23. “Couples who spend Christmas together have a seventy-eight percent higher chance of staying together in the long ter
“Couples who spend Christmas together have a seventy-eight percent higher chance of staying together in the long term.”
Archie
My living room has never felt so alive. Everyone’s crammed onto sofas and floor cushions, fully equipped with snacks and drinks. The telly’s playing the post-match analysis in the background, but no one is really paying attention. We’re all too busy reliving the match ourselves.
“…and he pointed, like some kind of Bond villain,” Millie says, gesturing wildly. “You pointed to the bottom right corner and still saved it. I’m not saying you were being cocky, but—”
“But you’re absolutely saying he’s cocky,” Finn interrupts, grinning. “And I back that. I’ve never seen anyone so smug with a penalty save. And I’ve played with this lad since I was six.”
I shrug, slouched back on the sofa with Kat nestled under my arm. Her legs are tucked up beside her, socks pressed against my thigh. “It’s not smug if you’re right.”
They all laugh, and I steal a glance at Kat.
Her thumb strokes absently along the seam of my jeans.
Her hair is loose now, falling in soft waves past her shoulders, and when she turns to look at me, the corners of her eyes crinkle with amusement.
I lean in and kiss her—soft and lingering, just because I can.
“Oi!” Finn says from the armchair, tossing a pretzel into his mouth. “Can we keep the PDA to a minimum?”
“You’re just mad because no one’s kissing you,” I say, pulling Kat into another kiss, just to be annoying. “No one else seems to care.”
Cameron shrugs and casts a side glance at Fallon, who’s perched on a pouffe, knitting a blue scarf like her life depends on it.
I reach for my drink and take a slow sip. “Hey, do you remember that little seafood place at Middleton-on-Sea?” I ask. “The one with the string lights and the outdoor patio?”
“Oh, yeah,” Roxy says. “You and Wade dragged us there a couple years ago during preseason, right?”
“That’s the one,” I say, my lips pulling into a nostalgic smile. “The place is magic in the summer. I’ll have to take you there next year,” I add, glancing at Kat. “You’d love it.”
Her brow wrinkles for a moment, then she smiles before focusing back on the group.
Cameron, who never misses a beat, leans forward with sudden enthusiasm. “We should all go! Rent a house for the weekend, make a vacation out of it. We could do a beach day, fish and chips, a bonfire—”
“Get completely fried under the sun and regret it by Sunday night,” Finn mutters.
“Here here,” Callum says, grabbing his drink from its coaster and raising it like a toast.
“Still worth it.” Cameron grins. “We haven’t gone on a trip in ages. Actually, I don’t think you’ve ever come to one, have you, Cal?”
Millie’s eyes light up. “I’d be in. That sounds amazing.”
Callum sighs. “Fine. Let’s all go to Middleton, then.”
Finn grabs his own drink. “The place I really want to visit is Laponia, though. Think of how fun it would be—snowmobiles, reindeer, the actual Santa Claus.”
Roxy snorts and crunches down on a pretzel. “You do know there’s no such thing, right?”
Finn gives her a deadpan look, hand over his chest. “Wow. What an amazing mother you must be with that attitude.”
Everyone laughs, and she throws a pretzel at his face.
“Still,” she admits. “It must be cool.”
“We should go,” Cameron says, nodding. “Maybe next year during the winter break?”
I glance down at Kat, who’s been quiet for a while. “Do you like the cold? Would you be down for that?”
She sits up straighter, grabbing her drink. “Um, I don’t know. It’s hard for me to plan that far ahead,” she says with a polite smile. “My work schedule is pretty unpredictable.”
My hand is resting on her thigh, but she shifts just out of its reach. I pretend not to notice and nod. “Right, of course.”
The silence only lasts a few seconds—but I feel it. That little hitch in the rhythm between us.
Millie leans forward from the loveseat, mercifully steering the conversation to another topic. “So, what’s everyone doing for Christmas?”
“Staying here,” Fallon says without missing a beat. “Mum and Dad are coming down in their RV. Apparently, they've found some ‘energetically aligned’ campground just outside the city.”
Finn exhales a long sigh. “Let’s just hope Mum won’t try to cook with her solar oven in the rain again. Cillian’s lucky he won’t have time off to join us. Going to be another maddening Christmas Eve. What about the rest of ye?”
“You know my parents,” Cameron says, leaning back in his chair. “Still emotionally unavailable at Christmas. But my bros are coming for a few days, so it should be fun.”
“We’re doing Christmas with my family and Wade’s,” Roxy chimes in, nudging Wade’s knee with hers. “Throwing a cute party since it’s Teddy’s first Christmas. What about you?” she asks, glancing between Kat and me. “You two spending Christmas together?”
“You know, statistically speaking,” Fallon interjects before anyone can answer. A chorus of groans ripples around the room, but she continues unabated. “Couples who spend Christmas together have a seventy-eight percent higher chance of staying together in the long term.”
I chuckle and glance sideways at Kat. “We haven’t really talked about it. I mean… I’d love to. If she’s not working, that is.”
Kat lets out a soft breath. “Christmas is a tricky time in trauma,” she says, her tone light. “Lots of drunk accidents, things exploding in kitchens, and so on. But I’m hoping to get a couple days off.”
I nod slowly, watching her. “Well… if you do, my mum makes a mean trifle. Just saying. I’m also playing for charity in my hometown with Finn. Always a fun time.”
A soft smile tugs at her lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
After that, Millie tells us about her plans with Callum, but I’m barely listening now. All I can see is Kat and me dressed in matching Christmas jumpers, exchanging gifts at my mum’s table. And I really hope that dream becomes a reality.
“Well, that was another fun night,” I say, clearing the rest of the table.
