Chapter Twenty-Four
Ivy
The clock strikes nine.
“C’mon, Starlight,” Jace rasps out, the embers of his tone like a flint striker catching a spark in the crisp night air. “Let’s find you a Christmas tree.”
The grin on his face alone is enough to make me follow him through the snow in the forested Christmas tree lot, the warmth of the expression overriding the numbness in my feet and the tingling in my hands.
Essentially, Jace’s presence could persuade me to disregard frostbite, as would the memory of our kiss.
I won’t be able to look in the mirror again without recalling the image of his hands wrapped around my waist in the studio.
“You know that it’s way past my bedtime, right?” I tease. “I think you’re single-handedly changing my circadian rhythm.”
Jace chuckles, the sound catching on my ribs.
I want to breathe more of it into my lungs.
Due to the busyness of the holiday season and the wild chaos of daily rehearsals on top of teaching my regular classes, plus investing my time and energy into the holiday performance, I haven’t had a chance to get my own tree.
My parents offered to help me, knowing how much I love the tradition, but I wanted to be the one to pick it.
But the weeks passed, and now we’re less than a week from Christmas, and I still don’t have a tree.
I would just forget it, but it’s what I do every year.
Jace extends a gloved hand behind his back, clearly an open invitation to connect more deeply with him, and I take it.
It strikes me just how many times I’ve been offered a hand like this.
In every pas de deux, in every partnering exercise, a man’s hand was extended, and I took it.
But the gesture never meant anything more than a move to get to the next part of the choreography.
The extended hands represented safety, a promise that the other person wouldn’t let me fall.
But off the stage, the offer means even more.
It’s more than a routine. It’s an act of trust, an act of surrender, and I hope it’s also a chance for us to move on and move forward .
. . which is what I need to focus on if I’m going to move through this snow.
The drifts of snow are high and require effort to trudge through, but this is the weather in which I feel most at home.
Whenever I’ve considered leaving Birch Borough—apart from my time in The SoHo Ballet—I can’t bring myself to imagine being anywhere that doesn’t have snow.
Each year, I long for the moment when the iconic birch trees framing our town stand out even more prominently against the winter white and when the tall fir trees are coated in a layer of ice, glistening in the winter sun.
During a Birch Borough winter, everything looks like it sparkles, no holiday required, no special occasion necessary. It’s just the world showing us that even after the coldest night, there are stunning possibilities. And I’m so glad I live in a world where there’s snow.
“Jace,” I speak into the quiet landscape surrounding us, “where are you taking us?” As we’ve wandered together this evening, talking and laughing, we passed the usual spot where my family has found our tree for the past thirty years.
But his steps don’t slow, and there’s a steadiness in their rhythm that doesn’t frighten me in the least.
The scent of pine wraps around us, and it melds so perfectly with Jace’s natural scent that I hope it will stay in my lungs for a bit so I can hold on to this feeling a little longer.
A subtle glow flickers between the trees, and we see a clearing overhead.
Wicked Good Farms hosts seasonal activities throughout the year, and I remember they put on one on the outskirts of their property around Christmastime that I’ve never been to.
But it’s renowned in our area for being one of the most romantic events in this region.
Of course, there was no one in my life to ever bother to take me to it, even though I’ve always wanted to go.
The sound of a horse neighing confirms what I’ve dreamed. We’re going on a sleigh ride.
In the excitement, I switch places, taking the lead and directing us toward the clearing.
Now, it’s my hand extended behind me, never losing hold of Jace.
When I step fully into the glow of the lights, the sight of two horses strapped to a sleigh with flannel jackets bright against their white coats sends a thrill up and down my limbs.
A giggle escapes me, and then a laugh follows before I feel Jace step behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He doesn’t once let go of my hand.
Instead, he leans down, and I feel his warmth seep through my own jacket. The man is a furnace, even in these temperatures. I lean my head back, feeling the softness of his lips brush against my temple, causing both a shiver and a hum to escape.
“Do you wanna take a sleigh ride?” he says against my skin.
I nod, content to savor the weight of his words near my ear.
