I’d like to say that after five years, I have come to terms with Holly leaving me at the altar. But I can’t. I never blamed her. She had every right to think about her future and what she wanted out of life. When I found out she opened a children’s center, I couldn’t have been less surprised. She’s the motherly type. What did surprise me was finding out she’s not married with kids of her own. As soon as I read the article about her online, I hopped on a train and came right here. I had to see her for myself.

I rush over to her, noticing April, Holly’s best friend for as long as I’ve known her, holding her up. Have I startled Holly that much by coming here, or is she sick? I reach for her elbow. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes scan my face as if she can’t believe what she’s seeing. “Nick?”

I smile. “You remembered,” I joke, taking in how much she doesn’t seem to have changed. Her dark hair is still long, and her blue eyes still remind me of sapphires.

“Why...? How...? What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?”

A little girl with strawberry-blonde curls tugs on Holly’s dress. “Your cheeks are red. Is he your boyfriend?” she asks. “Do you love him?”

I stifle a laugh. The little girl isn’t wrong about the color of Holly’s cheeks.

“Erica,” Holly says, “why don’t you finish your gingerbread house, okay? I need to talk to this man in private.” Holly’s gaze lowers to my hand, which is still on her elbow. I remove it and stand up straight. “My office is right over there.” She points to the back corner.

April eyes me suspiciously and then turns to Holly. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Holly shakes her head. “No, but I need Lemar to go to the costume shop for me. They already have my credit card info, and the costume is being held under my name.”

“I’m on it,” a tall man with dark skin—I’m guessing Lemar—says from behind her, making her jump.

I resist the urge to reach for her again.

Holly doesn’t even look at me before starting for her office. I follow, wondering if coming here was a bad idea. After she left me, I tried calling her several times, but she never answered my calls. Eventually, I stopped trying, assuming she was afraid she’d give in and come back to me if we talked things through. No doubt she would have been miserable compromising on the “no children” front. But after finding out she never had kids of her own, I had to see her. I had to know if the children’s center fulfilled that need in her life. But more so, I had to know if she’d be willing to give us another try.

“Have a seat,” Holly says as we enter her office. She walks around the desk, and I can’t help wondering if it’s to put some distance between us.

“Thanks.” I sit down in the faux leather chair.

She doesn’t sit. Instead, she paces in front of the window on the back wall. “What brings you back to Sapphire Springs, Nick?”

You, I want to say. “I had some time off for the holidays. My parents are still here, so I thought I’d come visit.”

She’s facing the window, avoiding my gaze. Why is it so hard for her to look at me? I’m not the one who called things off. “But why are you here?” she asks.

I lean forward, resting my arms on my knees. “Should I not have come?”

She shrugs. “Depends, I guess.”

“On what?”

She finally turns around. “On how much you still hate me.” Her voice quivers with the threat of tears.

I stand up and start for her, but she holds up her hand to stop me.

“Don’t. Please.” Her eyes fill with tears, but she keeps them from spilling.

“I could never hate you.” How could she even think that?

“You have every right to. I left. I should have talked to you about it sooner.” She blinks rapidly and inhales a deep breath. “I could have handled it so much better, but I was a stupid twenty-three-year old at the time.”

“No,” I say. “I was the stupid one. I didn’t think about the future, and I should have.” If I had, I would have known she couldn’t go through with marrying me. She would have resented me in the end, and we would have gotten divorced. Somehow, never having her as my wife is better than her being my ex-wife.

“I’m still sorry,” she says.

I know she is. “I am, too.”

She shakes her head and swipes at a stray tear on her cheek. “So what are you doing here?”

Telling her the truth seems like too much for her to handle at the moment. My parents do still live in town, so that wasn’t a lie, but I didn’t come back to Sapphire Springs for them. I came for Holly, and that’s too much pressure for her to deal with right now.

“I couldn’t come to town without looking you up. I wanted to see how you’re doing.” I hold my hands out, gesturing to her office. “This place is incredible. I bet the kids adore you.”

“It’s mutual,” she says.

I nod, and then I motion to her left hand, which is hugging her midsection. “You’re not married. I was sure you would be.”

She drops her arm to her side. “This place keeps me busy. I haven’t really had time to find anyone to settle down with.” She immediately looks away, her tell that she’s lying.

“Do you have plans for Christmas?” I ask, figuring it’s a safer topic.

“Our Christmas party is here tomorrow evening. I have to play Mrs. Claus because our Santa has the flu.”

I’m not surprised her Christmas plans revolve around these kids.

“Knock, knock,” Lemar says, rapping his knuckles on the partially closed door and peeking his head inside the office.

“Come in,” Holly says, sounding a little too eager to talk to anyone who isn’t me.

Lemar carries a black garment bag and places it on Holly’s desk. “I picked up a makeup kit, too, so we can make you look old and wrinkly.” He winks at her.

“Thanks.” Holly looks around him, probably trying to make sure the kids are still occupied and no one can overhear the conversation. “Any luck tracking down a new Santa for us?”

“None,” Lemar says. “Everyone has plans already.”

An idea pops into my head. A way for me to show Holly I’m still here for her despite what we’ve been through. “I’m free,” I say.

Lemar sizes me up. “That could work. You’re the right height for the costume, and the kids have only seen you briefly once.”

“Absolutely not,” Holly says. “Nick doesn’t even like children.

“I never said I didn’t like kids,” I say, wondering where she got that idea. Not wanting kids of my own doesn’t mean I dislike kids in general. I have a niece and nephew I adore.

“Still, you have plans with your parents. I’ve got this covered,” Holly says, reaching for the garment bag. “I’ll watch some YouTube videos on makeup and have my wrinkles perfected by tomorrow evening. No sweat.”

“Holly, Holly!” The strawberry-blonde comes rushing into the office with April trailing behind her.

“Erica, we don’t barge into people’s offices,” April tells her, grabbing the little girl’s hand.

“It’s okay,” Holly says, walking over to Erica. “What is it, sweetie?”

“I finished my letter to Santa.” She holds up a piece of paper.

“That’s great. I’ll put it in the mail right away.” Holly takes the letter.

Erica throws her arms around Holly’s waist. “Will you get your picture taken with Santa with me tomorrow?”

Holly’s face goes completely pale, knowing she can’t play Mrs. Claus and appear in pictures with the kids. “Oh, um...”

“Of course she will,” I say, and Erica smiles up at Holly.

“I love you, Holly!” Erica says before rushing out. April runs after her.

Holly looks like she’s going to either murder me for making that promise to Erica or bawl her eyes out at the prospect of disappointing the little girl.

I shut the office door. “I’ll be your Santa Claus so you can spend the evening taking pictures with the kids,” I say.

Holly shakes her head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not. I’m offering, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

“It’s him or me,” Lemar says. “If Santa doesn’t show up, these kids will be heartbroken. And they’re going to recognize me in that suit for sure.”

“He’s right,” I tell her. I step toward Holly. “Let me help. I’d really like to.”

“You know what?” Lemar says. “I’m in charge of hiring for events, so on behalf of the Sapphire Springs Children’s Community Center, welcome aboard.” He extends his hand to me, and I shake it.

Holly looks green, and not in a Christmasy sort of way.