The night ended in disaster.

I came home in tears. Liv had waited up, but I could barely relive the last hour of my life, mostly because I still didn’t believe it had actually happened.

My finger was still raw from where the deranged but obviously hurt woman had pried the re-gifted engagement ring from my hand.

I’d thought we’d had a connection; the night had almost been perfect. He’d liked me in high school; the animosity had all come from some unfortunate misunderstanding years and years ago. But that couldn’t make up for him lying to me now.

Really, he’d just used me. To get ahead in his career after his actual fiancée wizened up and left him. He was a selfish, lying bastard. I can’t believe I’d fallen for his tricks and allowed my emotions from all those years ago override my sensible side.

Pitifully, I sat in front of Liv with my head in my hands. I had lied to one of my favorite people, Matilda, for him. I had practically stolen the ring from his rightful fiancée and been reduced to the status of the other woman. I shuddered to think what Matilda would think when she heard about the whole dramatic episode. I’m sure his real fiancée’s hysterics at not being on the list had attracted some attention. I was so ashamed, embarrassed and utterly humiliated. Here I was, being caught again thinking he actually cared about me.

But, I had a plan. On Monday, I would go to work and confront him. I would demand my bonus because I had followed through on my part of the deal. If he refused, I would show him the naughty damming list and take it to HR. So what if he fired me? Liv and I would be fine; we’d find a way to get through it… I’d find some way to fix this.

* * *

The thought of seeing him again as the fateful day loomed closer filled my heart with so much sadness. The anniversary of my father’s death was also four days away, and the weight of the world felt like it was pushing hard against my chest, getting ready to crack my ribs and crush me into oblivion.

Liv had stayed with me practically all-night despite me telling her I was ok. Persistent and stubborn, she rubbed my back soothing me, and I revealed some, not all, of what happened. She said she would storm into the office and beat him up. Give him a piece of her mind. She said he was a sack of shit that deserved every slap that that woman would give him. Secretly, I felt I deserved to be slapped too. I was stupid.

Stupid not just because I’d fallen for the ruse. But because I’d realized I was in love.

Damn him.

I didn’t leave bed all weekend. Monday came and went, I wasn’t strong enough to go in, I still felt like I needed to recover, and even though the phone rang with several voicemails from Tommy Carver, I didn’t have the heart to listen to them.

Liv was an angel, always there with tea, ice-cream, and support. She looked at me with growing anxiety; she recognized my behavior well, this was the way our mother had behaved for all of last year. She held strong because she was Liv, and that’s what she did, but I could see the fear in her eyes. She thought she was about to lose another family member.

I gritted my teeth and threw back the duvet. I wasn’t going to do that to her. Or to myself. I wouldn’t let a man destroy me like this. I would do what I promised myself I would do; march into that office and demand to be given what was mine. Then I would never have to see him ever again. It would be over, and I’d be able to move on.

As I began to gather my clothes and get ready for work, I heard Liv’s raised voice downstairs.

“She doesn’t want to see you!”

I moved towards the top of the stairs so I could better hear.

“Listen, I just need to explain,” a man replied; Tommy’s voice.

“There’s nothing to explain. You’re a shitty human being, and my sister isn’t. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like that. There. It’s explained. Bye!”

“Is she here, inside?” he asked.

Confronting him here was just as good as the office, and I started down the stairs. I gathered myself for a moment, hidden from view by the wall in the foyer.

“I told you she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Look, Shae, if you can hear me, I’m so sorry. I had no idea Natalie would be there that night. I hadn’t heard from her in weeks; she threw the ring at me, it was supposed to be over,” he shouted.

Ready to fight my own battles, I came out from behind the wall. My clutch was still on the entrance table from the night before. Silently, I opened it and took out the list then handed it to him. Liv stood beside me, an ally, even though she didn’t know what I’d just given him.

“You’re a disgrace!” I said.

Before I could stop myself I slammed the door on his confused and vulnerable face, his gray eyes rimmed with red, prematurely ending the conversation. I’d had every intention to demand the bonus he’d promised, but one look at him made my traitorous heart ache. I knew I was in danger of hearing him out, on the verge of letting him have his say, and I couldn’t allow that. I had to be strong and nip it in the bud before I gave him another chance.

“If you just let me explain,” I heard his voice through the closed door. “Shae, I’m so sorry.”

I went back upstairs before Liv could see my tears.

* * *

The next morning, I mustered enough motivation to get out of bed, check the mail and begin my search for a new job. But in the mailbox was an old key to a Volvo, that derailed my plans. There was a note attached to it that said, “To: Liv.”

