30
After Suzanne put her two helpers to work with last minute Christmas shopping, dinner planning, cooking, baking, wrapping, everything for days on end, Kelsey and Claire were working on a Christmas puzzle in the den when an unsuspecting knock came to the large oak doors of the main house.
Claire peaked through the window towards the driveway and saw a Range Rover she didn’t recognize.
Cornelius was already on his feet.
“I’ll get it,” he said, voice even.
Claire set her mug down, made eye contact with Kelsey and they did a walk-run to the top of the stairs to peek at the visitor.
Jason stood on the porch, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, hair still perfectly trimmed in that way that used to make Claire’s heart spin. He looked thinner. Tired. Hopeful in a way that made her chest tighten.
“Dr. Ashford,” Jason said, forcing a smile. “Hi.”
The smile was not returned.
“Jason,” her father said coolly. He didn’t step aside. “What are you doing here?”
“I-uh.” Jace glanced past him, eyes finding Claire, peeking over the top of the stairwell. “I was hoping to talk to Claire. Just for a minute.”
Claire’s father didn’t move.
“You’ve said everything you needed to say,” he replied. “A long time ago.”
Her mother was already walking through the hallway to the door.
“Mrs. Ashford,” Jace said quickly, relief flashing across his face. “Hi.”
Suzanne offered a polite smile, composed and measured. The kind she used on difficult people at the club and distant relatives.
“Hello, Jace,” she said. “It’s cold out there.”
Cornelius shot Suzanne a look, but she ignored it. She turned to Jace. “Why don’t you come inside for a moment.”
“Stay here,” Claire whispered to Kelsey, “Please. Please stay here. Don’t say anything.” Kelsey nodded in agreement, making that promise to her, as a friend.
“Mom–” Claire started down the stairs.
Jace looked stunned. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not,” Suzanne said politely and smoothly, already stepping back to make space. Her father’s jaw tightened at the sound of Suzanne, but he ultimately stepped aside.
Jace hesitated for only a second before crossing the threshold.
Claire stayed where she was.
He stopped a few feet from her, hands clasped now, voice soft. “I didn’t know where else to go. I just… I was hoping we could get coffee. Somewhere neutral. Just talk.”
Claire thought back to the conversation with Mark Sherblosky, his agent. Trying to get her to go to a public place, for publicity.
“Why don’t you two kids go into the receiving room, and I will bring a cuppa,” Suzanne gestured to the little waiting room off the side of the main entryway. Claire always knew this room as kind of a holding cell to keep guests and make decisions about whether they can stay or leave.
Silence stretched the sitting room as Suzanne brought two cups of tea on a silver serving platter with a couple of biscuits on the side.
She quickly left the estranged couple to their own devices, but Claire knew that her mother, and likely Kelsey, would be on the other side of the wall, or listening from the servant’s tunnel.
After the enthusiastic clinks of stirring spoons, they sat in silence. Sipping tea.
Kelsey didn’t hesitate. He whipped out his phone and opened the team group chat.
RUGBY BOYS
Kelsey: OMG YOU GUYS. JACE IS AT DOCS PARENTS’ HOUSE. UNANNOUNCED.
SmashySmash: who the frik is jace and why are you at the doctors house kels?
Luck: your in England?
Luck: yure*
Luck: you’re*
Luck: Fuck
Skiddie: who is Jace?
Kelsey: You guys are clueless. Jason is the docs ex.
Kelsey: He is cute you guys.
Kelsey: I can’t hear too good, but he said Ibiza.
SmashySmash: What happened in Ibiza?
Kelsey: I think he cheated on her
Toby: fucking prick
Miko: what are you talking about?
Kelsey: I hate this guy.
Kelsey: Bad vibes
.
The replies came fast – rage, disbelief, heart emojis for Claire – but one name never responded.
After what seemed like an hour, Jace’s voice broke the silence.
“Listen.” He sounded like he practiced. “I hate that you remember it like this,” he said, shaking his head slightly.
“That night became something it was never meant to be, and suddenly it’s the only thing anyone sees.
I need you to know that it doesn’t define what we had, or who I am to you.
People make mistakes when they’re under pressure, when they’re watched, when they’re away from the life that actually matters.
I made a mistake. I was lonely. We were apart.
I know the fallout hurt you, but I wish you could see how much of this has been blown out of proportion, how quickly a private lapse turned into a public narrative.
If you could let go of that version of events, just a little,” he paused, “I think you’d remember why we are so good together. ”
“You put your dick in Christy Madelston in Ibiza, Jason,” Claire flatly responded. “That’s why we aren’t together.”
Jace was staring at her shocked, that Claire would suggest such a thing even happened.
“It was a mistake, Claire. It didn’t mean anything.”
“And yet… it happened,” Claire responded coldly. “Was there anything else you needed from me?”
“Why are you so emotionless about this Claire?” Jason was raising his voice. “Did I not matter to you? Did what we have not matter?”
“We have already talked about this, Jace.”
“It was the travel; it wore me down. The constant flights, hotel rooms that all looked the same, the pressure of football. I was lonely, Claire. I’m sorry.”
Claire didn’t respond.
Two hours later, Claire was still trapped in the receiving room, Jace talking in calm, careful circles like if he repeated himself enough times the truth would rearrange. Claire was not budging.
“It was just sex, it didn’t mean anything. Please,” he touches her folded hands, “let’s go get some coffee…” Claire pulled her hands away.
