“Blake’s confession Christmas Eve threw me for a loop. I know he said something similar after our shopping excursion, but I didn’t put much stock in it because I thought he was just caught up in the charade. When he said this is how he has always wanted us to be, it just felt different. I ended up falling asleep in his arms and slept better than I have in ages,” I tell Leigh over coffee.

“How was Christmas Day?”

“Great. Kyle opened his new clothes while Blake and I watched. Blake’s parents came over and we exchanged gifts. Then we ate all day until we were too stuffed to move. Blake convinced me to sleep on the couch with him again that night.”

“Don’t you think it’s time to move back to your bed—together?”

“No. I’m not ready for that. It’s hard enough not picturing him with her as it is. That would only make it worse.”

Leigh sighs and shakes her head at me. “Grace, I love you. But you are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. He’s trying to make it up to you. Either let him—or let him go. You’re only punishing yourself by living in limbo.”

Maybe she has a point.

“He’s taking me out tomorrow for New Year’s Eve. He asked me on an official date. Then on New Year’s Day, he and Kyle are leaving for their snowboarding trip.”

“New Year’s Eve, huh? That sounds like a good time to wipe the slate clean. Start over with a fresh new year. Give him the chance he’s been working for over the last few weeks.”

“Maybe.”

“You still haven’t told him everything. Have you?”

“Break is over. We need to get back to work.”

While I make my rounds in the unit, Leigh’s words return to me time and again. Can we begin again? Can we wipe away the past and move forward? Can I forgive him? These questions pop up again and again after I think I’ve already answered them. When I’m with him, I want to be with him. I want to work through the wrongs and get back to the rights. When I’m away from him, the doubts creep back in and nearly suffocate me.

That damn letter in my pantry also changes everything. Just when I think maybe we can have a future, the words on that innocuous looking paper mock me, stealing any happiness I think I’ve found. A new patient in the ICU takes my full attention, and I’m more than willing to spend the next couple of hours focused on his medical history and the doctor’s orders for his care. Concentrating on something else gives me a reprieve from my chaotic life.

By the time I head home, I’m physically and mentally exhausted. When I walk in, the house smells delicious—lasagna, garlic bread, and tiramisu are waiting for me somewhere. I’d know those scents anywhere. I follow my nose to the kitchen and find my husband at the stove. He has a hand towel draped over his shoulder as he mixes a salad with tongs.

Candles sit in the middle of the table that’s already set with plates, napkins, silverware, and the food. He looks over at me and smiles. He’s so handsome—even more so now than when we were love-struck teenagers. Years and experience have given him a more refined appearance. Age has given him fuller features. While I thought he was muscular when we were young, he’s bulked up even more as a man. His black hair has a few sprinkles of gray, giving him a sexy pepper with a little bit of salt look.

“I hope you’re hungry. I made enough food to feed a small army.”

“I’m starving, and it all smells delicious. Can I help with anything?”

“No, babe, I have it all under control. Have a seat. I’ll open the wine, and we can eat.”

My heart melts and hurts at the same time. He’s enjoying spoiling me, and I’m enjoying being spoiled by him. For now, I decide to thoroughly enjoy my night and my time with my husband. Worry and stress haven’t resulted in anything good, so maybe just going with the flow will.

Dinner is absolutely delicious, and the company is as well. We laugh, we talk, we reminisce, and every second of it is perfect—even when it’s awkward, even when it’s uncomfortable, even when it feels like so much has changed between us. It’s perfect because it’s real.

When we finish eating and drinking all the wine, we move to the sink and clean the dishes together. Working side by side, we have the kitchen spotless in no time. Kyle is out with his girlfriend, so Blake and I have the house to ourselves.

And I have butterflies in my chest…and in my stomach…and in other unexpected places.

Blake takes my hand in his and leads me to the couch. He sits, pulls me down beside him, and wraps his arm around me. I snuggle into him, craving the contact and safety of his embrace, and he grabs the remote to turn on the TV.

“Relax, Grace. I’m not pushing you for anything. I just want to spend time with you. I don’t even care what we do—watching TV or going out on the town doesn’t make a difference. As long as we’re together.”

I want to believe him. So badly.

“Blake! Get out here right now!” A female voice screams from outside, in my front yard. A young female voice. Blake freezes—his whole body goes rigid at once. He’s as shocked as I am. He doesn’t move a muscle as he stares at the front door.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” He finally stands and strides to the door then stops and turns to me. “I’m so sorry, Grace. For this—her showing up here. For everything. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

He jerks the door open and steps onto the front porch. I fly up off the couch and stomp up behind him. She’s at my home—her ass is mine.

