Page 49 of Falling for Santa

Scott sat motionless at his workbench, surrounded by half-finished projects that seemed to mock his earlier enthusiasm. His fingers traced the edges of a partially carved wedding arch he'd been commissioned to make—the kind meant to frame someone else's happy ending. The irony wasn't lost on him. A month ago, crafting something like this would have filled him with hope. Now each curve in the wood felt like a reminder of possibilities lost.

"We're leaving. Tomorrow morning."

Her words echoed in his mind for what felt like the thousandth time. The memory of her standing on that porch, arms wrapped tightly around herself, felt like a knife twisting deeper with each replay. He'd spent days analyzing every moment, every word, wondering what he could have done differently.

What if he'd told her sooner how he felt? What if he'd made it clearer that she and Ruby weren't just holiday magic to him, but something real and precious? What if he'd fought harder when she said goodbye?

The workshop suddenly felt too small, too confined, too full of projects he'd planned to share with them. Scott stoodabruptly, grabbing his keys from the hook by the door. He needed to drive, to move, to do anything but sit here drowning in what-ifs.

Outside, Palmar Island seemed muted, as if the departure of holiday decorations had taken all the color with it. The streets that had sparkled with Christmas lights just days ago now looked ordinary, almost abandoned. Or maybe that was just his perception, colored by the hollow feeling in his chest.

His truck moved on autopilot through familiar streets, and Scott didn't realize where he was heading until he turned onto Megan's street.

The sight of the "For Sale" sign stopped him cold.

Scott pulled over, his hands tight on the steering wheel as he stared at the stark red and white sign planted in the yard where Ruby used to play. The bungalow looked different—empty in a way that went beyond the missing curtains and cleared yard. The absence of Ruby's chalk drawings on the walkway, of her beloved stuffed animals watching from the window, felt like physical proof that they were really gone.

"Let them go," he whispered, his voice rough in the quiet truck cab.

He'd known they'd left, of course. Had spent days trying to accept it. But seeing the sign made it real in a way that twisted something deep inside him. This wasn't just a temporary goodbye. This was final.

His phone sat heavy in his pocket. It would be so easy to call her, to try one more time to convince her that she belonged here. That Palmar Island could be more than just a temporary haven. That he?—

Scott cut off that thought before it could fully form. She'd made her choice. The practical choice, she'd called it. The right choice for Ruby's future. And who was he to argue with that?A small-town carpenter who played Santa once a year wasn't exactly the stable future she was looking for.

Still, he couldn't help remembering Ruby's laughter as she fed carrots to Cupid, or the way Megan's eyes crinkled when she smiled—really smiled, not the careful, guarded expression she usually wore. They'd brought something into his life he hadn't even realized was missing until it was gone.

A car passed by, breaking his reverie. Scott straightened in his seat, aware suddenly of how long he'd been sitting there, staring at an empty house. This wouldn't help anything. Megan and Ruby were gone, starting their new life in San Diego. He needed to accept that and move on.

But as he put the truck in gear and pulled away, the ache in his chest told a different story. The workshop would still feel too quiet, the island too empty. And no matter how many times he told himself it was for the best, his heart refused to believe it.

The "For Sale" sign grew smaller in his rearview mirror, but its image seemed burned into his mind. Another reminder that sometimes love wasn't enough. Sometimes practical won out over possible, and all the Christmas magic in the world couldn't change that.

Scott drove aimlessly, letting the familiar streets of Palmar Island blur together. The place he'd considered home for so long felt different, as if Megan and Ruby had taken something essential with them when they left. The magic of possibility, maybe. Or the simple joy of believing that sometimes fairy tales could come true.

As he finally turned back toward his workshop, Scott tried to convince himself that this was just another ending, another chapter closed. He'd survive it, just like he'd survived everything else life had thrown at him. Soon his business would reopen and he’d be elbow deep in work. To busy to miss what could have been.

But deep down, in the quiet places he tried not to examine too closely, he knew the truth. Some people changed your life simply by being in it, and when they left, they took pieces of you with them.

Chapter Twenty-One

Megan unlocked the door to their new apartment, her hands trembling slightly as she turned the key. She pushed the door open, revealing a sleek, modern space filled with clean lines and neutral tones. The apartment was everything the photos had promised. It had polished hardwood floors, stainless steel appliances, and large windows that let in the bright California sunlight. It was perfect, at least on paper.

Ruby walked in ahead of her, clutching her stuffed bear in one hand and dragging her tiny suitcase in the other. She looked around with wide eyes. “Mama, where’s the beach?”

Megan smiled faintly, setting the larger suitcase by the door. “It’s not far, sweetie. We’ll see it soon.”

But even as she said the words, Megan’s heart ached. This wasn’t Palmar Island. There were no gentle ocean breezes carrying the scent of salt and wildflowers, no weathered porches or cheerful holiday lights strung between shops. The clean lines and muted tones of the apartment seemed to echo the emptiness she felt.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to focus. Ruby needed stability, and this was the first step. “Let’s get unpacked, okay?” Megan said, trying to inject some cheer into her tone.

Ruby nodded, her curls bouncing, and followed Megan to the living room. Megan opened a box labeled “Ruby’s Things” and began arranging her daughter’s favorite toys on a small shelf by the couch. She placed the wooden Cupid ornament carefully on her daughter’s nightstand where it would be visible and in easy reach whenever Ruby needed it. Her fingers lingered on the smooth wood, and memories of Scott giving it to her daughter played in her mind.

“Mama, where’s Cupid?” Ruby asked, her voice tinged with curiosity as she plopped onto the floor with her stuffed bear.

Megan froze for a moment, her chest tightening. She knelt beside Ruby, brushing a stray curl from her daughter’s face. “Cupid stayed with Santa Scott on the island for now, sweetie,” she explained gently.

Ruby’s eyes widened, and she clutched her bear closer. “Do you think he misses us?”

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