Chapter 21
VIVIAN
Christmas Day
I take a deep breath, savoring the smell of bacon, eggs, and waffles as I stand by the sink. My mom and I move in sync—she washes, I dry—our routine perfected over the years. Bing Crosby and Dean Martin play in the background, their Christmas classics filling me with nostalgia. A fire crackles in the family room, and the Christmas tree sparkles with lights and ornaments. The main floor feels cozy and festive, filled with the scent of breakfast and the warmth of holiday music. Dad is on the couch, scrolling through his X feed and managing the playlist. It’s Christmas morning; we’ve just finished opening gifts and eating breakfast, all in our matching Christmas pajamas. My family is small, just the three of us, but the love we share is big.
A wave of emotion fills me as I remember Ben and me doing the dishes just two years ago. I washed while he dried, and I couldn’t stop smiling that morning. He had surprised me with a planned trip to Paris for my 28th birthday in June, and I was over the moon. But Ben wasn’t there the following summer, and the thought of going without him felt unbearable at the time.
My mom interrupts my thoughts. “Have you spoken to Leo yet?” she asks, her voice full of motherly concern.
I sigh. “No, not yet. ”
I tell my mom everything. I’ve been home, Utah home, for a little over a week now and leave in a few days. Despite the weight of sadness that plagues me between my memories of Ben and my confusion with Leo, I’ve had some great moments over the past week. I went skiing and snowshoeing with my mom and dad. Sarah and I went to the ChristkindlMarket in Salt Lake City and had breakfast at my favorite place in Park City, Five5eeds. I took my niece and nephew to the ice castles and Zoo Lights with Melissa. Last night, I spent the evening with the Walkers, where we went around the circle and shared our favorite memories of Ben. It was bittersweet but has become one of my favorite new traditions on Christmas Eve.
“Do you think today might be a good day to reach out?” She’s prodding, but in that sneaky mom way.
“I don’t know, Mom. I still don’t know what to do or say. I’ve never been so conflicted before.” I stare blankly at the snow falling through the large wall of glass in the family room.
“Well, maybe you just start with ‘Merry Christmas,’ just to let him know you’re thinking of him. The rest will fall into place, I’m sure of it.” I don’t know how my mom does it, but she’s one of the most positive people I know. She has this unwavering belief that what you put out comes back to you. I used to be that way too… until my life went to shit, and I lost everything in a matter of seconds.
“I can only imagine he’s going crazy not having heard from you for this long.”
Why? Why does she have to go there right now?
“You’re probably right, Mom. And I’d say that it serves him right… I’m going crazy too.”
“Vivian, honey, it’s not a game. Have some faith. I believe things will work out if you trust the process.” She stops washing and looks at me. “You should call him.”
“I’m not calling him. I’m not ready for that. I’ll send him a text today.”
She smiles. Sometimes you just have to give your mom a small win.
I laugh softly. “Geez, Mom, when are you going to mind your own business?” I say jokingly.
She laughs. “Never. It’s my job not to.”
Grinning, I bump her with my shoulder, and she bumps me back.
* * * * * * * * * *
I sit on my bed, coffee in one hand and my phone in the other, staring at an open message to Leo. I’ve reread his last text to me, and mine to him, a dozen times, each time stirring a whirlwind of emotions inside me. My heart starts to pound.
Taking a deep breath, I start typing, my fingers shaky. I type, “Merry Christmas, I hope you have a great day.”
I erase it and try again, typing out “Merry Christmas” again and stare at it. I’m stuck. There’s almost too much to say, and I can’t find the right words. Finally, I leave it as it is, passing the ball to him.
Vivian: Merry Christmas.
I anxiously wait as ten minutes go by, and Leo responds.
Leo: Merry Christmas, Viv. I miss you. Can I see you when you get home?
Damn. I gave him the ball, and he just passed it back. I have no teammates to pass it to, and I’m unsure what to do with it. If I see him on Friday when I get home, I still have four full days to figure out what to say. I type out “sure” and then delete it. I need to sound confident.
Vivian: Yes.
Vivian: I land at 7:00 PM
Leo: Can I pick you up from the airport?
Vivian: No, I’ll take the train. I don’t love that setting for the talk we need to have.
Leo Okay. Can I come over at 8:30?
Vivian: Yeah, that works.
Leo: Okay. My friend is in town, but Mer can babysit him. I’ll see you then. And Viv, have a great week. I’m excited to see you.
I drop my phone on the bed and shut my eyes, trying to hold back the tears that are unwillingly wringing their way out. He’s excited to see me.
I don’t know what I am.
* * * * * * * * * *
December 30
The fifty-five-minute journey home on the train flies by in what feels like seconds as I anxiously rack my brain for the upcoming conversation with Leo. I still have no idea what I want to say. I’m going to have to rely on my mom’s motto and trust my gut in the moment, hoping it won’t backfire.
I walk into the empty, dark house and take all my stuff upstairs. I’m exhausted and would love nothing more than to fall into my bed and let sleep take me. I haven’t slept well all week, my thoughts racing every night since I texted Leo. Shit. It’s 8:15, which only allows me fifteen minutes to pull myself together.
I look like hell, and there really isn’t enough time to do anything about it. I fix my ponytail, apply some deodorant, pat my cheeks with a little cream blush, and swipe on a natural pink lip gloss.
When Leo arrives, I open the door, gesturing for him to come in. My stomach twists in knots.
“Hey, Viv.” Leo’s lips curve into a soft smile as he steps inside.
“Hi,” is all I say, matching his smile with effort.
Walking into the living room, I sit on the chaise and turn my body toward the rest of the sofa, so I can face him as he takes the cushion next to it.
“How was Utah?” he asks.
