Chapter Ten
Travis
I wake up to the sound of my family downstairs.
Right, it’s Christmas Day. I can hear Rosie shrieking with delight, pots and pans clattering in the kitchen, and someone singing Jingle Bells badly off-key.
I should go downstairs too and join the festivities, but I want to lie here for a bit longer so I can listen to Riley’s quiet breathing.
She’s still asleep. Her hair is spread across the pillow, and her right hand is tucked under her cheek.
I can’t imagine a more gorgeous view in this entire town.
I almost kissed her last night. Right in front of our families.
The thing that stopped me was Beau’s voice breaking through the moment.
And the fact that I’m still technically under contract with Sienna.
Not for long, though. I’m ending it. Today.
I don’t care what it costs me anymore. I can’t keep pretending I love Sienna when the only person I want to be with is sleeping six feet away from me.
I slip out of bed and head to the kitchen, where Mom is making her famous cinnamon roll casserole, Dad is attempting to flip pancakes, and Grandma is sitting at the table directing traffic like a general.
“Travis! Merry Christmas!” Mom wraps me in a hug. “Can you believe it? Our whole family together, plus the Quinns! This is exactly what I wanted. Not that their house flooded, of course, but to share Christmas with all of us… It’s a blessing.”
“It sure is. Merry Christmas, Mom. And Dad. And Grandma,” I say as I make my round through the kitchen and give everyone a hug.
“Go wake everyone up, will you? Breakfast is almost ready, and then we’ll do presents.”
I head back upstairs, but I pause outside my bedroom door. Through the crack, I can see Riley sitting up in bed, stretching her arms over her head. She looks soft and sleepy and so beautiful it hurts.
I knock and push the door open. “Morning. Merry Christmas.”
She smiles, and it’s like sunrise after a cold night. “Merry Christmas, Travis.”
“Mom says breakfast is almost ready.”
She swings her legs out of bed. “Great. Give me ten minutes to look human?”
“You already look gor—” I start. “Yeah, take your time.”
Smooth, Steelbird. Real smooth.
Twenty minutes later, we’re all crammed around the dining table again, this time for breakfast instead of dinner. The cinnamon roll casserole is a hit, the pancakes are slightly burnt but edible, and there’s enough bacon and eggs to feed a small army.
“Everyone to the living room for presents,” Mom announces as soon as all our plates are empty.
The living room feels even more cramped than it was for the talent show, but somehow we all squeeze in. Presents surround the tree—way more than there were yesterday. Apparently, everyone snuck down during the night to add their gifts to the pile. I know I did.
“Okay, ground rules,” Dad says, standing by the tree with a Santa hat that Rosie keeps trying to grab. “We’ll go around the room. Everyone gets to open one present at a time, so we can all see what everyone got. Riley, you’re closest to the tree, so you go first.”
Riley picks up a rectangular package with her name on it and reads the tag. “This one’s from Aspen and Maddox.”
She unwraps it to reveal a beautiful leather journal. “Oh, this is gorgeous. Thank you so much.”
“It’s for all those brilliant literary thoughts you have,” my sister says with a smile.
We go around the room as agreed. Beau gets a new tool set from his parents, Grandma receives a mystery novel collection from Annie and William, Mom gets a fancy kitchen gadget from Dad, and Rosie mostly just enjoys destroying the wrapping paper despite the mountain of toys she’s collecting.
When it’s my turn, I open a gift from my parents. It’s a new watch, sleek and understated. “Thanks, Mom, Dad. It’s perfect.”
“Okay, Travis, your turn to hand one out,” Mom says.
This is it. I reach under the tree and pull out the small package I wrapped last night after Riley fell asleep. I called in a favor yesterday and picked it up after the shops were already closed.
“This one’s for Riley,” I say, handing it to her.
She looks surprised. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Travis.”
“Just open it.”
She carefully unwraps it. Inside is a box of premium stationery—thick, cream-colored paper with delicate edges—and a fountain pen.
She stares at it for a long moment, and I can’t read her expression. Is she happy or disappointed?
“It’s for letters. I know we can text, and that’s fine, but I missed your letters. The ones you used to write about Shakespeare and Stephen King and whatever book you were reading. I thought maybe we could start that tradition again.”
When she looks up at me, her eyes are suspiciously bright. “Travis, this is…”
“Too much? Not enough? I can exchange it.”
“No, it’s perfect. Thank you. And I’d love to be your pen pal again.”
Her eyes meet mine, and a warm feeling spreads through my bones. It’s like she sees exactly what I’m trying to say without me having to spell it out. That I want to stay in touch. Want her in my life.
“Well, that’s sweet. Young love. Nothing like it,” Grandma says with a smile.
“Grandma, that’s not what this is,” I protest, but everyone’s already laughing and moving on to the next gift.
The present exchange continues for another half hour. All the while, Riley keeps glancing at the stationery box I got her, running her fingers over the paper like it’s made of the most precious material in the world.
