Page 24 of A Season of Second Chances
"I got distracted," I admit. "It's been a long day."
It has been. After the gift exchange this morning and the emotional conversation, we spent the afternoon doing normal Christmas things. We made more cookies, played board games, had a snowball fight outside that left all three of us soaked and laughing.
It's been perfect. Too perfect. The kind of perfect that makes you forget it's temporary.
Alana yawns again, her eyes drooping. "I'm not tired," she insists, even as her body betrays her.
"Clearly," Joy says softly, her smile gentle. "But maybe we should call it a night anyway. We can finish the movie tomorrow."
"But I want to see the end," Alana protests weakly.
"I'll tell you what happens," I offer, knowing she's about thirty seconds from being completely asleep. "The elf saves Christmas, everyone is happy, and there's a big party at the end."
"Spoiler alert," Joy murmurs, but she's grinning.
"Did I get it right?" I ask.
"Pretty much," she admits.
Alana's eyes close, and within moments her breathing evens out. She's asleep, her small body relaxed and warm. Joy and I look at each other over her, both smiling.
"I'll carry her to bed," I say quietly, moving carefully to gather Alana into my arms. She moans slightly but doesn't wake up fully, just curls into my chest the way she's done since she was a baby.
"I'll turn off the movie," Joy offers, reaching for the remote.
I carry Alana through the lobby and up the stairs to our private quarters. I lay her gently in her bed, pull the covers up to her chin, and kiss her forehead.
"Love you, princess," I whisper.
She mumbles something that might be love you too and rolls over, hugging her favorite stuffed bear.
When I come back downstairs, Joy is still on the couch, but she's moved to the middle, staring at the fireplace where the embers are glowing softly. The lobby is quiet, most of the guests went to their rooms hours ago. It's just us, the crackling fire, and the weight of everything we haven't said.
"She's out," I tell her, sitting down beside her. Not too close, not too far. "She'll sleep until the morning."
"She's a good kid, Winter." Joy turns to look at me, and there's something in her expression I can't quite read. "You've done an amazing job with her."
"Thanks." I lean back, stretching my arm along the back of the couch. Not touching her, but close enough that I could if I wanted to. If she wanted me to. "It hasn't always been easy, but she makes it worth it."
We sit in silence for a moment, and I can feel the tension building between us. It's been building all day, maybe all week, since the moment she ended up in the ditch and back into my life.
"Joy," I start, not sure what I'm going to say but knowing I need to say something.
"Winter," she says at the same time, then laughs softly. "You first."
I turn to face her fully, my hand moving to rest on her knee. She doesn't pull away. "Tomorrow you're leaving."
"Tomorrow the roads should be clear," she corrects, but we both know it means the same thing.
"Yeah." I take a breath, trying to find the right words. "I know we've been dancing around this all day. Since you showed up, really. And I know you have a life to get back to, responsibilities, a job. I'm not trying to make this harder than it already is."
"But?" she questions, her voice barely above a whisper.
"But I don't want you to leave without knowing..." I pause, struggling. "I don't want this to end with things left unsaid between us. Not again."
Joy's hand covers mine where it rests on her knee. "What do you want to say?"
"That these past few days have meant fucking everything to me." The words come easier now that I've started. "Having you here, watching you with Alana, remembering what it felt like to be with you. It's reminded me of what I've been missing. What we could have had."
