Chapter 12
The next morning, Miles intercepted Lili when she walked through the door. He arrived at the clinic early, paced his office for twenty minutes, then positioned himself near the front desk where he would see her come in.
“Got a minute?”
She stopped, one hand on the door handle. “Sure. What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk about Denver.”
Her shoulders tensed. She moved past him toward the break room. He followed. She set her bag on the table, pulled off her coat, and reached for a hanger.
He put his hand to his nape and ducked his head. “Have you made a decision?”
Then she stopped, coat half on the hanger, and turned back to him. Her eyes softened at the corners. She appeared hopeful. Or he misread her expression.
“Not yet.”
“The deadline’s Monday.”
“Yes.” Her voice went up, and she leaned in.
“You should accept it.”
Her eyes rounded, and her mouth formed a startled O. She finished hanging the coat. When she faced him again, she schooled her expression to neutral. “Should I?”
“Emergency Department at a major hospital, better salary, better benefits, real career advancement. You’d be crazy to pass it up.”
She picked up her bag from the counter and set it down again. “Maybe I am crazy.”
“You’re not in the least. You’re practical. This is the logical choice, and you know it.”
“For my career.”
He held her gaze. “Yes. For your career. Lili, you’re too talented to stay in a small-town clinic long-term. You belong in a trauma center where you can make a difference.”
She cut her eyes at him. “I don’t make a difference here? Scott Finley would disagree.”
“Of course you do. But Denver offers you so much more. Better cases, better resources, room to grow. No contest.” He pressed on, even though every part of him wanted to beg her to stay.
She was quiet for a moment, studying his face like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Then she released the counter and crossed her arms. “Listen, Miles...”
“Yes?”
“Yesterday, when I went to your office to talk to you about the offer, I saw you with Sarah.”
He blinked. “Okay. And?”
“You hugged her. Kissed her cheek.” She paused. “She was wearing an engagement ring.”
Understanding clicked. Was that what was behind yesterday’s weirdness?
“Sarah’s getting married to Ted Fisher. He’s the head pharmacist at the hospital. She came to tell me before I heard it around town. We’re just friends. That’s all.”
“Oh, so you’re not—”
“Not getting back together with Sarah. No.” He met her eyes. “That ended years ago.”
She nodded, her shoulders dropping. She tilted her head, her brow furrowing. “Then I don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Why you’re pushing me toward Denver. If you’re not interested in Sarah, why do you want me to leave?” She stepped closer.
“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to have the career you deserve.”
“Those sound like the same thing.”
“They’re not. This is about what’s best for you.”
“And you think Denver is what’s best.”
“I know it is.” He gentled his voice. “Lili, you deserve more than what I can offer here. Better opportunities. More challenging work, money, a real future.”
She flinched. “A future.”
“Yes. Denver can give you that.”
“And Kringle can’t.” It wasn’t a question.
He ran a hand through his hair and forced himself to go on. He was doing this for her. He couldn’t be selfish and beg her to stay. “This was always meant to be temporary until you figured out your next step. Denver is that next step.”
She stared down at her hands, then back up at him. “So there’s nothing here worth staying for.”
Tell her. That you want her to stay. Not for the job, for you.
“I think you need to do what’s best for you.”
She was quiet for a long moment. Then she straightened, her expression smoothing into something calm and distant. “You’re right.”
“I am?”
“You’re right. Denver is the smart choice. The logical choice.” Her voice was steady now, almost clinical. “I’d be foolish to pass it up.”
This was what he wanted. What he’d been arguing for. So why did it feel like a fist closing around his heart? “So you’ll take it?”
“I’ll email them tonight to accept.”
“Tonight? Why wait?”
“You know what? I’ll do it right now.” She pulled out her phone.
Yikes. Why had he pushed so hard? “You don’t have to do it now.”
“You said yourself there’s nothing to think about.”
“Lili, I didn’t mean—”
“Thank you, Miles.” She stared at him, her eyes shiny but her voice controlled. “For the job. For being honest about what I should do. For not letting me make a mistake.”
Brenda’s voice echoed from the front. “Dr. Ellis? Your first appointment just arrived.”
Phone in hand, Lili walked out.
Miles stood alone in the break room, staring at the empty doorway. His patient was waiting. He needed to move.
But his feet wouldn’t go.
He’d done exactly what he set out to do: convinced her to take the job in Denver for her own sake. But it felt like he had just destroyed the best thing that ever happened to him.
* * *
At five, Lili locked the supply cabinet and tried not to think about the email she sent to Denver.
I am pleased to accept...
The rest of the afternoon with Miles had been excruciating. Professional. Distant. Painful. Now she must spend the evening with him at the local hospital, passing out presents to children and pretending everything was fine.
A knock on the break room door. Miles appeared holding a garment bag. “Marie dropped off the costumes.”
“Thanks.”
He hesitated. “You don’t have to do this. I can call Nina to rope her into it and—”
“I’m going.” She took the elf costume from him. “I’m a woman of my word.”
Something flickered in his expression, but he said nothing.
She changed in the bathroom. The green outfit fit snugly, with white trim at the collar and hem.
Candy cane-striped tights. An elf hat with a bell on the end that jingled when she moved.