But then I leap into action. “Let’s go, love,” I sing, a smile escaping as I head toward the edge of the tree line, the sleigh ahead.
Before I can take two steps, I’m pulled back and spun around in the snow.
The immovable statue behind me draws me into his chest. “Oof!” I say ungracefully, looking into his face.
His eyes have grown as dark as the night sky, and I search them, looking intently for something I don’t know if I have the right to say.
“Love.”
I didn’t mean to use the term of endearment with him, but I won’t confess I’m sorry about it. Because I’m not. “What is it?” I tug on his hand, suddenly a bit afraid of his frozen posture.
“You said ‘love.’” His voice is soft but clear.
I laugh nervously but then steady my voice. “I did.”
He nods, the movement so slight I’d miss it if I weren’t so close to his beautiful face.
I register his furrowed brows, clenched jaw, and glassy eyes.
He’s wrestling with something, and the heat of his stare burns into the blush on my face.
But I won’t relent. Jace needs to know I’m a dancer, not a runner.
And when he’s ready, I’ll willingly convince him that he’s my love for the rest of my life, if he’ll have me.
I lift my chin and press closer, watching as his eyes track my every move, the truth in my expression my only defense.
Taking a deep breath, I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my chin on his chest to stare up at his handsome face.
I’m convinced there’s nothing like the feeling of him being near me in the whole world. I keep my voice soft and measured.
“Jace, my gut is telling me that there are a whole lot of lies spinning around your head right now. Untruths that I know make you doubt what we can be. Perhaps hindrances that weren’t between us before but now are because of time or something else.
Maybe it’s the wonder of winter or just the magic of being near each other again, but I’d like to tear down those lies together, if we can. ”
I watch a twitch of his mouth, a few blinks, and an exhale before the stiffness in his shoulders lifts, and I can almost see him being relieved of a weight I think he’s been carrying since we met for the second time.
Capturing me with his gaze, he pulls me in again.
I lean toward him willingly, waiting until Jace’s lips meet my forehead.
There’s a gentle kiss, and then he places his forehead against my own.
The soft nickers of nearby horses mimic the gentle galloping in my heart, and the truth burrows deep into my chest.
I love him.
I’ve wanted to love Jace for years. And now I have the opportunity to try. This will be my Christmas wish for the rest of my life.
“Ivy,” he confesses my name like a prayer, confidently and drenched with affection. He clears his throat. “Starlight, I’m sorry I didn’t go to New York for you.” It’s the first time he’s said the words out loud. “Can you ever forgive me?”
I think of Emmy and the fact that Jace was the understudy of his own life when he first returned to Birch Borough, a feeling I know all too well.
I think of him with my students and the way he gives everything of himself, every time, even in the unseen moments.
I think of myself, combatting both loneliness and the vapor of a future stolen from me for eight long years.
So, when I speak, the words pour from my heart.
“You have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t have a choice.”
“We always have a choice.”
“That sentiment may be true, but Jace, I do feel like I need to know. Emmy’s mom . . . is she . . .? Will she . . .?” I don’t know how to finish the sentence, but I see his jaw clench.
“She released custody of Emmy entirely.” At the grit in his voice, my eyes widen, the revelation devastating.
“It’s just Emmy and me. And I know our situation is different from what you may have originally wanted, but I'm confident we can work through it if you are willing. There was a time when I made choices that I’m not proud of.
Yet, I believe they reflect the man I once was and not the man I want to be. The man I am now.”
It hurts me to think of what he’s gone through, the regrets that he has.
“We all make mistakes,” I murmur. “But Emmy is a gift. And I know you know that. Sometimes, the things in which we find the most pain also have a way of giving us the most joy. It’s grace we don’t deserve, but it’s real and true.
” I cling to him a little tighter. “Jace, what’s been weighing on you the last few days? ”
His gloved hands tug on the pockets of my coat. I’ve realized he refuses to stop touching me in some way for any period of time tonight, ensuring that his hands are placed gently upon me at all times. It’s actually adorable—not that I’d tell him that.