Page 96 of Check the Halls
I lean down to kiss her, but I’m distracted by a loud scratch at the door, followed by a disgruntled meow.
“Cheshire missed you, too,” she says, opening the door so we can go in. Sure enough, the colossal feline is sittingjust inside the door looking royally pissed off to be excluded from the reunion.
“Hey, big guy.” I close the door behind me and crouch down, setting my coffee on the floor while I give him a long, hard pet. “I missed you, too. Did you have a good week with Grandma?”
I stand, kick off my Blundstones, and shrug out of my coat. As I hang it by the door, something catches my eye—a large wreath mounted on the wall. It’s full of lush greenery, with sprigs of holly tucked into the branches and a big red plaid bow tied neatly at the center.
“That’s really nice,” I say, stepping closer to get a better look. In the four years I’ve lived here, I’ve never once decorated for Christmas. It always felt pointless—I was never around for the holidays, heading home to Charlottetown every year.
“Thanks,” she says, reaching up to straighten the bow. “Mom braved the chaos of the Black Friday sale at Michaels and we got our craft on.”
“Youmadethis?”
“We did.”
I glance back at the wreath, impressed. “Well, it looks amazing.”
“Really? You like it?”
“I love it. God knows the place could use some Christmas cheer.”
She gives me a smile so beautiful that I ache to have her right here in the hall.
“I’m so relieved to hear you say that.”
Before I can ask why, she laces her fingers through mine as she leads me into my living room. Except it’s no longer my living room, it’s a scene from a Christmas card.There’s a seven-foot, fully decorated Christmas tree in front of the living room window.
“Whoa.” My eyes take in the other new additions to the room. A burgundy afghan draped over the back of my white couch, with matching throw pillows. A garland on the mantle lit softly with twinkling lights. And…is that a Santa gnome on the end table? The decor is simple, with a warm but rustic feel that matches the wreath. Well, except for the gnome.
The place looks better than it ever has, because it looks lived in. Loved. Like a home. Not just a place people sleep.
“This is—” my voice catches in my throat as I spot a framed photograph on the mantle nestled in the greenery. I don’t need to step closer to recognize it. I’ve seen it countless times.
It’s a photo of Maddy and me when we were seventeen. I remember the day it was taken. Her dad had gotten a new camera and was taking pictures to try it out. Just a regular weekday night. We’re both wearing jeans and sweatshirts. I was sitting in an old armchair in their family room. Her dad told Maddy to get in the picture, but she didn’t want to, saying that her hair was a mess. She laughed as I pulled her into my lap and he snapped the photo, capturing the moment. We’re frozen in time, smiling at each other like nothing and no one else mattered.
Maddy squeezes my hand. “Is this okay?”
I blink several times, trying to clear my head enough to understand her question. “Okay?”
“You said you wanted this to feel like my home—and I do, too. More than anything. I know I’ve held back,kept pieces of myself hidden because I was scared—scared of being vulnerable, of letting you in only to lose you again. I thought if I didn’t give you everything, maybe I could protect myself. But all that’s done is keep me at a distance from the one place I want to be most: with you.”
“Madness—”
“You told me to think about what I want. Well I did. A lot. I want you, Ben. I love you. I never stopped loving you. I don’t think I could if I tried and I don’t want to. I’m done holding you at arms length, afraid of my own feelings. I don’t want to hold back anymore. I don’t want to be afraid. I want you to have all of me. Even if I hate not knowing what will happen.”
I step into her space, cradling her face in my hand. She leans into it as I stroke her cheek. “Let’s find out together.”
She nods. “Together.”
I lean down just as she rises on her tiptoes to meet me halfway. The kiss is slow and tender. Our mouths move together, perfectly in sync, like we were designed for each other. There is no urgency. We have the rest of our lives to do this.
Maddy pulls back, her hands still wrapped around my neck and asks, “Will you move back in?”
“Yes.”
“Today?”
I laugh leaning in to nip at the corner of her mouth. “Wow. You’re so into me. Yes, today. Most of my stuff is still here anyway.”