“It was good.” I fidget with the throw pillows, trying to get comfortable. “Can we skip the semantics for now?” I ask, hoping it doesn’t sound bitchy, but I can’t do small talk until we’ve cleared the air.
“Sure. Whatever you want.” He’s being cautious, his eyes wary, and I feel on edge. He’s never seen me like this; hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen myself like this. I’m usually easygoing, but I’ve built a fortress around myself, and I don’t know where the door is .
There’s an uncomfortable silence, a first for us.
“Okay… do you want me to go first?” he offers.
I only nod.
“Alright.” He stumbles for words, his face filled with anguish. “Christ, Viv, I never meant for any of this to happen. I’m sorry. I’ve been a mess trying to figure out what the hell I want, and honestly, I’m still unsure. But I crossed a line. I got caught up in wanting more… physically, and I let it take over.”
I’m stunned by his excuse, my face contorting in confusion. “You wanted more physically? Are you seriously going to blame what happened on your physical desires? God, that’s such bullshit, and you know it.” Wow. I can’t believe how harsh I’m being. I’m surprised by my own bluntness.
Leo’s eyes widen, and his expression shifts from sorrow to hurt. He looks down, swallowing hard, clearly taken aback by my words.
“Look, I’m sorry if that came out wrong,” I say, my voice softening but firm. “But I need honesty from you.”
“Don’t be sorry. I deserve that. And if that’s how you feel, it’s how you feel.”
“It’s not about how I feel, it’s about how you feel. And right now… it feels like you aren’t being honest about that.” I fixate on the pillow cushion I’m leaning against for a moment, rubbing the leather and tracing the seams, trying to figure out what to say next. Why won’t he admit that he has feelings for me?
My hand stills so that I can focus on him. “I just don’t see a clear path forward for us right now. It feels like we both want more… physically, but you keep holding back. Why is that?” I frown, feeling the weight of my own confusion. “What is it that’s stopping you from wanting to be with me? I need to understand, but I can’t unless you tell me.”
He breaks eye contact with me for the first time tonight. “It’s not that simple. I care about you a lot, but I think we need to stay friends. We just need more self-control.”
“Self-control? Are you serious?” I sink back against the cushion as I rub my temples. “Come on. You say it’s not that simple, but I know you care for me. And after what happened, there’s no way you don’t feel the same way I do. I was there, and…” I trail off, shaking my head in frustration. “You can deny it all you want, but I won’t accept you saying it was just your physical desires taking over. Fuck that.”
“Vivian, I…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Of course I care about you, and I don’t want to lose you. You’re too important to me. There are parts of my life you don’t understand.”
“How can I? You never let me in completely. You keep everything so locked and guarded. God!” I throw my hands up in frustration, my voice rising. “It’s exhausting.”
“It’s more complicated than that. There are things I just don’t want to talk about.” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck before continuing. “Look, I know you want more—a real relationship, commitment. But that’s just not me. It never has been. And sex… it means more to you than it does to me.” He sighs, still not meeting my eyes. “I care about you, but this is just… not what I can give.”
I scoff, letting it hang in the air. I take a deep breath and look him straight in the eye. “You can’t keep running from your feelings.” I feel my eyes getting misty. “They’re going to catch up to you someday. You think we can just go back to being friends, but this physical affection will keep happening again and again… we can’t ignore it.”
“I don’t want to ignore it. I’m just trying to protect us both. We can still be friends, feelings and all; we just need boundaries.”
“Boundaries? God, are you serious? We’ve already tried that, and we’ve crossed so many lines.” The discomfort is palpable as I shift in my seat. My body temperature rises, heat creeping up my neck, and I suddenly feel hot and stifled. “Maybe we need to take a step back, see less of each other for a while. Give ourselves space to figure this out.”
His face tightens, and I can see the pain in his eyes. “I don’t want that. I love being with you. I don’t want to lose you in any capacity.”
“I don’t want to lose you either. But being around you and not being able to have more… it’s hard for me. Our chemistry… the way we connect—it makes it even harder.”
I watch his face for understanding. My heart aches with the possibility of distancing myself from him, but I know it’s the only way to protect my sanity.
He clenches his jaw, the tension clear. “I don’t want to step back. But I also don’t want to keep hurting you.”
“But you do keep hurting me… It’s not something I want to do either. But I think it’s the best way forward… at least for now. We can still be friends, just… with some space.”
His shoulders sag, resignation setting in. “What does that even look like?” he asks, his fingertips pressing against his forehead.
“I don’t know. Maybe we see each other once a week, just to catch up. Keep things light until it gets easier.”
He sighs, smoothing his fingers across his forehead. “I guess that makes sense… Fuck. It’ll be tough, though.”
“I know,” I say softly, biting back the ache in my chest. “But I think it’s the only way we can make this work without losing each other completely.”
“Fine, we’ll try that.” He rubs the back of his neck, clearly uneasy, then glances at me, hesitating. “Are you still going to Meredith’s New Year’s Eve party tomorrow night?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I told Meredith I would be. I could use a distraction, anyway.”
He offers a small, tentative smile. “Good. I’m glad you’ll be there.”
“Me too… How was your Christmas?”
“It was nice. Brian’s in town, as you know, and we went to Meredith and Piper’s like I usually do. It was good.”
“That sounds great,” I say, genuinely happy he had a good time.
“How was your trip to Utah?”
“It was good. A bit of a whirlwind, but it was nice to see everyone.”
He nods again, looking like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. “Okay. Well, I should probably get going. See you tomorrow night?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I reply, my voice steady despite the swirl of emotions inside me .
I walk him to the door, and he gives me a hug goodbye. I can feel myself resisting, pulling away because what I really want is for him to take me into his arms and kiss me like he did before. As the door closes behind him, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.