I frowned as I studied the small tag, the writing I believed was Tommy’s. Then went inside and called the neighbor.

“Hi, Mr. Grainger. This is Shae Reynolds from down the road. I’m calling to ask about the car?”

“Oh, hey, Shae. Yeah, sorry. I know I was saving it for you, but I’m afraid times are tough, and I got a better offer. A young guy, handsome chap in a BMW came and asked about it this morning. Gave me all the cash up front even though I told him I haven’t been able to start it for months.”

“You can’t sell it to him,” I said, indignant. “My Dad already paid for half of it.”

“Hun, I already gave that money back to your mom months ago. Didn’t she tell you?”

I sat down at the table, defeated and conflicted. I was overwhelmed by the gesture. But as much as I wanted to give Tommy a second chance, and believe what he had said about Natalie, his supposedly ex-fiancée, I didn’t want to get hurt again.

Besides, he’d given Liv a key to a broken, useless, car. I ignored the fact that this had been my plan too, but at least I had intended to give her more than just a key, in my imagination, there was usually a car in the deal too. My head spun with what to do so I did the best thing imaginable, I pushed it all to the side, ignored it, and stuck my head in the sand for a few days. My own mental sanity depended on it.

Liv, on break from school, followed me around anxiously. Looking for signs of breaking but I pinned an almost psychotic smile on my face and repeated countless times that I was OK and that we’d be fine.

I had to find a new job soon, but it would be impossible this close to the holidays, yet that didn’t stop me from scouring the newspapers, wanted ads, and local online job sites. I tentatively called Tiff to ask if I could have my final paycheck sent to the house.

She’d been understanding enough, overly sympathetic if I was honest. Word of the incident had obviously traveled far. News and gossip normally did in our small town, and this was no exception.

Later that day, I was sitting at the kitchen table, listlessly tracing an old cup ring with my finger when I heard a clang outside. All afternoon there’d been loud noises coming from what I assumed was the noisy neighbor down the street who ran a part-time handy-man company out of his house and garage.

I reluctantly stood up from the table and looked outside through our paned window. I couldn’t see anything. I grabbed my robe and stuffed my feet into my boots. My face was puffy and without makeup, and my hair was piled on top of my head, but I wasn’t even thinking about how I looked when I left the house.

Outside, I found three cars. My blue jeep, Tommy’s sleek silver BMW, and my neighbors old Volvo. The scratched “For Sale” was still written in a faded bingo marker on its back windshield. Tommy stood, bent over the open hood with a wrench, while snow fell around him.

“What on earth do you think you are doing?” I asked.

“It’s my second Secret Santa present,” he said with a shrug.

“I don't work for you anymore. Besides, I thought we weren’t revealing those until the Tuesday after Christmas?” I said, apprehensively. “Wait, you were my secret Santa?”

He nodded.

A thought occurred to me. “If the dress was from you, how did you know my size?”

“Cats out of the bag, I guess,” he said shyly. “Tiff told me after you borrowed her sweater.” He gave another shrug, and I took a step toward him. Though I was far from won over. I just wanted him gone, so I didn’t have to look at his handsome face anymore.

“Listen, this is a nice gesture, but you don’t have to do this. What you did was messed up, but it’s my own fault for getting involved. I should have known better.”

“Shae…”

I put up my hand and continued. “I’m serious, Tommy. Whatever was between us is over. You don’t have to worry about me seeing you at work anymore. You can get back to your engagement. Let’s just let it go. Please just leave, so we can both move on with our lives. We can pretend the last few weeks never happened. I won't even tell HR about that list I found on your desk.”

“Here’s the thing,” he said, “I can’t just let it go. None of it. Not you…not again. And I don’t think you want it to be over, either.”

I stared at him. He put down the wrench and grabbed a towel to wipe his hands. I wrapped my robe tighter around me to shield myself from the cold.

“You don’t know how sorry I am, Shae,” he said, his eyes imploring. “I’m sorry you had to find out the way you did about Natalie. But I swear to you it was over long before you even started at the firm. And that list… it all makes sense now, that night at my apartment, I didn’t understand what you were going on about, wanting me to put you on ‘my’ naughty list, but well I have a confession to make—”

“What, another confession? Another excuse? You can’t worm your way out of this one. I found it on your—”

“I didn’t write it, Shae. Rodney did.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you seriously trying to pass the blame onto someone else right now?”