“Tammy, what the fuck are you doing here?” Blake demands.

She staggers, barely in control of her faculties. Obviously drunk. Her crookedly parked car, half over the curb into my yard, is more proof she’s in no shape to be out driving. She’s standing on my front lawn making a fool of herself while my neighbors watch, peeking out their windows.

“I’m here because she is trying to take you away from me. I love you, Blake. Leave her. I miss you so much,” she begs loudly while slurring her words. “That old bitch doesn’t love you or appreciate you. I do. I’m the one you love and the one you want.”

“No, actually, you’re not. I love my wife, Tammy. I’ve always loved her, and I will love her until the day I die. I asked you to stay away, but you came here and disrespected my family. You will leave here and never come back. If you do, I’ll have to call the police and report you. I’ll call you a cab and a tow truck this time—you’re not driving away from here drunk like this. But this is the only time I’ll do this. Next time, I’ll let the police handle you.” Blake turns to grab his phone from inside, and Tammy turns her anger toward me.

“You! You did this. You and your demands on him. He doesn’t love you—he loves me. Why don’t you just let him go and save some of your dignity? You’re pathetic.”

“That’s funny. I’m not the one who’s drunk, standing in the yard of a married man’s house, begging him to leave his wife. From where I stand, you’re the pathetic one. I’m the one he comes home to, the one he holds at night when he sleeps, the one he vowed to spend his life with. I’m his wife. You’re no one to him.”

The verbal slap my words delivers stings her exactly as I intended. She’s stunned speechless for a few seconds. Then she screams like a banshee and charges toward me. Her hands are curled into fists, and I have no doubt she intends to take our exchange to the next level. That’s fine with me, though, since I’d like nothing better myself.

When she gets close enough, she rears her fist back and prepares to punch me, but I stop her cold with a hard jab to her nose. I feel her flesh give way under my knuckles and hear the crunch of bone as it breaks. She flies backward, landing in the grass on her back. Blood streams out of her nose and smears across her cheek. Then the cold night air is once again filled with her shrieks.

“You broke my fucking nose! You bitch! I’ll kill you!” Her words are garbled from the instant swelling and her hand covering most of her face.

“You stay the fuck away from her!” Blake yells, stepping in front of me. “So help me God, Tammy.”

Flashing lights and sirens fill the street on my block. My next-door neighbor steps outside and points her finger at Tammy. “It was her, officers. She attacked my neighbor. Drove over here drunk and was yelling like a crazy woman. Woke up half the neighborhood.”

The police take our statements and perform a sobriety test on Tammy. After she blows into the Breathalyzer, the officer puts the handcuffs on her and arrests her—in my front yard. Her car that Blake offered to have towed is now being impounded, and she’s facing multiple charges.

Blake watches the entire scene unfold with a detached expression on his face, but I feel the anger building just beneath his surface. When the free circus show is over, we retreat to the privacy of our home, but his pent-up frustration won’t let him relax. He paces back and forth across the length of our living room, running his fingers through his hair and ranting to himself.

I sit on the couch and smile to myself, reliving the very second when I punched her in the face as hard as I could. That moment couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Why are you smiling?” Blake stops mid-stride and stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind.

“Because I got to break her nose,” I reply. “And she got arrested, and they impounded her car. All in all, it has been a good night.”

Blake is silent while he contemplates my words, then throws his head back in laughter. “You never cease to amaze me. Here I am, convinced she just ruined any chance I have of getting you back, and you’re enjoying yourself. If it’ll help you forgive me and love me again, I’ll let you break my nose. Hell, you can break my kneecaps if that’s what it takes.”

He kneels in front of me and wedges himself between my legs. His hands cup my face. “I’m so sorry, babe. I’m sorry for giving up on us. I’m sorry for not being the husband and father I should’ve been. I’m sorry for hurting you and our marriage. I wish I could take back every second of it.”

I lift my hand to place it on his cheek but wince in pain when I move my fingers. He looks down at my swollen knuckles with concern in his eyes. “Shit, babe. Look what you did to your hand. Do we need to go get it X-rayed?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “I’ll just ice it, and it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

He goes to the kitchen and comes back with a bag of ice and gently places it on my swollen hand. Then he resumes his place wedged between my knees. “What else can I do to make us right again? Name it, and I’ll do it.”

“We just have to give ourselves time, Blake. That’s all we can do.”

