Page 112 of Christmas in Paradise

I wipe at my eyes. “It’s been hard, but good, and Charly is thriving here. I wouldn’t stay if I didn’t think it’s the best thing for her. And for you. You deserve to just be a mom to Luke and Ashley instead of dividing yourself between all of us.”

The road blurs with the tears I can’t keep from spilling, and I slow down. “I could never have taken care of her without you all, and I don’t want this to feel like I’m taking any of that away from us, but I’m ready to have a life of my own. Charly is too.”

“This is about Seb,” Mom says as she wipes her own eyes.

I’m so grateful that I can answer that question honestly. “No, Mom, it isn’t. I don’t know what’s going to happen with Seb.” I take a breath to keep from thinking about what he said to me. I can’t give up hope.

My voice is steady when I continue. “If things do work out with us, I’ll be so excited to have a family of my own. If they don’t work, I’ll be grateful for what he’s helped me learn the last several weeks—he's been very goodtome and very goodforme. None of my time with him was wasted.”

My chest loosens, and I know I’ve spoken the truth. I’ve made the right choice. I’m still nervous, but it feels right.

Now I just need to decide if, and how, I’ll tell Seb. And when.

Not tonight. We’ve all had enough excitement for one night. Charly is conked out in the back seat from it. As I turn the corner to home, I’m ready to follow her lead and crawl into bed for at least twenty-four hours.

That’s when I hear what sounds like shouting.

“Do you hear that?” I ask my parents.

“What in the world?” Dad says, pointing to a man standing in my front yard with something blinking on his head. “Is that Seb?”

“I think so,” I say at the same time Seb shouts again.

“Hoooooope!” He calls with his hands cupped around his mouth and his head tipped up toward the front window of my condo.

The last notes of my name die as I pull into the driveway. Seb turns, sees me, and drops his hands from his mouth.

“Is he wearing Charly’s moose rack hat?” Dad asks.

“No. It’s his own,” I answer, smiling. My heart picks up speed so fast, I can barely breathe.

Mom reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You go. We’ve got Charly.”

I’m already out of the car by the time she finishes her sentence. I shut the door quietly to keep from waking Charly, then walk slowly to Seb, even though I want to run.

He waits in the middle of the yard, snow falling gently around him, his face lit up alternately red, blue, and green with the blinking lights of his beanie.

“What are you yelling about?” I ask as I get closer.

“You didn’t answer your phone or the door. I thought you didn’t want to see me.” He’s breathless and fidgety, shifting back and forth.

I shake my head. “I wasn’t here.”

“I know that now.”

His eyes are locked on mine, and his breath hangs in the frigid air with each heavy exhale. I barely register my parents carrying Charly into the house.

“You weren’t supposed to open that until Christmas.” I point to his hat.

Something about those words opens the gate, and he rushes to close the last few feet between us. His arms go around my waist, and he pulls me close enough to press his forehead to mine.

“I don’t want you to go. I should have told you that last night. I should have said it tonight when…” he closes his eyes and pulls back enough to shake his head. “I can’t lose you or Charly. That’s why I ran tonight. Watching her almost get hurt brought home how much I love you both. I don’t want you to go back to Kansas. At least not without me.”

He takes a deep breath, then presses his forehead to mine again. “I don’t want to be anywhere without you and Charly.”

I cup my hands around his face. The stubble on his cheeks pricks my palms, and I run my thumbs under his eyes to wipe away the wetness there.

“We’re not going anywhere Seb. Not without you.” I slide my hands from his face around his neck, then I’m the one to close the distance between us.

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