Page 56 of Her Secret Santa

She lifts the remote and turns on the TV in front of us. My brows furrow in confusion as misery threatens to overwhelmme. I’ve already heard all the horrible rumors circulating about me, and this reminder is exactly what I’ve been avoiding all day. But instead of a smug reporter on screen, I see Zade. He looks paler than usual, with bags under his eyes and ruffled hair, dressed in a simple black button down as he speaks to a group of reporters.

“I’m not here to deny the allegations of my relationship with Clara,” he says firmly, and I wince. “I’m here to clear up the rumors surrounding the situation. I’m the one who pursued Clara. We met while I was playing Santa, and she showed me how kind-hearted a person can be. She made me want to be like that too. Everything being said about her being a gold digger is an absolute lie. I’m happy to have the public believe the worst of me, but I won’t stand for anyone to believe anything by the best of Clara.”

It’s just a clip of his speech, the video cutting off and shifting back to a group of reporters who immediately start picking apart his words.

Tears burn hot in my eyes, anxiety and a deep-rooted desire to trust Zade warring in my gut. I was expecting the media to continue their slander and attack me, not for Zade to appear on the screen and stand up for me.

My grandma passes me a tissue to dab at my eyes before her attention shifts behind me, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I can’t turn around as the aide comes in and wheels her out into the hallway because I can feel eyes on the back of my skull. I can feel the attention, and I have no idea what to do.

I hear footsteps, muffled over soft carpet.

And then Zade comes into view, heartbreakingly gorgeous in front of me, kneeling in front of me where I sit in my grandma’s favorite armchair like he’s never seen something more perfect. I can’t even bring myself to be upset that my grandma set meup because the overwhelming wave of calm that washes over me tells me everything I need to know about how I really feel.

Every ounce of my being longs to fall right into his arms, desperate to feel the warmth of his embrace again. It’s such a strong desire that I can’t even move with the weight of it.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, dark eyes mapping my face like he’s trying to memorize every single line of it.

“Zade,” I whisper, a million words welling up on my tongue as emotions overwhelm me.

His hands shake when he finally pulls his phone out of his pocket, pulling something up before handing it over to me. I look between his face and the phone in confusion.

“Please,” he whispers.

I take the phone, but dragging my eyes away from him takes gargantuan effort.

Shock slams into me when I finally look down and read through the article he pulled up. On the screen, clear as day in black and white text, is more than I could ever even imagine. It’s an interview from earlier today in which he details the charity he’s starting in my honor. He’s fundraising for children’s homes and nursing homes in the city, ensuring that their needs are met and promising that he’ll do his part to ensure no one goes without while other people have more than they could ever need.

“I want to do it together,” he says as I reach the end of the article. “You know the city. You understand what people need. You know how to give, and if it wasn’t for you, just watching you be the selfless, incredible person you are, I don’t think I’d have ever even thought about learning how to do that too. You’ve given me so many special moments, and I never realized how important that kind of thing could be. I want to help you make sure that all of these people have the life they deserve.”

Tears spring to my eyes, and I launch myself into his arms. He grunts at the impact, stumbling back in surprise, but his arms squeeze tight around me. I can hear his heart hammering in his chest, feel the tremble in his arms as he holds me, and I can’t think of anything but how much I never want this to end.

I reach up with clumsy, fumbling hands, and yank him down into a kiss that feels like heaven and home all at once.

I’m crying, or maybe he is, or we both are, but there’s wetness on our cheeks, and I can’t stop smiling for long enough to properly kiss him.

“You gave me so much,” he whispers against my lips. “In return, I’m yours. I’ll give you everything, the best life you could ever imagine, and I’ll learn how to be better from you. I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t want you to go anywhere either. I know I fucked up, and I can’t take that back. I promised you I’d handle the media, and I wasn’t careful enough, but I swear I’ll?—”

All I can do is kiss him again, emotion welling so high that I can hardly breathe, much less speak.

“I love you.” It’s the only thing I think to say. “I love you, Zade. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you too,” he says, the words muffled against my lips and dripping with desperation and affection. “I love you so fucking much, Clara. I’m proud to be with you, I’m proud to call you mine. No hiding, no uncertainty. I’m yours, little one.”

I melt into him, euphoric and adoring and so in love I can feel it in my bones, happier than I know what to do with. I don’t think I’ve ever been this wholly happy in my life.

“My own personal Santa Claus,” I giggle between kisses.

“Yeah, well, you dropped your list. Figured I had to do something about it,” he teases, winding his arms around my waist and looking into my eyes with so much love it almost hurts. “You know that list was only the beginning, right? I’m going to give you the entire world.”

I pull him down into another kiss, the only way I could possibly answer him. One day I’ll be able to tell him that he gave me the whole world when he decided to be mine, but for now, I’ll bask in the warmth of his arms, knowing that he truly will do whatever it takes to keep me.

It turned out to be a very Merry Christmas after all.

Epilogue

CLARA

One Year Later, New Years Eve

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