Page 45 of Christmas With My Ex

He gently places the tray down beside me, and I sit up, pulling the blankets around me. He grabs a T-shirt out of his bag and hands it to me.

The tray is simple but perfect—a steaming cup of what looks like a latte or maybe a cappuccino, a plate with scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit. There’s even a little sprig of holly on the side of the plate, and I chuckle at the thoughtfulness of it all.

“You really went all out,” I tease, but there’s a warmth in my chest that I can’t ignore. The simplicity of the moment, the thoughtfulness behind it—it overwhelms me in the best way.

Nicholas sits down on the edge of the bed, his eyes soft as they meet mine. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

I reach for the coffee, taking a slow sip, letting the warmth of it spread through me. There’s something about this moment—this quiet, intimate Christmas morning—that makes my chest tighten with emotion. It’s not just the coffee or the breakfast. It’s him. It’s us.

“Thank you so much,” I whisper again, my voice catching slightly. I'm slightly overwhelmed, not used to anyone doing so much for me.

Nicholas’s hand moves to mine, his fingers gently wrapping around mine as he leans in a little closer. “You okay?”

I nod, but my throat feels tight, and I have to blink back the sudden sting of tears. It’s silly, really. But after everything we’ve been through, after all the ups and downs, being here with him—this—it’s almost too much. The kind of too much that’s both overwhelming and beautiful.

“Yeah,” I say softly, my voice trembling just a bit. “I just, I really appreciate this.”

His brow furrows slightly, concern flickering across his face. “It’s just breakfast, Rives,” he rightfully gives me a hard time.

I shake my head, smiling through the tears that are now threatening to spill over. “True. But it's incredibly thoughtful. And, unlike me, you didn't disappear leaving me alone in your room.”

He looks at me for a long moment, his expression softens. "I see what you're saying, but there is no way to deny we've come a long way," he draws out the "o" in long, "since this time yesterday. I had to earn your trust back."

“Well, you have,” I respond matter-of-factly. I lean in and kiss him. There is nothing I can say that will convey how much this seemingly small gesture means to me.

His words settle into me, and I can’t stop the single tear that finally slips down my cheek. Nicholas reaches up, his thumb brushing it away gently, and I lean into his touch, feeling the tenderness of it, the care in every small movement.

For a moment, neither of us speaks. We just sit there, the weight of everything between us hanging in the air, but not in a badway. It’s a shared understanding, a quiet acknowledgment of everything that’s passed between us and everything that’s still to come.

“Where's your food?” I ask, suddenly stingy and not wanted to share.

He smiles again, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “I actually brought some! Let me grab it and strip down and I'll join you in bed. If that's okay, of course?”

"Hurry up! I'm hungry."

He stands up and leans down to kiss me before running into the living area.

I close my eyes, letting the warmth of his kiss settle over me. Merry Christmas to me.

9:32am

Nicholas lies next to me,his arm draped across my waist, the warmth of his body against mine comforting.

We’ve just finished breakfast, and things couldn't be more perfect.

I take that back—it isn't as perfect as it could be. I’m still harboring a secret so big that it could drive him away before we even get a chance to see where this will go.

I stare up at the ceiling, the lingering taste of coffee on my lips and my mind racing. The familiar gnaw of guilt twists in mychest. I’ve been avoiding this moment, putting it off for as long as I could. But now, lying here in this quiet, peaceful space, I realize I can’t hold it in anymore.

I have to tell him. Now.

Even though it’s Christmas. Even though everything feels like it’s finally falling into place. I can’t keep carrying this and expect to have a fully clean slate unless I come clean.

Especially not after I made such a big deal about him not being completely honest with me. I'm not normally a hypocrite or a coward, but I'm certainly acting like both now.

My heart pounds in my chest, and I try to swallow the lump forming in my throat. My fingers trace the edge of the blanket, nerves rattling through me. Nicholas is so close, his steady breathing keeping me grounded, but I know this could shatter everything.

He shifts beside me, glancing over with that same easy smile from earlier. “What can I get you?”

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