After the living room is covered in wrapping paper and Rosie has thoroughly exhausted herself destroying ribbons, people start to disperse. Some head to the kitchen to help with Christmas dinner prep, while others settle in to watch whatever Christmas movie marathon is on TV.
“I need to make a phone call for work. I’ll be upstairs,” I announce to no one in particular.
Once I’m in my room, I close the door and pull out my phone. My hands are steadier than I expected as I pull up Sienna’s number. It’s early afternoon here, which means it’s late morning in L.A. She should be awake.
Sienna answers on the third ring. “Travis, my fake boyfriend. Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas, Sienna. Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Of course. What’s up? Oh, God, is this about those photos from the ice rink? Because Maxwell already handled that. The statement went out; it’s all smoothed over.”
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” I run a hand through my hair. “The statement. The photos. All of it.”
“Okay. Spill.”
“I can’t do this anymore, Sienna. The fake relationship. The PR campaign. I’m done.”
“I know the photo thing was stressful, but it’s handled. We just need to lie low for a few weeks, maybe do one more public appearance together after New Year’s, and in a few months, we can leave this whole fake thing behind us.”
“No. I mean, I’m done. Now. I want to end the contract.”
“But what about your endorsement deals? The penalties for breaking the contract early could cost you millions.”
“I know. I’ve thought about it. All of it. And I’m still done. This whole thing was a mistake from the beginning. I should never have agreed to it. And this has nothing to do with you, by the way. I respect you and value you as a friend.”
Sienna is quiet for a long moment. “Oh, thank God,” she finally says.
“What?”
“Travis, I’ve been wanting to end this for weeks. I just didn’t know how to bring it up without seeming unprofessional or hurting your career. This whole thing has been exhausting. Do you know how hard it is to pretend to be in love with someone you don’t have feelings for? No offense.”
“None taken. I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
“Look, you’re a decent guy. You’re hot. But we’re not meant to be, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And honestly? There’s this guy—my co-star from the movie. I’ve been wanting to ask him out for weeks, but I couldn’t do anything about it because of our contract. So if you’re ending this, you’re actually doing me a favor.”
I can’t help but smile. “So you’re not going to fight me on this?”
“Are you kidding? I’m going to help you.
We’ll coordinate with our teams and make it look mutual.
That way, the sponsors can’t claim either of us violated the contract because it’s a joint decision.
We might still take a small financial hit, but nothing like what would happen if one of us broke it unilaterally. ”
“Sienna, thank you. Really.”
“Thank me by going after that girl from the photos. Riley, right? The way you looked at her in those pictures.” She sighs. “That’s how someone should look at the person they’re with. I hope my co-star looks at me like that someday.”
“I think you should tell him how you feel.”
“I think you should take your own advice first,” she says with a laugh. “Merry Christmas, Travis. I mean it. Go get your girl.”
After we hang up, I sit there for a moment, letting it sink in. It’s done. The fake relationship is over. I’m finally free. And more importantly, I’m free to tell Riley how I feel.
I get up and rummage through the back of my closet, where I left a box of things I didn’t take with me when I moved out.
I grab the stacks of letters I exchanged with Riley, decades ago, and read one of them.
Then two. I can’t stop grinning. Can’t stop thinking about how cute she was with her stickers and gel pens in all colors of the rainbow.
And I just know that I made the right decision.
I’m about to head back downstairs when my phone buzzes with a text from Maxwell. Just two words, all caps: CALL ME.
I consider ignoring it. Whatever he has to say, I don’t want to hear it right now. But if I don’t call him back, he’ll just keep trying, and I’d rather get this over with before dinner.
He answers immediately, and he’s already yelling.
“What on earth were you thinking? I just got off the phone with Sienna’s manager. You’re ending the contract? Both of you? Are you out of your mind?”
“Maxwell, please.”
“Do you have any idea how much money you’re throwing away? The endorsement deals alone are going to set you back seven figures. Seven, Steelbird!”
“Maxwell, listen to me,” I say, but he ignores me.
“And right before the playoffs. The team won’t be happy about this distraction. Your focus should be on football, not on some—”
“MAXWELL!” I cut him off. “I don’t care.”
“What do you mean, you don’t care?”
“I don’t care about the money. I don’t care about the endorsement deals. I don’t even care that much about the playoffs, if I’m being honest. I care about being happy. And that fake relationship was making me miserable.”
“Travis, you need to think about your future.”
“I am thinking about my future. A future where I’m not lying to everyone I know.
A future where I can be with someone I actually care about without violating some contract.
Sienna and I worked it out. We’re making it a mutual decision, coordinating our statements.
It’s done, Maxwell. I’m not changing my mind. ”
“You’re really doing this?”
“I really am.”
“Fine. I’ll talk to legal, and we’ll figure out the best way to minimize the damage. But Travis? This is going to cost you. A lot.”
“I know. And believe me, it’s worth it.”
I hang up and sit on the edge of my bed for a moment. My heart is pounding, but it’s not from fear. It’s from excitement, from relief, from the knowledge that I finally did something for myself instead of for my career.
Now I just need to tell Riley.