Page 93 of Once Upon a Christmas Kiss

“Hmm.” His eyebrows furrow in thought as he stares out the window again. He meets my eyes when he says, “Well, I had a twin sister that was literally perfect at everything. And she was the nicest human being and philanthropist. So, yeah. I think sometimes I had to play the bad egg because I would’ve never succeeded as the good egg.”

My heart clenches, and I find myself feeling empathy for Sawyer.Again. This better not become a habit. “Eleanor was pretty perfect, wasn’t she?”

“She was. And I know they say it’s hard to remember the bad things after somebody passes, but I never had many complaints when she was alive. You know what they say—I just think she was too good for this earth.”

“Very true. She just was.”

Our eyes meet, and an unspoken understanding passes between us. It’s one of being friends or siblings with somebody who was so good deep inside, neither of us could measure up. Maybe Sawyer and I have always had a lot more in common than I ever realized, and right now, I feel myself leaning into him. Moving into his smell, his scent of cedar and tea tree oil. Longing to be closer to feel his warm skin.

Our gazes lock, and for once, it’s not because we’re in a stare down. I’ve never liked to admit it, but I could get lost in Sawyer’s deep green eyes, and I’m letting that happen right now.

I’m trying to fight my feelings for him, but it’s getting harder by the day. And right now, I almost don’t care. My body is aching for his closeness, and I—

“Can I get you both anything else?” Scarlett, the owner of the cafe, materializes at our table, yanking me back to reality.

Jeez. I hope she didn’t notice the way Sawyer and I were looking at each other. This small town likes to talk, and the last thing Sawyer needs is to get caught up in the rumor mill.

“I’m good, Scarlett, thank you. Delicious as always,” Sawyer says before glancing at me. “What about you, Dawson?”

It takes me a beat for my brain to find any words. “Yes, I’m all good, too. Thanks, Scarlett. It was wonderful.”

“Sure thing.” When Scarlett hands the bill to Sawyer, I add my credit card on top of Sawyer’s and say, “Split it in half, please,” making it clear that this isnota date.

When Scarlett walks away, I look back to the book, flipping through it to find the next note from Eleanor. I hold it up, still folded. “Looks like we have our next challenge.”

Sawyer lets out a groan. He points to the envelope, his voice quiet when he says, “Eleanor says we need to read this one in private.”

I turn it over to see her warning, written neatly on it.

What in the world does she have in store for us next?

* * *

Since we’re downtown, I go with Sawyer to pick up a few last-minute gifts for his friends and family. I already have my presents under the tree, but I’m enjoying helping him. Lately, everything we do together is fun.

When we get home, Maryann insists we sit down for dinner. It’s after that when we finally make our way to the attic for privacy. This time, nerves are getting the best of me as I unwrap the next nested present and slowly unfold the letter.

Dear Dawson and Sawyer,

If you’re reading this letter, I’m so very proud of both of you. It means that you got the book from the library, you got donations for the shelter, and you’re practicing your Nutcracker Suite performance. I hope you’re doing well, but I’ll just take that you’re doing it at all.

I bet none of it was easy. I should know—it’s what I did every year. But at the end, I felt whole again. Because, quite honestly, the holidays were never an easy thing for me. Even after my diagnosis, doing these traditions was important to me, maybe more important. You both were with me every step of the way, which made every minute of my life fuller and richer. Okay, well, maybe not every minute. I’m talking about your disgusting burps, Sawyer, and Dawson, that gum popping addiction you have. Regardless, I feel okay leaving this earth with no regrets except for one, although I shouldn’t call it regret because if I were to do it again, I’d do the same thing. So maybe it’s just something I would’ve done in a parallel universe.

There’s something I never told either of you. Last year, when I went to Nashville for that winter ballet training program, I fell for my teacher, and he fell for me. His name is Anders Dante McKay, and he’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met.

“Dante!” I cry out. “Our ballet teacher? But he said he didn’t have a nickname.”

Sawyer’s face twists. “In fairness, Anders is his first name, not a nickname. Ithasto be him—he’s from Nashville.” Sawyer goes wide-eyed. “Wow.”

It was love at first sight, and we spent time together outside of the program. We were clearly falling for each other, but I didn’t tell him about my diagnosis. But I had that book I made you both get from the library. I’m sure by now you realize it’s a collection of stories about real people and how they met their true loves after they were in possession of the book at Christmastime. Anders and my love story is not in the book. Maybe it should be, but it can’t be there. However, I want you to know it.

Anders is funny, charming, witty, and with just one small catch of my gaze, seems to understand everything about me in a way no one ever has. We knew from that moment we met on the dance floor that we were going to be inseparable, and we were, even after long, hard hours of practice. Adrenaline gave us the energy to take a walk around Nashville or go for a coffee break. Remember that grungy cafe we loved in college? We went there daily. Anders isn’t perfect, but he was definitely perfect for me, and I was perfect for him. At the end of the training program, he proposed to me, and I so desperately wanted to say yes. I didn’t though. I didn’t want to tie him to my fate, so I pushed him away. But I would’ve done anything to experience loving Anders wholly and fully. Instead, I told him no, and I didn’t tell him why. I lied and said I wasn’t ready, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. The truth was that I knew I had an expiration date, and I loved him too much to have him go through losing me. It was all more than I could take, so I ended things. But now I need your help. Please give Anders this letter. It explains everything. I know he’s going to be in Cherry Creek helping direct the Nutcracker performance you’re both in, so by now, you surely have met him. He needs to know that he’ll always be my one and only true love, and I won’t be his, and that’s okay. Since I only got one, I’m so glad it was him. I just couldn’t bring myself to have the “sick” conversation with him, and I selfishly wanted him to remember me as the vibrant, healthy dancer he met that one winter.

Tears in our eyes, Sawyer and I look at each other. I don’t have words for this moment, and it seems like neither does Sawyer. A moment that’s heart-splintering, but one where I see that I have the chance to find love and share my life with a partner—something Eleanor knew wasn’t in the cards for her.

“I’m so lucky,” I utter.

“Me too.” Sawyer stares into my eyes. “And we should stop wasting the precious moments we have here on this earth.” He runs a finger over my cheek, and electricity buzzes through me as I lean into him. Our lips are a breath apart, and my skin turns to gooseflesh. I want to kiss Sawyer. I want to know what it’s like to touch his lips.

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