There was a loud knock, frantic at the door, and the knob jiggled, impatient to see if anyone who actually lived there was to answer the door. Locked.
THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD.
Cornelius came rushing down the hall to the foyer. “Were you expecting someone?” He hollered into the receiving room.
THUD THUD THUD THUD
Claire shook her head, without speaking. Jace, hand still on top of Claire’s, was too stunned to notice.
When the door opened, Noah Wilson filled the doorway, out of breath, like he sprinted to the house in a fit of rage.
He looked put together. His hair was freshly cut, freshly shaved.
Black pea coat hung naturally around his fit body.
Tanned skin a little puckered, probably from the cold, or it could be from him rushing to Claire as if his whole life had been leading up to this one moment.
His eyes found Claire. Then he softened, just enough.
“Noah!” Claire said, surprisingly, rising to her feet.
“Hey,” he said easily. “Sorry I’m late.”
Jace turned sharply toward the looming figure in the doorway. “And you are?”
Noah didn’t look at him. He let himself in, walked past a stunned Cornelius, a speechless Suzanne, and a very amused Kelsey, and crossed the room stopping beside Claire. “Are you ok?” he whispered.
“This is Noah, Jace,” Claire stuttered in introduction.
“He’s my… boyfriend.” Noah looked initially confused at this lie.
“Yes, my boyfriend,” she repeated with confidence.
She took his arm in hers and made eye contact with Noah as if to pass a secret letter that read “Please help me with this one thing. I am so sorry.”
Noah looked down at Claire, and to the arm she wrapped around him. He put his hand over hers, “I’m Noah,” he said with a charming smile. In silent agreement with Claire's proposition, he finally met Jace’s gaze and stretched out a hand in greeting. “Nice to meet you.”
Claire’s let out a sigh of relief.
Noah smiled at her parents. “I was in London visiting friends and thought I’d pop in for a visit. Introduce myself. Hope that’s alright.”
Her father studied him for a long beat. Then nodded once and shook Noah’s hand. “Of course, you’re welcome here.”
“Claire,” Suzanne interrupted, “you didn’t tell us your boyfriend was coming…”
Jace stood frozen, color draining from his face. “Boyfriend?”
Claire squeezed Noah’s hand and wrapped both her arms around the one holding her, putting Noah’s body in between her and Jason. Noah recognized what she was doing, using his body to shield her from this towering opposing man. He was more than happy to protect her, capitalizing on this opportunity.
“Yes,” she said calmly from behind Noah’s shoulder. “I didn’t feel like I had to explain it to you.”
Noah leaned in slightly, voice low but clear. “We were just about to head out. Dinner plans.”
Suzanne stood in shock. “Of course,” she said pleasantly. “I’ll grab Claire’s coat.”
Jace opened his mouth – then closed it. For the first time all evening, he had nothing left to say. Kelsey, surprisingly quiet, was all amusement snacking on a bag of crisps. This was not how he expected this evening to go, but he was not mad at the circumstance he was witnessing.
Noah bent down and leaned very close to Claire’s ear. She heard him whisper “We will need a car.”
Her mom passed her coat and her cellphone, and Claire commandeered the keys to a car from the key organizer. She mouthed “I’ll text you” to her friend. Sorry – her mom’s new adopted son.
And for the first time since Jason had shown up, Claire felt free.
She led Noah to a garage of cars, and she put in the pin to let them into the side door.
The garage sat slightly apart from the manor, built of aged stone to match the house and far grander than its purpose strictly required, with wide wooden doors burnished smooth by decades of use.
Inside, the space was immaculate but unpretentious: flagstone floors worn pale at the center, timber beams darkened with age, and the faint, clean scent of oil and cold air.
A small collection of cars rested in quiet order rather than display. There was a well-kept vintage Bentley, a discreet modern saloon, and an older Land Rover bearing the honest marks of countryside use – each chosen for function, history, and longevity rather than excess.
Tools were arranged with methodical precision along one wall, shelves held labeled tins and folded blankets, and a single workbench bore the soft scars of careful maintenance.
Nothing gleamed for attention; everything was kept ready, maintained out of habit and respect, a space that spoke not of wealth seeking notice but of money that had never needed to announce itself.
Noah was taking in that they perhaps came from different worlds, New Zealand and England.
“Thank you…” She started to say.
“I’m sorry…” He said at the same time.
“You first,” she pleaded.
“I’m sorry,” he said, breaking first. “For turning up unannounced. When Kesley texted that you were in trouble, I just had to come. And, um, I was already in London with Luck and –”
Claire interrupted by letting out a breath, she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “You didn’t,” she said immediately. “You saved me.” She met his eyes, earnest and unguarded. “I don’t know how you did it so convincingly, but if you hadn’t… I don’t think I could’ve handled another minute of him.”
Noah gave a small, crooked smile. “I figured if I was going to interrupt some family’s Christmas, I’d better commit fully.”
Her gratitude softened into something warmer, steadier. “Well, thank you,” she said again, the word carrying far more weight this time.
He hesitated, then gestured toward the far car. “Let me take you out. Somewhere not here. There’s a chippie shop up the way. We don’t get to have proper fish and chips in Aotearoa.
She smiled for the first time that evening. “Are you taking me on a date, Noah Wilson?”
“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly. “I am.”
“A hero and a gentleman.”
He pulled out of the drive and onto the open street of London.