Chapter 13 Holden
Holden
I wasn’t the kind of guy who went to movie nights. Especially not resort-sponsored ones where everyone cozied up under blankets and drank hot cider and pretended life was some perfect Hallmark movie.
But I also wasn’t the kind of guy who spent all afternoon skiing with someone like Belle.
And now I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
The way she laughed when the wind whipped her hair into her face. How she leaned into the turns like she wasn’t afraid of falling. The way her eyes had lingered on mine just a little too long at the bottom of the last run.
That look haunted me. It was like an invitation…but also a warning.
It was stupid to even consider going tonight. She’d be there, probably tucked up next to Alex. And I’d be…the cousin. The complication. The guy with no business being anywhere near her.
Still, I found myself standing outside the event hall, hands jammed in my pockets, trying to come up with a reason not to walk in. There were probably plenty of reasons, but I didn’t want to think of any of those, so I was coming up blank.
Stepping in like it was normal for me to show up here, I found that the room was already half full, the lights low, the Christmas movie title, The Year Without a Santa Claus, appearing on the screen.
I scanned the crowd, and when the corners of my lips tipped up in a small smile at just the sight of her, I knew it wasn’t a good sign.
Her honey-blond hair was thrown up in a messy bun, and I was surprised to see she was wearing it like that since Alex was back and he considered it beneath his standards.
My jaw clenched at just the memory of how he’d talked to her yesterday at the ice rink.
I looked next to her, expecting to see my jerk of a cousin, but he wasn’t there.
I scanned the room again but couldn’t find him anywhere.
She was here alone. No Alex. No cozy blanket.
Just Belle, sitting with a look on her face that didn’t belong in this happy Christmas moment.
Her expression looked…heavy. Not sad exactly, just weighed down.
My feet moved before I even realized it.
“Hey,” I said quietly, approaching her side. “May I sit?”
She looked up, startled. But then she gave a small nod and shifted slightly. “Sure.”
I dropped down next to her, not too close. “What’s wrong?” I asked, keeping my voice low, as the movie started. “You okay?”
Belle’s eyes stayed on the screen for a second longer before she sighed. “I broke up with Alex.”
Surprise was the first emotion that hit me.
I figured they would break up eventually, but I hadn’t thought it would be during this week.
Next, I felt pride. I was proud of Belle for sticking up for herself and not continuing to date someone who didn’t treat her the way she deserved.
And lastly, I felt relief. The way I was feeling about Belle made me very happy she was single.
But soon guilt was gnawing at me. I hoped there wasn’t anything I had done that had made things harder for her.
Well, besides kissing her that day in New York.
“I’m okay,” she added quickly, like she could see the thoughts racing behind my eyes. “I just…feel kind of terrible for letting it drag out this long. I should’ve said no to this trip. I knew we weren’t right. I guess I just hoped being here would change something. Maybe prove myself wrong.”
I stayed quiet for a second, not trusting myself to speak. Then I looked over at her.
“You wanted to give it a real shot,” I said. “That’s not a bad thing.”
Belle’s lips pressed together, her eyes still fixed on the screen even though I could tell she wasn’t really watching it.
“It kind of feels like it was,” she murmured. “Like I ignored my gut and dragged him—and myself—along because I didn’t want to be wrong.”
“You’re not wrong for hoping,” I said. “Wanting it to work…that’s human. And it means you cared enough to try.”
She finally turned her head toward me. Her eyes were a little shinier than before, but not tearful. Just thoughtful. “Have you ever cared enough to try?”
Her question was like a punch to the gut. My mouth opened and closed like a fish. It wasn’t an accusation but a sincere question.
I looked away, focusing on the screen even though I couldn’t process a single frame of what was happening. My chest felt tight, like she’d somehow unearthed a part of me I usually kept buried deep.
“Not really,” I said, my voice rough. “I mean…I’ve hooked up, sure. But anything serious? No. I’ve never wanted to.”
Belle remained quiet, and when I chanced a look at her, I was surprised there was no judgment in her features. There was also no pity. All I could see in her brown eyes was genuine curiosity, like she wanted to understand why I felt the way I did.
And so that was why I opened my mouth again to share things with her I had never shared with anyone before. I didn’t know what it was about Belle, but somehow she had gotten me to share my feelings twice in one day. It was definitely a Christmas miracle.
“I’ve never wanted to get into a relationship with anyone because I don’t think I am capable of being in one,” I admitted. “I don’t have any experience with loving, meaningful relationships. I don’t know if I have what it takes to be someone’s person.”
Belle continued to listen, giving me space. That somehow made it easier to keep going.
“With everything that happened in my childhood, with my mom constantly telling me I was a mistake and feeling guilty about taking my Aunt Maggie’s help, it was like I never belonged.
Not in Maggie’s family, and definitely not in mine.
” I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly.
“So, yeah. I’ve kept my distance from people. It’s just…easier that way. Safer.”
I looked over at Belle, and for once, I didn’t try to mask what I was feeling. “Because if your own mom doesn’t love you, how can you believe anyone else ever will?”
The words sat heavy between us, but it felt good to finally say them out loud.
And then she was throwing her arms around my neck and hugging me. I froze at her initial reaction but was soon wrapping my arms around her waist.
This wasn’t a romantic hug. It was one of comfort, and it was possibly the best hug I’d ever had. And it was just so Belle. It was full of warmth and caring and unconditional acceptance. I let myself soak in every second of it, knowing I’d remember this simple gesture of kindness from her forever.
I breathed her in, cataloging her cinnamon-and-vanilla scent and how good it felt to have her in my arms. But as the seconds ticked by, I knew it was time to let her go. She’d just broken up with Alex, and I didn’t want her to think I was already trying to make a move on her.
I let my arms loosen around her, and she removed hers from around my neck.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she said gently. “I know I’m no one special, but I think you are worthy of love. You don’t have to know how to be someone’s person. You just have to let someone try to be yours.”
Her words hit me in the chest.
Not like a blow, but like something cracking open, something old and rusted that I’d welded shut a long time ago. I didn’t know what to do with her kindness—with the way she said things that made it harder to hold onto all the defenses I’d spent years perfecting.
It would’ve been easier if she’d brushed it off or given me some throwaway line, but she hadn’t. Belle had somehow said exactly what I’d needed to hear.
She smiled at me and must have noticed a look on my face that told her I was still processing her words, because she turned her body back toward the screen.
“This is my favorite part,” she said, a soft smile tugging at her lips. On screen, a singing iceman danced across the stage. “Snow Miser and Heat Miser each get their own song. I used to hum them for weeks after.”
I watched her for a beat longer, her eyes lit up by the screen, completely absorbed in the scene like she hadn’t just cracked something wide open inside me.
I wasn’t sure what to do with everything I was feeling, but I knew one thing—I wasn’t ready to let her go.
Not when being with her made the world feel warmer.
Not when I finally didn’t feel so alone.
I used to think I was fine with the way things were—keeping people at arm’s length, going through the motions.
But now?
Now I just wanted more time with her.
And I didn’t know what that meant…only that I didn’t want this to end.