He leans in and kisses my lips. I’m overtly aware of everything I feel at this second. Earlier today, I thought his intimate touch would repulse me. But the feel of his full lips against mine makes my senses detonate like pyrotechnics. His tongue caresses the part in my lips, and I yield to him, giving him full access. His arms wrap around me and pull me toward him. Our bodies are crushed together, his mouth devours mine, and his tongue caresses mine with each stroke. My body temperature rises. With every passing second, my resolve to keep my distance from him wanes.

My legs wrap around his waist, and I hold him even closer to me. The friction of our movements sends bolts of electricity through my every nerve. I didn’t think I would—or could—want him again. But I do. Every cell inside me screams for the pleasure only he can give. For the one man who has always owned my heart. Even when he broke it, he still owned all the shattered pieces.

The sound of a car door slamming shut pulls us from our impromptu make-out session. Blake pulls back and stares deep into my eyes, his love for me swimming in the dark pools of his chocolate-brown eyes. “Kyle is staying at Alan’s house tomorrow night while we’re out on our date. Maybe we can pick this back up then. If not, it’ll still be the best night of my life, because I’ll be with you.”

Before I can reply, Kyle walks through the door from the garage into the kitchen. Blake takes his seat on the couch beside me, and we cuddle together while watching a movie. But my mind is not on the TV at all. We chat with Kyle for a few minutes before he retreats to his room. Then Blake and I resume our new ritual of changing into our pajamas and falling asleep together on the couch. Before I drift off to sleep, I picture us spooning in our bed tomorrow night.

---

It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m in my bedroom getting ready for my date tonight. I can’t shake the nervous energy that has settled in my stomach. I feel like I’m going on my first date. Blake has kept the plans a complete secret—he only said to dress up and wear my sexy heels. With my makeup on lock, my hair styled, and my shimmery little black dress on, I slide my feet into my strappy heels and head downstairs to find Blake.

He’s waiting in the den and stands when he hears my heels click across the hardwood floor. His eyes fly wide open, and his jaw drops. Maybe I haven’t paid enough attention to my appearance lately. Maybe if I’d seen this kind of reaction from him more often, I wouldn’t have become so complacent in our relationship.

“Wow. You are so beautiful you take my breath away.” The hunger in his eyes is palpable. He circles me like a predator cornering its prey. “I don’t deserve you, I fully admit that. But I will be a man you’ll be proud to call your husband. I will show you that one enormous mistake doesn’t define me. If you’ll stay with me, you will never regret it.”

He senses that I can’t answer that lingering question just yet and gives a single nod of understanding. He slips my coat off the rack and wraps it around my shoulders from behind me. “Grace, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me last night, but now I’m sure of it. You’ve lost weight. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay. I don’t think I’ve lost that much.”

He presses his forehead against the back of my head. “This is all my fault. I’ve caused you so much stress and pain. I can’t tell you how much I regret every second of the time I was with her. I’ll tell you I’m sorry every day for the rest of our lives.”

I turn to face him with Leigh’s advice in the forefront of my mind. “Blake, I don’t want that—not for you and not for me. The best thing we can do now is move forward one step and one day at a time. We can’t do that constantly looking behind us. I just can’t commit fully yet—it was only a few weeks ago that you were sure you wanted someone else. I haven’t had enough time to recover from that. We’ve both made mistakes and taken each other for granted, but I do believe you regret what happened.”

He pulls me into his arms and holds me tight against him. “I understand, babe. We’ll start over—dating, getting to know each other again, spending time together. And soon, you’ll see how much I love you and don’t want to lose you. And you’ll remember how much you love me, too.”

He helps me into my coat, and we walk out to the car. “You never told me where we’re going.”

“I know.” He waggles his eyebrows. “It’s a surprise.”

Our small Vermont town doesn’t have a lot of places that could hold a surprise, so I have a feeling we’re headed out of town for the night. He heads north toward the mountains, and I look over at him, confused. “Aren’t you and Kyle headed this way in the morning?”

“Yeah, but we have plenty of time tonight. I don’t mind no sleep tonight if you don’t mind sleeping in the car on the way home.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

He reaches over and takes my hand in his. “I should’ve asked first. I keep forgetting you’re going in on your day off tomorrow. Maybe I should reschedule our plans tonight so you can rest. You’ve been too stressed as it is.”

“No, don’t you dare. I’ve been looking forward to tonight. I’ve worked on fewer hours of sleep than I’ll get tonight. I’ll rest when I get off work tomorrow night. You and Kyle will be away, and I won’t have anything else to do.”

“If you’re sure…” He doesn’t sound convinced.

“I’m positive.”

