Page 78 of Holiday Interference
We don’t move.
Not at first.
He blinks, like maybe he’s not sure I’m real. Then shifts his bag on his shoulder and slowly closes the distance between us.
Every step scrapes against my nerves. My breath hitches, my fingers curling tighter around the keys in my coat pocket, digging into my palm like I need the reminder to hold still.
He stops a foot away.
Close enough that I can smell the clean spice of his aftershave, still clinging to the collar of his shirt.
God, he’s tall. And warm. And real.
I look up and meet his eyes.
There’s disbelief there. A flicker of hurt. And something else—hope, maybe. Hope he’s too careful to show.
I swallow hard. “Hey.”
His voice is low, scratchy from the cold or maybe the fact he’s surprised. “Noelle?”
I nod, heart pounding in my throat. “I know this probably seems crazy…”
“It doesn’t.” His answer is fast, like he was just waiting to say it.
I press my lips together, then exhale. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
His brow lifts just slightly.
And that’s all it takes for everything to pour out.
“I’m so sorry, Cal. I should’ve said something before I left. Should’ve stayed. Or…asked you to call me. But I didn’t. Because I got scared. Because I liked you more than I expected to, and I didn’t know what to do with that. It’s not an excuse, but it’s true.”
I shake my head, breath fogging the air between us.
“And then this whole week I kept telling myself it wasn’t a breakup, because we were never a thing. But itfeltlike one. And I’ve been walking around like I’m missing something I never had the right to want in the first place.”
His throat works on a swallow. But he doesn’t say a word.
So, I take one more step forward.
Close enough for my coat to brush the front of his suit.
Close enough that I can hear the soft hitch in his breath.
“I don’t want to pretend it didn’t mean anything. I don’t want to go back to being strangers who almost had something.”
His jaw clenches.
I feel it before I see it—that crack in his composure, right behind the eyes.
And still, I keep going. Because if I stop now, I’ll never say it.
“I want to be brave. I want to fall in love. Even if it’s messy. Even if it’s terrifying.”
I press my hand to his chest, right over the soft spread of his tie.
His heartbeat kicks under my palm.
