quickly eating up the space between us. As I approach her bench, I call out her name.
She turns at the sound of my voice, eyes going wide when she sees me. “Clark?”
Clara stands abruptly, turning to face me but crossing her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?”
“I have to talk to you, Clara.”
“But how did you find me here?” she cuts in.
“I went to your office, but when you weren’t there, Madison told me where to find you,” I admit.
“Madison told you?” Clara sounds skeptical, confused. I nod. She must know that her bouncer of a best friend wouldn’t have led me near her without good reason. I see her body relax the slightest bit, but her arms stay tightly wrapped around herself. “What do you have to say?”
“I want to tell you that I’m sorry for how I acted that night at the festival. The night you kissed me. It probably felt like I was rejecting you by not kissing you back—”
Her incredulous laugh cuts me off. “Gee, wonder why it would have felt that way?”
“But I wasn’tnotkissing you for the reason you thought I was,” I cut back in. She’s blinking quickly, trying but failing to fend off tears. I take a step forward and brush a stray curl off her forehead. “I didn’t kiss you back, not because I didn’t want to kiss you. I didn’t kiss you back because Ididwant to kiss you.”
Clara purses her lips and shakes her head. “That makes no sense, Clark.”
I rub my beard and sigh. “I know. I’m trying to explain, but it’s hard for me to explain . . . feelings.” Her eyes soften enough to give me strength to continue trying.
“Clara, I thought that I was wrong for you. That if you were with me, you’d wind up miserable because of the type of man I am. I . . . I don’t like needing other people. Quite frankly, I was determinednotto need anyone, ever. But you get such joy out of helping other people, out of being needed, that I thought you’d slowly suffocate in a relationship with me. That my lack of depending on you would suck all the air out of your lungs.”
“Clark, that would never—” She tries to interrupt, but I hold up a hand.
“Hold on, let me finish. That’s the reason I told myself that I was pushing you away. But then I started to realize that it wasn’t the true reason. It wasn’t about protecting you from me. At least, notonlyabout that.”
I take a fortifying breath before admitting my next thought. “I realized that the way Iwantedyou felt a lot likeneedingyou. Needing your spunky energy challenging my stubborn streak. Needing your smile making my heart catch. Needing your laugh brightening the air around me. Needing your kindness taming my grumpy side. Needing your concern for other people pulling me out of myself. Needing your eyes staring into mine every morning. Needing everything about you in my life, every day.”
