Page 48 of The Crush of Christmas Past
“Thanks,” I manage, my voice steadier than I feel. “Though I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready. This part always feels like ripping off a Band-Aid just to purposefully poke at the wound.”
I sink to the floor, dragging the box closer and flipping back its flaps. The scent of worn paper and faded paint wafts up, catching in my throat. Its sharp sting is a reminder of everything I’ve lost.
At the sound of my abrupt inhale, Theo lowers himself beside me. I hardly register the move until his shoulder brushes mine. It’s the lightest contact—hardly a touch—but it sends a sharp jolt of awareness through me.
I push the sensation aside, my attention back on the ornaments. The first one I pull out is a vintage baby cradle, its pinkand gold paint chipped from years of handling. I hold it up to the light, tracing the birth date engraved on the bottom.
“‘Our greatest adventure begins,’” Theo reads aloud. “‘Welcome, Baby Isla!’” His velvet voice is a smooth caress, urging me to keep going.
The next ornament is a porcelain tooth fairy, her delicate wings outstretched as she holds a pillow in one hand.
He scans the caption. “‘First tooth.’”
A small laugh escapes me. “The actual tooth is inside the pillow.” I demonstrate how it opens, careful not to jostle the fragile hinges.
“Impressive,” Theo praises, the word steeped in genuine admiration. “Your mom’s design?”
I nod. “She made all of them. Ninety-three ornaments across eighteen years.”
I rifle through the box, retrieving more memories. Piece by piece, the story of my happy childhood spills out. A miniature replica of our house. The Eiffel Tower with the slogan:Bon voyage, Greene Family!An enormous bowl of shave ice from our Hawaii vacation.
There are less monumental ones, too: a snowman with mismatched buttons, a mini model of my science fair project, my dad’s dream boat that forever remained just a dream.
Each memory is a small, precious shard of a world that no longer exists.
When I pull out the graduation cap ornament, my fingers linger on the tassel.Con-GRAD-ulations, Isla!The words are written in my mom’s neat handwriting.
The last ornament Celeste Greene ever made.
Theo watches me without speaking. Like all those years ago, I’m grateful for the peace his silence brings.
“She was such a talented artist, but I still teased her about crafting so many ornaments,” I murmur. “I thought it was silly to commemorate every little thing that went down in our lives. But now…” My voice cracks, and I swallow, trying to push down the lump in my throat. “Now, these stupid things are all I have left.”
Theo doesn’t offer empty platitudes. He just sits beside me, quietly passing each ornament with tender care. That kind of gentleness from a man made of stone is startling.
When he hands me a tiny brass bell—the last ornament in the box—I take it with trembling fingers. The note etched into its side marks my first Christmas recital, and I roll my eyes at the memory that resurfaces.
Theo’s lips curl into a subtle smile. “I remember you telling me about this one. The kindergarten production that ended in a dramatic kiss.”
“Maverick Prescott. The cheery elf who took his role a little too seriously. I swear I can still feel the cold smear his snotty nose left behind on my cheek.” I grimace, swiping at the spot that’s suddenly tingling. “Every year, my mom joked this trinket should be renamedIsla’s First Kiss.”
“Such trauma doesn’t belong on this tree.” He reaches out and gently taps the bell still resting in my hand. “Isla’s Best Kiss, though? Definitely branch-worthy. Prime placement, in fact.”
I open my mouth, ready to joke about how I’d first need to acquire one of those—but the words stall on my tongue. For a split second, I forgot I’m supposed to be madly in love with his brother.
The thought stings, but the dark bruise on my heart has nothing to do with my lack of love life.
Theo frowns, all humor draining from his face. “What’s wrong?”
“There won’t be any more ornaments,” I whisper, staring at the bell in my hand. “No best kiss awards. No travel adventures. No job promotion trophies, father-daughter wedding dances, first grandbaby baubles…nothing. Ever again.”
Tears prick my eyes, but I keep them at bay. A few deep breaths later, I focus on carefully fastening the final ornament to the tree. Every year, I make sure the graduation cap isn’t left until the end, but I know the order doesn’t matter.
Eventually, it’s all over.
“Somehow, even almost a hundred of these stupid things aren’t enough.” My vision blurs as my emotions threaten to spill. “I’m greedy.”
Theo doesn’t hesitate. His hand bridges the space between us, long fingers threading through mine. “You’re allowed to be greedy when it comes to the people you love. It’s fair to want more than what you’ve been forced to settle for, Isla.”
