Chapter 24 #2
She studies my face, like she’s deciding whether to believe me.
“I didn’t want you to be,” she says finally.
My chest tightens.
“I know I’ve probably been giving mixed signals,” she adds gently. “I’m sorry if that’s confusing.”
“It is,” I admit. “But I get it.”
She exhales, relieved. “I just… I don’t want to get hurt like that again. And I don’t want to lose myself trying to be someone’s everything. I want to stand on my own. Be strong. Not need anybody.”
I stop us from swaying. Just enough to look at her.
“We all need somebody, Jade,” I say softly.
Her eyes search mine.
“And I need you.”
Not desperately. Not possessively.
Just honestly.
The music fades into something slower, quieter. The world recedes.
She doesn’t say yes.
She doesn’t say no.
She just rests her forehead against my chest, right where my heart is loudest.
And for tonight, that’s enough.
For tonight, we’re here.
Together.
Trying.
And I think—this is how it starts again.
We drink too much.
Not sloppy too much. Just enough that the edges blur and everything feels lighter. Eggnog with way more nutmeg than necessary. Champagne that tastes like apples and bad decisions. Jade laughs at something I say that isn’t even that funny, and I swear I could live off that sound alone.
We end up sneaking through the house like idiots, shoes in our hands, giggling so hard I have to press my knuckles to my mouth to keep it down. The halls feel warmer now. Softer. The kind of quiet that only exists late at night when everyone’s guard is down.
It’s almost eleven when she stops in the middle of the hallway and turns to me.
“I’m staying,” she says.
I blink. “Staying… like—”
“Sleepover,” she clarifies, far too casually.
I stare at her.
“…What?”
She grins. “You heard me.”
My brain short-circuits. Entirely. I’m standing there in a dress shirt I forgot to unbutton, champagne buzz humming in my veins, trying very hard not to look like a golden retriever who’s just been told he’s allowed on the couch.
She slips past me.
“Hold on,” she says, already heading back downstairs.
I stand there, stunned, listening to the faint sounds of her moving around, cabinets opening, soft footsteps. When she comes back up, she’s carrying a festive gift bag.
“Merry Christmas, Leo.”
She hands it to me.
Inside is a pair of Christmas pajamas. Red. Ridiculous. Soft flannel.
I look up, confused—and then she pulls out a matching pair.
She giggles.
“Let’s just be us tonight,” she says, suddenly softer. “I enjoy your company. I always did.”
My chest tightens.
“I want to eat Santa’s cookies and drink milk by the fire. Binge cheesy Christmas movies. Fall asleep. Wake up next to you.” She pauses, searching my face. “That’s all I want for Christmas, Leo.”
No expectations.
No angst.
“No making out,” she adds quickly. “No sex. Just… fun. Spending time with you.”
Something in me settles.
Not the part that wants her.
The part that respects her.
“I can do that,” I say quietly. “I’d like that.”
She smiles—relieved, warm—and takes my hand.
Downstairs, the fire is still burning low. We change into our pajamas, awkward and laughing, stealing glances like teenagers again. We pile blankets on the floor, steal cookies from a plate meant for guests, argue over which terrible Christmas movie to start with.
She falls asleep halfway through the second one.
Her head ends up on my shoulder. Her breathing evens out. The fire crackles.
I don’t move.
I don’t touch her.
I just sit there, holding this moment like it’s fragile and holy and mine to protect.
For the first time, love doesn’t feel like a thing I have to chase.
It feels like something that chose to sit beside me and stay.
And I think—yeah.
This.
This is enough.
There’s a soft knock at the door not long after Jade falls asleep.
I tense instantly, like a guard dog, even though I know exactly who it is.
Susan cracks the door open, peeking in like she’s checking on a couple of teenagers after prom—which, I guess, isn’t far off. Her eyes flick to Jade curled under the blanket, then back to me.
“She okay?” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I say just as quietly. “Out cold.”
Her shoulders relax a fraction.
I step into the hallway and pull the door mostly shut behind me. The house smells like pine and firewood and leftover sugar cookies. Christmas, but the real kind. Not the staged version.
“I just wanted to check in,” Susan says. “An Uber’s taking me home. I’ll be back in the morning to grab her. We’re heading up to the Cape—my friend Irene’s.”
I nod. “Sounds good.”
She studies my face for a long moment. Not suspicious. Measuring.
“I’ve got this,” I say, meeting her eyes. “Merry Christmas.”
Something soft passes through her expression. Approval, maybe. Or relief.
“Merry Christmas, Leo,” she says. Then, as she’s turning away, I add—
“Can I… come too? Tomorrow to the Cape?”
She pauses.
Looks back at me.
A slow, knowing smile curves her mouth. “We’ll see.”
And then she’s gone, the door closing quietly behind her.
I stand there for a second longer than necessary, listening to the house settle. To the wind outside. To Jade’s steady breathing through the door.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.