The snow from a few days ago was mostly gone, leaving only patches of dirty, gray ice here and there. The warmer weather reminded me of Christmases in Georgia as a kid. We never had a white Christmas, but it didn’t dampen our holiday spirit. We’d still cover the house in twinkling lights and spend an entire afternoon looking for the perfect tree.

I haven’t done any of that since moving to New York. Decorating for myself felt like a chore. Usually, I wasn’t home for Christmas anyway. I was either visiting my mother or traveling with friends.

But due to my recent public image problem, my agent and the PR specialist he hired decided it would be best to stay in town this year. I didn’t argue because I was planning on spending the holiday in Emily’s bed.

But that was over a month ago.

Now, I was just hoping she opened the door and talked to me.

“Cooper?” She sounded surprised and a little annoyed to see me on her porch at nine on Christmas Eve. She didn’t open the door all the way and blocked the opening with her body.

This wasn’t going well.

“I thought we agreed to dinner on Monday? What are you doing here?” The door inched closed a little more.

“Tony called me. He told me there was an emergency at the shelter and you had to stay late.”

Another inch. “And? That kind of thing happens all the time. It still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“He said you wouldn’t be able to pick up your Christmas tamales before the bodega closed tonight, so I did it for you.” I held up the plastic sack and hoped for the best.

She looked at the bag and back to me. The door opened a little, and she stepped forward.

Progress.

“Thank you. I was disappointed when I couldn’t get there. Next year, I’m buying them a day early.”

“I was happy to do it. I even picked up some pork tamales for myself.”

She took the bag and I thought she was going to invite me in, but we were back to a stalemate. We stood there on her front porch in awkward silence. There was so much left unsaid.

“I read in the paper that you finalized your contract. Renewed for another two years,” she said. “Congratulations.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

She cocked a half smile. “Probably not. I’m glad it all worked out for you.”

“I have a gift for you. I didn’t want to wait until Monday to give it to you.”

“Cooper. I wish you hadn’t,” she said and looked away. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“When I was in Portland over Thanksgiving, my sister made me go to an art fair, and I saw something that was perfect for you. I know things aren’t great between us right now, but this is for you.”

I pulled the plain white box out of my pocket and waited. Reluctantly, she took it and opened the package. I held my breath as she stared down at the caged heart made out of silver wire. There was a small rectangular tag with “Sei sempre nel mio cuore” etched on the surface.

“This is lovely, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable accepting jewelry from you. I know technically we’re still dating, but I thought now that your contract was signed it would be better if we kept things professional.”

She handed me the box and stepped back inside. I was waiting for her to close the door in my face, but she stopped.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad we met. These last two months have been…” She stumbled over what to say.

I stepped forward and touched her cheek. “Don’t. I know I messed this up, but I want to make it up to you. Take the gift. It’s yours.”

I took the large charm out of the box and pushed the small clasp at the top. The heart opened, and I held it out in my palm.

“I had it made to hold your lucky stone, the one from your parent’s lake house. It fits right here.” I pointed to the open half of the cage. “I know how much it means to you. Sei sempre nel mio cuore—you're always in my heart.”

She reached out and touched the cage.

“You had this made for me?”

“I want to make sure you always have it close—always have them close.”

She looked up, her eyes shining with unshed tears. I could see the warring emotions playing out across her face. She wore her heart on her sleeve, there for everyone to see. And with that single look, she broke me. I couldn’t let her go. She needed me as much as I needed her.

I ran my thumb along her cheek, sweeping away an errant tear, and kissed the spot gently. “Don’t cry, pretty girl.”

“Come in,” she said with a sniff.

“Are you sure?”

Inside, I was doing a victory lap, but I kept my features blank.

She bit her lip and looked down at the present. “This doesn't change anything. This isn’t us getting back together. I’m still not sure this is going to work between us.”

“But—”

“No buts.” She leaned forward and kissed my lips, softly. “It’s Christmas Eve. You’re by yourself. I’m by myself. And I’d really like the company.”

She pushed the door open all the way and strolled back inside.

A little voice in the back of my mind told me to wait. Something was off. She mentioned being alone. It didn’t sound like she was offering to rebuild our broken relationship.

She paused at the bottom of the stairs, setting the bag of tamales and the box with her gift on a table, and then looked over her shoulder. “Something wrong?”

“I think we should talk about what happened at your office.”

“There’s a lot we need to talk about, but not tonight.”

That voice in the back of my head was full on General Ackbar screaming, “It’s a trap!” But the second she tugged the tie holding her robe closed and let it slide to the floor, revealing every glorious inch of her perfect body, I told that fish to shut the fuck up and followed her upstairs.