Page 73 of The Christmas Cookie Crush

She takes a deep breath. “I’m going to be the Assistant Manager at the Christmas Emporium. Sarah offered me the job today.”

My breath freezes in my chest at her announcement, my whole body going cold. “So …”

Hesitantly, she moves closer to me. A half step, no more. “So I’ve figured out what happens after graduation. I know where I’ll be. Here.”

The words are soft, little more than a whisper, but they echo through me with the strength and shock of a klaxon. “That’s great,” I manage to whisper. “I’m happy for you.”

Her expression turns pleading. “Don’t you see? This—us—what we have, it doesn’t have to be over.”

“Doesn’t it?”

She blinks, rocking back on her heels like the words are a slap. “Does it?” Now her voice is hoarse, harsh, choked.

I thought that would make me feel better—evidence that she’s as hurt as I am. But it doesn’t. It does the opposite.

Closing my eyes, I rub my fingers between my eyebrows. “I don’t know, Nora. What am I supposed to do with this? How am I supposed to respond?”

She lets out a harsh breath. “I … I guess I don’t know. I thought …” Her swallow is audible in the stillness of the house, not even the sound of cars passing outside to interrupt us. I open my eyes to see her hand drop, like she was just reaching for me. “Well, I guess I thought that”—a sniff—“that if we had a possible way forward, we could still be together.” The final words are a whisper so quiet, I read her lips more than hear them.

“Why wasn’t that possible before?” My voice is finally steady. Firm. The way I want it to be. Why couldn’t she give us a chance even when she didn’t see the way through?

She clasps her hands over her chest. “I’m sorry, Austin.” She’s still whispering, her voice still choked with tears, and one slides down her cheek, but she doesn’t wipe it away this time. “I wanted …” She shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to break up with you. I was trying to talk to you, and the words came out all wrong. I do that.” She offers me a sad smile. “I have a tendency to say the wrong things and ruin moments and relationships.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she ducks her chin, looking down. “I don’t know why. I don’t try to. It just happens. I am, after all, the ruiner of things.”

God, the broken hurt in her voice kills me. I can’t take it anymore. I close the distance between us and pull her into myarms. “Stop it,” I command. “You are not. I’m the one who left. Who didn’t let you finish saying what you were trying to say. I didn’t hear you out or propose anything or let you have time and space to come to your own decisions. I wanted you to be on the same page as me immediately without giving you a chance.”

Lifting her head, she blinks up at me, eyes red, lashes clumped and spiky with tears. “I still said it all wrong.”

“So we’re both not perfect. You say the wrong things. I jump to conclusions.” I stare into her eyes, barely daring to recognize the hope there. “So … you’re coming back to Arcadian Falls after you graduate? That’s what you want?”

She nods. “Yes.” Her voice gurgles, and she stops to clear her throat. “Yes.” It’s firm this time. “It’s what I want. It’s what I’vealwayswanted. I just didn’t know it was ever a possibility. I thought—” She shakes her head. “I thought there wasn’t room for me.” It’s a whisper again. “I thought I was the afterthought, the flighty one who everyone just watched, waiting for me to fail.”

“But that’s not true. You’re not like that at all.”

One shoulder lifts. “Apparently, you’re right. At least where my parents and Sarah are concerned. Their advice and encouragement wasn’t because I was too stupid, it was because they want what’s best for me. And they were waiting for me to decide what I wanted without pressuring me to do something specific because they didn’t want to make me feel like I couldn’t branch out if that’s what I wanted. And I thought there wasn’t room for me in the family business. Or that the room they made was grudging because I’m too much of a screw-up to make it on my own.”

“Oh, Nora.” I hug her tightly, pressing her head to my chest and kissing her forehead.

She lets me comfort her for a moment. “What does this mean?” she asks in a whisper.

Pausing, I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It means that I want you,” I answer. “For always. If you’ll have me.”

In answer, she pulls her arms free and wraps them over my shoulders, lifting her face and pressing a kiss to my lips. I’m surprised enough that it takes me a second to respond, but I cradle her head and kiss her back.

Dear god, I thought I’d never do this again.

But here she is, in my arms, a plan for the future in place. A plan that includes me and fills all the desires she’s had for years.

The whiplash is breathtaking. And the reality hasn’t quite settled into my bones yet. But hope blooms inside me, filling me up and banishing all the lingering sadness.

“This is real?” I ask, breaking the kiss to peer into her face once more.

She smiles at me. A real smile, no more of the sad, forced smiles. “Yes. It’s real. Merry Christmas.”

Grinning, I kiss her again. “Merry Christmas,” I murmur against her lips.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Nora

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