When she came outside, Miles was waiting by his truck, wearing the full Santa suit. Red velvet, black boots, the works.
“Ready?” He smiled.
“Ready.”
They drove to the hospital in silence. Christmas music played on the radio, cheerful songs about joy and togetherness that made her want to throw herself out of the moving vehicle.
“About this morning,” Miles said.
“You don’t have to—”
“I do. I wasn’t trying to push you away. I just want you to have every opportunity.”
“I know. You made that very clear.” Her throat tightened.
More silence. She stared out the window at the passing Christmas lights. Tomorrow she’d start planning her exit from Kringle.
From Miles.
They pulled into the hospital parking lot. He killed the engine but didn’t move.
“I’ll miss you.”
The words landed like stones in her chest. “Miles—”
“Come on. We’re late.” He climbed out.
He escorted her through the staff entrance to the children’s wing. The hallway smelled like antiseptic and cinnamon. Paper snowflakes hung from the ceiling. A tree stood in the corner of the nurses’ station, with presents underneath.
Marie appeared in her reindeer scrubs. “There you are. The kids are so excited.” She helped Miles with his beard and adjusted Lili’s hat. “We have eight tonight. Six are in the common room. Two are in isolation. We’ll bring you to them last.”
“What’s the age range?” Lili asked.
“Four to fourteen. The older ones know Santa isn’t real, but they play along for the little ones.”
They entered the common room. Kids sat in wheelchairs. Parents hovered nearby. A few siblings were visiting.
The moment Miles appeared, a little girl shrieked. “Santa!”
The room erupted. Kids called out, waving, a few of the younger ones looking scared of this big bearded man in red.
Miles sat down on the floor, made himself smaller, less intimidating. “Ho ho ho. Merry Christmas, everyone.”
He was so natural with the children. So kind.
She moved through the room with her bag of candy canes, stopping to talk to each child. A boy in a wheelchair told her about his favorite Christmas movie. A bald girl asked if she was a real elf.
“The realest,” Lili said. “I came all the way from the North Pole.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Did what hurt?”
“When Santa’s sleigh crashed and you had to walk here.”
Lili bit back a laugh. “No crash. We took an elf portal.”
“Cool.”
One by one, kids came to sit with Santa, tell him their wishes, get their photo taken, and receive a small wrapped gift from the donation pile.
Lili watched Miles with each one. The way he listened like their wishes were the most important thing in the world. The way he made them laugh. How he comforted a little boy who started crying while his mother rubbed his back from where she sat beside the wheelchair.
“I want to go home.” Tears rolled down the boy's face.
“I know you do, sweetheart,” his mother said, her voice tired but patient. She looked at Miles. “He's been asking all day.”
“Being in the hospital is hard, especially at Christmas,” Miles said. “But you know what? You've got your mom right here with you. And the nurses taking care of you. And Santa came to visit.”
The boy sniffled, wiping his eyes. “Santa came for me?”
“Came all the way from the North Pole just to see you.”
That got a small smile.
Lili turned away, blinking hard. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t watch him be this good, this kind, this perfect.
Couldn’t leave him.
Couldn’t stay.
She busied herself organizing the gift pile, checking tags, anything to avoid looking at him.
“Elf lady?” a small voice called.
She turned. A little girl, around five, stood with her hand on the IV pole she dragged with her. She wore a princess nightgown over her hospital gown.
“Hi, sweetie. What’s your name?”
“Andie. I have cancer.”
Lili’s throat closed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. The doctors are fixing me.” Andie gestured at the gift pile. “Which one is mine?”
“Let’s see.” Lili checked the tags and found one with Andie’s name. “This one.”
Andie took it carefully. “Will you help me open it?”
“Of course.”
They sat together on the floor. Andie’s small fingers worked at the tape. Inside was a doll, nothing fancy, just a simple baby doll with a knit cap.
Andie’s face lit up. “She’s perfect.”
“She is.”
“I’m going to name her Hope.”
A lump lodged in Lili’s throat. “That’s a beautiful name.”
“Because that’s what the doctors say I have. Hope.” Andie clutched the doll close. “Do you have hope?”
Lili looked across the room. Miles was laughing with a teenage boy, the kid’s macho act crumbling under Santa’s warmth.
“I want to.”
Andie patted her hand. “It’s okay. Sometimes you have to look hard to find it.”
Mouths of babes.
After the common room, they gowned up for the isolation rooms. A little girl who was too weak to speak smiled when Miles told her a story about the North Pole. A teenager with an autoimmune disease had shiny eyes when Miles gave him noise-canceling headphones.
“Hospital’s loud at night,” Miles said. “Figured you could use these.”
“Thanks, man.” The kid looked away quickly. “I mean, thanks, Santa.”
In the hallway afterward, Lili stripped off her gown and tried to hold it together. She’d made it through. Stayed professional. Didn’t cry in front of the kids.
But now they had to walk back to the parking lot, get in his truck, and drive back to the clinic.
They walked in silence. The hospital lobby was decorated for Christmas, with a massive tree, garlands, and lights everywhere.
In the parking lot, Miles pulled off his Santa beard and hat. “You were good in there.”
“Thank you for tonight. The kids loved you. They always will. You’re going to be a great dad someday. I hope you know that.”