Page 3 of The Greatest Gift

She’ll realize soon enough and when she does, I hope it burns. She deserves to feel that hollow ache, the loss of something she thought she could hold onto forever. For once,shecan deal with the fallout.

I sigh and grab the lukewarm hot chocolate to place into the trash with a grimace. Outside the café window, snow begins to fall, soft flakes drifting slowly to the ground. It should feel calming, like a fresh start, but it doesn’t. Instead, it stirs something restless in me, a need to do something,fixsomething.

Judd and Stevie deserve better than what Ava left them with. The thought of them struggling through Christmas because of her selfishness makes me sick. I don’t have much to offer these days, but I’ll figure something out. I’ll make sure their holiday is warm and bright—perfect, if I can manage it.

And Judd… I can’t stop thinking about him. The way he looked earlier, the faint blush on his cheeks when we spoke. It was barely there, but I saw it. Adorable, honestly. It’s strange, seeing him again after all these years, and stranger still how it makes me feel. He’s a single dad, holding it all together the best he can. I shouldn’t complicate that. But still, the memory of his blush lingers.

I step outside, the crisp air biting at my skin as I breathe it in. The town looks picturesque, almost magical. Nostalgia tugs at me, a bittersweet longing for something I can’t name.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and Judd’s name lights up the screen as I unearth the device. My heart stumbles, caught off guard. When I answer, his voice is soft, almost hesitant.

“Hey, Nakul?” He pauses like he’s unsure of himself. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier. I’m not great with people, and, uh, the holidays… they’re a lot.”

Warmth spreads through me, a quiet kind of joy at the fact that he even called. He doesn’t owe me an apology, not for anything, but the fact that he wants to connect means more than I can explain.

“How about dinner?” he asks, his words coming out in a rush. “If you’re free, I mean. It’d be nice to… talk. And maybe I can properly thank you for, well, for everything.”

Dinner. With Judd. A smile breaks across my face, the cold air around me forgotten. “I’d love that,” I say, meaning every word. “I’d really like that, Judd.”

We make plans for tomorrow evening and when the call ends, I can’t stop grinning. Maybe this winter won’t be so bleak after all.

Judd

The whole babysitter situation is a bust. I’m working through my contacts, scrolling past names, and double-checking schedules, but one by one, each option falls through. Mom and Dad are busy this evening and my sisters won’t be in town until tomorrow. I could ask one of my neighbors to sit with her for a few hours but that doesn’t sit right with me. My sisters or my parents, sure—they’re family. But anyone else? Not a chance.

The whole child support thing last year, fighting for Ava to even acknowledge Stevie’s needs, was a nightmare. I hate the thought of Stevie being left with anyone who doesn’t really know her. And now I know why the payments stopped. She had no intention of supporting her own daughter.

And as much as I’d like to cancel this dinner, something makes me hesitate. It’s not just dinner. It’s Nakul. Maybe I’m lonelier than I realized, or maybe I just need to feel like myself for a night, to talk to someone who remembers me before all of this. Either way, I’m stuck in a bind and I don’t want to back out now.

After one last look at the list of names, I let out a sigh and pick up my phone. Nakul answers on the second ring and I can already hear the understanding in his voice.

“Hey, Nakul… about dinner…” I start, a bit unsure. “Bundling Stevie up and getting her out tonight would be too much. I’d hate to cancel on you, but…”

“No, I get it,” he says quickly, an edge of disappointment in his tone. “Don’t worry about it. We can do this some other time if that’s easier.”

A silence falls between us and before I even know what I’m doing, the words are spilling out. “Or… you could just come over instead?”

I hear the surprise in Nakul’s pause, but then he laughs, a warm sound that I’ve missed in my house. “Are you sure?”

I don’t know why I offered it. Maybe I’m desperate for some company that doesn’t revolve around diapers or work deadlines. Or maybe I just need a reason to look back on something other than spreadsheets and bills. “Yeah, I’m sure. Just, uh… don’t mind the mess.”

“Deal. See you soon.”

I hang up, unsure of what I’m hoping for—just some friendly conversation, maybe—but the thought of having Nakul here, of just talking with someone who knows a bit about who I used to be, feels like a small lifeline. I quickly text him the address and then rush around, trying to tidy up as much as I can.

There are toys and blankets everywhere, the kitchen is a mess, and Stevie’s trail of goldfish crackers snakes across the living room floor like breadcrumbs. I do my best, ordering from her favorite Italian place to keep things easy.

By the time the doorbell rings, I’m half-asleep on the couch with Stevie nestled on my lap, her little hands gripping my shirt as she dozes off. I gently shift her off me, placing her on a pillow and head to the door, trying to shake off the grogginess.

When I open it, Nakul is there, holding a bag with our food, an eager grin on his face. He resembles the kid I knew in high school, the man donning a sports jacket, his hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.

“Come on in,” I say, trying not to sound as nervous as I feel. “And, uh… sorry for the mess.” I know I already apologized for it, feeling even more self-conscious than this afternoon. Why did I invite him over, again?

Nakul waves a hand, brushing off my apology. “Don’t even worry about it. You’ve got a four-year-old. It’s impressive the place is as clean as it is.” He holds up the bags. “I grabbed it from the delivery guy. Hope you don’t mind.”

I chuckle, leading him inside. He follows me to the table, setting down the food. I quickly get Stevie settled with her own plate of pasta and some breadsticks, her face lighting up as she digs in. Nakul watches her with a warm smile, a look I don’t often see from someone who’s not family.

Once Stevie’s taken care of, we sit down with our own plates. At first, the silence between us is a bit awkward, filled only by the sound of forks scraping against plates. I’m not sure where to start, how to find common ground after so many years and the only thing now linking us is our disdain for our ex.

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