“It was,” Kat agrees, rinsing a glass before placing it in the dishwasher. “Tomorrow’s going to bite, though.” She yawns, stretching her arms over her head.
I seize the opportunity to wrap my arms around her waist. She spins toward me with a soft giggle, and I press my lips to hers, slow and lazy—the kind of kiss that makes me wish time would stop.
“Maybe we should call in sick?” I offer, pulling back slightly. “Stay in with hot chocolate and cookies?”
She chuckles. “Don’t want to train in the cold, huh?”
“I really, really don’t. I thrive in the summertime.”
She laughs again, a quiet, tired sound, before pressing the dishwasher button. The hum of the machine fills the kitchen.
“Speaking of warmth,” I say, leaning against the counter, “I’m really hoping you can come with us to Middleton-on-Sea. It’s beautiful down there this time of year. And I don’t care what Cameron says—we’ll get our own little cottage overlooking the sea. Just you and me.”
She doesn’t answer immediately. Her eyes flick to the floor, then back to mine. “Yeah, maybe.”
I frown. “What, you don’t want to go? Are you more into the Laponia idea? Because I’ll brave the snow as long as I’ve got twenty thermal layers, and if you promise me some sauna time.” I shoot her a grin, stepping closer to kiss her again. But she steps back.
My brows furrow. “What’s wrong?”
Her expression has dimmed, the sparkle in her eye snuffed out. “I’m sorry, Archie. I can’t do this.”
Her words hit me like a plunge into arctic water. I blink, my heart thudding. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t do this. You. Us.” She gestures between us. “It’s not going to work.”
I shake my head, trying to clear the fog that has settled there.
“What are you talking about? Even the Universe thinks we’re perfect together.
You live next door, we have fun, and we have things in common.
Plus, we’re both extremely good looking, you’re a decent athlete, I’m fantastic—I mean, I don’t get it.
” I cross my arms. “You’ll have to do better than that. ”
She’s not even smiling at my words. Now I’m really worried.
“Kat, tell me,” I murmur, taking a step forward. “Is it something that I said or did?”
“No,” she breathes out, dragging herself to the living room. “I don’t know. I told you I didn’t want to be in a serious relationship. It’s not you, it’s—
“Yeah, it’s you, right?” I say, raking a hand through my hair.
I never got served that line before, and now I see how much it stinks.
“That’s not what I meant to say,” she sighs, shambling toward the entryway. “We’re just very busy. Neither of us really has time for a relationship anyway.”
“And yet we’re literally together every other day,” I say, trailing after her. “We have plenty of proof that time isn’t an issue, so don’t hide behind that. Tell me the truth. If you don’t like me that way, it’s fine. But I need to know.”
She refuses to meet my eyes. “Please, Archie. Just let it go.”
I arch an eyebrow, my heart rattling in my chest. “Let it go? How can I when this literally came out of nowhere? Am I really that delusional that I haven’t been seeing things clearly?
Was I wrong about what I’ve seen in your eyes, your body language, your smile?
If that’s the case, fine. Then, it’s on me, and I’ll back out. I promise.”
She presses her lips together, staring at her feet. “No, it’s not that. I do like you, and you’re right. I have strong feelings for you. But I just don’t see myself in a relationship. Besides, I don’t have the best track record,” she mutters, putting her shoes on.
“But that’s in the past,” I reply softly. “And you know I’ll treat you well. I’m a good guy, and I like you, Kat. I really, really like you.”
“But we don’t want the same things. Like I said, it’s not you. It’s really about me and about—” She bites her lip. “Never mind. I’d better go.”
Grabbing her coat, she crosses the landing to her apartment and opens the door, but I’m not letting her go that easily. There’s something wrong. I can feel it.
“Is it because of Middleton or Laponia? Because we don’t have to go,” I say, hustling after her. “I thought it would be nice, but if you don’t want to plan anything that feels too official, I get it. It’s fine.”
She sighs. “Archie, please…”
“I won’t leave until you tell me,” I say, crossing my arms. “Is there someone else?
“No!” she practically shouts, and I know she’s telling the truth.
“Then what? What’s it about?” I pace the length of the small corridor, feeling like a pressure cooker that’s ready to explode.
“It’s about what I can, or rather cannot, do,” she says, her voice dipping an octave.
“What are you talking about?”
She takes a deep breath, then looks away. “I don’t want to be in a long-term relationship because I can’t have children.”
I blink back at her, stunned. Out of all the reasons I was expecting, this one wasn’t even on the list. “What?”
She leans against the wall. “I found out years ago, and that’s why my exes left me.
It’s the deal breaker. I know you’d be an amazing father, and I want you to experience that, but it’s not in the cards for me.
And frankly, I don’t even want it. I always knew I wouldn't have any kids, and I’ve made peace with it. I like my life the way it is.”
I open my eyes wide, then close them, trying to process what she’s saying. “Is this really why you don’t want to be with me? Because you can’t have children, or don’t want any?”
“I can’t take the next step in this relationship with that inevitability looming over us. What if you want a child one day? And maybe you’ll say it’s fine because you don’t care now, but three, perhaps six years from now, you’ll realise you want to be a dad.”
I scratch my head, pacing again. “I get that, but honestly, I never even gave much thought to having kids, you know what I mean? Yeah, I like them and stuff, but being a dad? I don’t know.”
“Exactly,” she says gently. “And you deserve the right to think about it and decide for yourself in your own time. I don’t want you to be forced to make a choice that isn’t yours just because you are with me.
It would be unfair.” She pauses. “Anyway, I’d better go.
I have to get up at three a.m. for my shift. ”
I want to stop her, to talk about this further, but what is there to say? I don’t have a convincing argument to counter her decision. So, I stand back and let her go, no matter how much it hurts.