Page 75 of A Cozy Holiday
“Isn’t this the entrance you always seem to make?” He gives me a soft smile, but there is hurt in his eyes. Hurt I caused.
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you for leaving a note. I got the books you left, if that’s why you’re here.”
“I’m back.”
“For your books.”
“No.” I close the distance between us. “For you. For us. For whatever this thing is that’s happened between us in the last month.”
“But your clinic.”
“Not important.”
“And what about New York?”
“I made a mistake.”
He shakes his head, and I see it then—the careful hope he’s trying not to show, the fear of being hurt again. “What are you doing here?”
“Jamie, I made the biggest mistake of my life when I left.” My voice cracks.
He stops kneading and cleans his floured hands on a rag draped over the counter. Then he swipes a tear from my cheek. “Talk to me.”
“I got scared.” The admission feels like it’s being torn from my chest. “I panicked. I heard you in the kitchen, and I just…I thought leaving would be easier. That it would hurt less if I was the one who walked away first.”
“Joy—”
“Let me finish. Please.” I’m crying now, tears hot on my cold cheeks. “I got back to New York—well, technically, it was New Jersey—and I couldn’t breathe. Everything felt wrong. The city felt too small and too big at the same time. Ever since my parents’ divorce, I’ve been so terrified of getting hurt that I’ve been living half a life. A safe life. A lonely life.”
He’s watching me with those steady green eyes, and I can’t stop now.
“I always thought my life would revolve around work, but I want early mornings in the barn with you. I want to help Honey with her homework and let Kiki teach me about crystals even though I don’t understand any of it. I want movie nights and donut runs and sledding competitions I’ll always win.” My voice drops to a whisper. “I want you, Jamie. I want this life. I want to stop running from the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
He sighs, rubbing his fingers over his mustache, and stares at me intently.“And tomorrow? Next week? When things get hard?”
“I’ll still want it.” I tiptoe my fingers across the floured countertop toward his. “I’ll still want you. I’m terrified, Jamie. Absolutely terrified. But I’m more scared of living without you than I am of trying and failing with you.”
“You’d do that?” His voice is rough. “You’d give up New York?”
“I’m not giving up anything. I’m choosing something better. I’m choosing a life that actually feels like mine.” I squeeze his hands. “I’m choosing you. The girls. The reindeer. This town. All of it. I’m all in, Jamie. If you’ll have me. I emailed Cathy about buying the old vet practice in town. I’ve always wanted to run my own place, but I want to be able to drive home at night to you.”
“Even on a snowmobile half the year.”
“Even if I had to wear those damn tennis racket snowshoes again.”
His laugh is a half sob, and he kisses a tear off my cheek. “Joy, I’ve been in love with you since you were buried in that pile of snow outside my house. Since you stayed up all night with me in the barn, teaching yourself everything about reindeer. Since you looked at my daughters and didn’t see complications, just the bright, brilliant girls I get to raise.”
“Jamie—”
“I love how you scrunch your entire forehead when you work. How you’ve memorized every reindeer’s name and personality. How you’ve reminded me of something I thought I would never have again.” His forehead presses to mine. “You made me believe in second chances again. In new beginnings. In the possibility that maybe the best part of my life isn’t already over.”
“I love you,” I whisper. “I love you so much it scares me. But I’m done running from things that scare me.”
“I love you too.” He says it like a vow. “And you don’t have to be perfect, Joy. You can be scared. You can mess up. You can have days when you second-guess everything. I’ll be here. We’ll figure it out together.”
“Together,” I repeat, and the word feels like coming home.