We arrive about thirty minutes later, and I’m in complete awe. I never knew this place existed, and I wonder how many years we’ve missed out on experiencing the magic. We’re at the North Pole—recreated—in this small mountain town. A huge, beautiful tree sits in the middle of the town square that’s cordoned off from traffic. The roads leading into town have been cleared, but the streets comprising the square haven’t, so the snow is much deeper, giving the city a surreal feeling.

Elves dart back and forth from a small house to the center of the square, leaving wrapped presents under the tree, but with “Happy New Year” wrapping paper instead of Christmas. A horse-drawn sleigh stops near the tree, letting people on and off before making another pass around the town center. A train whistle blows, drawing my eyes to the huge steam locomotive that’s every bit as festive as the rest of the town.

“Blake, this place is perfect. I love it.”

“Want to walk around and window-shop before we board the train?” He produces two North Pole All-Access Pass train tickets with a shy smile. “I thought about the traditional New Year’s Eve parties—dancing, drinking, elbowing through hordes of people. But I decided against that. I’d rather have a night focused on you.”

“I’d love to walk around for a bit. I can’t promise to only window-shop, though. There may be something here I can’t live without.”

He gets out and rushes around to open my door and help me out of the car. All this attention is addictive—but I think that’s part of his plan. To make me realize he’s the only thing I can’t live without. We walk hand in hand down the covered sidewalk, admiring the window scenes and festive decorations.

An elderly man steps out of one of the shops and smiles warmly at us. “Would you like some hot apple cider to warm you?”

“Sure, sounds delicious.” We walk in his shop behind him, and I’m immediately glad we did. The old, nostalgic shop has so many unique items, I can’t stop myself from walking around the store to admire everything. There are so many hidden treasures in here, we may end up taking the whole store home.

Then one simple display catches my eye while the shop owner and Blake chat. I walk to it and take it all in. The cover of the book on display reads: “How to Heal Your Marriage.” I take the book out of the clear package and open it to the first page. The advice, displayed in huge font, is: You will begin to heal when you let go of past hurts.

I turn the page and find a list of numbers with blank lines beside each one. At the top of the page, the instructions read: Make a list of all the ways your spouse has hurt you. Think hard, go through every memory, and don’t leave anything out.

My eyes scroll down the numbers, mentally ticking off each hurt, regret, and angry moment that comes to mind. When I reach the bottom of the page, I inhale sharply and grip the book tighter.

Now, tear this page out, throw it away, and never return to these memories again.

Blake moves up beside me with a cup of apple cider. “Did you find something you want?”

“No.” I shake my head. “But I did find a bunch of things I want to throw away, though.”

His brows draw down, and he tilts his head, questioning my meaning. I take the cup from his hand and offer him the book. He reads the first two pages, and understanding lights in his eyes.

“You’re sure? You’re ready?”

“I’m still scared. But we’re not promised to tomorrow, and we’ve let too many yesterdays pass us by. Today is all we have.”

“You won’t regret it. I promise, Grace.”

The train whistle blows again, alerting us it’s time to go. We thank the man for the drinks and rush to the platform. The decorations in the main car are amazing. I feel like we stepped into a world of glamour and glitz. They spared no expense in preparing the train to ring in the new year.

We move to the next car, and the smell of food immediately hits us. After filling our plates with finger foods and grabbing a flute of champagne each, we continue our exploration of the remaining cars. The last one we can enter is the one I want to spend the entire ride inside. The top is clear, giving us an unobstructed view of the night sky and falling snow. It’s beautiful and magical.

We stay in the car alone until the train reaches full speed, then Blake convinces me to rejoin the party car. The music is fast and loud when we enter. The beat thumps in my ears and chest until my feet refuse to remain still. We begin dancing, moving closer and closer, until we’re grinding on each other in a heated rhythm. Everyone around us disappears, and only Blake and I exist.

The song turns slow and melodic. Bodies join two by two, and the car darkens. The overhead string lights sparkle like starlight shimmering in the black sky. I wrap my arms around his neck, his go around my waist, and we meld together, moving as one. His lips find my neck and leave a trail of white-hot kisses from the hollow of my shoulder to the lobe of my ear. Shivers race up and down my spine, extending out to my arm as goose bumps.

Putty. I’m putty in this man’s hands.

I love the train. I love the thought he put into this surprise. I love how we’ve overcome obstacles and made each other a priority again.

But right now, I wish we were home alone.

His mouth finds mine, and he claims it, staking his territory with every caress of his tongue. The slow burn ignites into a raging inferno, consuming us both to the point we nearly lose all self-control on the dance floor. When the song ends, we break our kiss, but our faces remain a breath apart.

Midnight feels like a lifetime away.