“Shae, listen to me. I swear to you, on my father’s grave, I did not write that list. If I had don’t you think you would’ve been at the top of the list? Every day since you’ve started I’ve wanted to punish you in more ways than one for reigniting the fire in my heart…” He gave me a sheepish smile, but I wasn’t convinced and stared daggers at him.

“OK, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make light of the situation. But it’s the truth: Rodney wrote it. I think it was meant to be a joke, but I didn’t find it very funny and knew the women in the office wouldn’t either. I was still deciding on whether or not to take it to HR or deal with the matter myself... But listen, that’s not what is important here.” He paused.

“You are what’s important. I like you, Shae,” he said, stepping closer still. “I really like you. And even though we’ve been through a mess of misunderstandings—Natalie, especially, and this is no excuse, but it’s part of why I was so miserable at work—I’m pleading for a second chance. You’ve had me wrapped around your finger since the very first day I saw you reading in the library at school. I should’ve asked you out then, but I was far too scared to go after what I really wanted when I was that age. But I’ve grown up. I know what I want now and not afraid to say so. I want you, Shae. If you’ll have me…”

When I didn’t answer, he gestured to the car and continued, his words getting faster and faster as if he knew he was running out of time. “I know it will take a long time for you to forgive me, but I promise I won’t let you down again.” He smiled nervously.

“What did the car have to do with anything?” I said coldly, trying not to give him any sort of reaction that would make him think he’d won… at least not yet.

“I planned to win over your sister first so she would let me in the door to see you.”

“She’s even harder to convince than I am,” I said, slightly breathless. My ears stung and my toes ached in my boots. But there was another ache that was even more intense.

“I’m not so sure about that… You’re pretty hard to convince if this conversation is anything to go by.” I was about to respond when he interrupted. “Here, watch this,” he said excitedly.

Tommy walked back to the car and closed the hood. Then he jogged around the outside and opened the door. That car hadn’t been driven in over a year, and I could only assume he’d had it towed to the house while I’d been in the kitchen. I highly doubted it would start, but I indulged him.

He opened the door and climbed inside. He turned the key, and the engine roared to life. The radio was on, and from inside came the sounds of Winter Wonderland and the smooth voice of Dean Martin.

I’m sure it was just a coincidence, but it had been Dad’s favorite Christmas song. I was not usually one to believe in signs, but the song, whether it was a signal from beyond the grave or not, carried with it a message of forgiveness. I wanted to trust him. My heart was begging me to.

Tommy stepped out of the car and smiled, beckoning me forward. I walked over to him on the street.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice barely audible. “She'll love it.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, smiling warmly. His hand extended toward the tie of my robe. Suddenly, I felt embarrassed, and cold.

“I have to say, you look absolutely gorgeous.”

“What in this?”

“You would look fantastic in anything,” he breathed and pulled me closer. “Please forgive me, Shae? Give me another chance?”

I shivered, catching a whiff of his strong smell, lost in the swirl of his dark, cloudy eyes. Seeing my rattling teeth, he leaned forward and caressed a hand across my cheek. In a final moment of forgiveness, I put my arms around his thick, powerful chest and hugged him.

We stood like that, indulging in each other’s warmth and physicality for the best part of a minute. When we let go, Tommy looked down at me.

“Does that mean—?”

I kissed him before he could finish. It was better than I remembered and I lost myself for a dizzying moment.

“Yes,” I nodded, “You have one more chance.”

“It’s a Christmas Miracle!” he shouted, then picked me up and swung me around.

“You’re crazy,” I said laughing.

“I have one last present,” he said.

I looked up at him curiously, and he moved his large warm hands from around my waste up to my red, chilly cheeks and leaned forward.

“What? I don’t need anything more…”

“My heart. It’s yours. It always has been.”

I rose up on my tiptoes to meet him, and in an electric shock moment, we kissed again. The sounds of Winter Wonderland faded into the background. Snow started to fall onto our noses, and we melted into our embrace.

I smiled up at him.

Tommy Carver had given me back my love for winter, and the magic of Christmas.

I loved the sky—that endless white that bled seamlessly into the snow-covered ground. I’d loved the laughter and the cozy fires and the steam of hot chocolate rising up to meet happy faces.

I loved lips—chapped from smiling, dusted with crumbs from cookies. I loved the music and the bells and the slush that squished beneath your boots as you walked. And now, as I gazed into the stormy gray eyes of the boy from two desks over, I started to feel some of that warmth come back. For the first time in a year, I knew that, finally, everything was going to be ok.

“Merry Christmas, Shae,” he said.

“Merry Christmas,” I replied, taking him by the hand and leading him into the warmth of the house. “I think it's about time I gave you your present.”