Page 71 of Back to December
I’ve done well, sure—but it came at a cost. People see a highlight reel, not the girl behind it.
Somewhere between proving I could stand on my own and proving I wasn’t my mother, I stopped creating for joy.
And the cruel part? I told myself it was to protect Holden.
All it really did was haunt us both.
“Maybe the snow will stick around for our wedding,” Ella sighs, tipping her head back to look at Luke. “My parents had snow.”
“If it doesn’t, we’ll ship in snow if that’s what will make you happy,” Luke murmurs, leaning closer.
They meet in a kiss, and I have to look away.
It’s not the PDA—it’s the missing piece in my chest, like someone used a hole punch in my heart. Being back here for Ella’s wedding just makes it ache. The urge to fill that emptiness is usually what sends me running to the one person who can bandage the wound and make me feel whole again.
I’m not unfamiliar with this feeling, though it’s usually not so strong. The ache spreads like cold beneath my coat, and for one long beat, I imagine what it might be like to let myself lean on him again. I promised myself I’d stop treating him like my personal oxygen tank.
But the truth slips in—ugly but honest—no matter howhard I fight it, like a finger slip that opens the front-facing camera by accident. Being in the same place as Holden again makes it easier to breathe. To exist.
Maybe that’s what love is supposed to do—steady your pulse instead of set it on fire.
I once believed love was burning red.
But standing here in the snow, it feels golden.
“Are you okay?” Ella’s voice is soft, almost swallowed by the north wind.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, pulling my coat tighter around me. “Just cold.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“My best quality,” I try.
She wraps me in a hug—warmth cutting through cold like sunlight through snow.
“We’ve already weathered the worst of it,” she says, wrapping her arms around me. “You can’t make it worse.” Her warmth hits me like sunlight through snow, reminding me what lasting love looks like.
I know she believes that. For her sake, I hope she’s right. If anyone deserves a happily ever after, it would be Ella, soon-to-be Jackson. Maybe when the wedding is over, I’ll talk to her about all the choices I’m carrying, but until then, my lips are sealed.
“I’m fine,” I insist. “Get over there with your hunky future husband and his adorable child and enjoy your time together.”
She gives me a loud kiss on the cheek, and I pretend to cringe, like I absolutely hate it. But her over-the-top gesture reminds me that only part of my family splintered—not this one. Not the one that counts.
“I’m not letting this go,” she says.
I fidget with my beanie. “You know, I really miss that backward cap thing Luke had going on.”
Ella rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’m going.”
The snow isn’t quiet and lazy anymore. Now it falls in fat flakes, fast enough that they blur the lights of the Christmas tree into a beautiful watercolor. Holden glances up at the sky with a furrowed brow and concern etching his handsome face.
After a moment of consideration, he closes the distance between us.
“Hey,” Holden says, nudging my elbow with his. The scent of cinnamon and cloves washes over me before his words do. “We should probably get a move on soon. This looks like round two.”
“Round two?”
Please let that have actual caffeine this time.
