34
Christmas morning arrived too brightly.
Claire woke to Merry Christmas texts coming through her cell phone.
She couldn’t bear to look at them due to the dull throb behind her eyes and the unmistakable taste of regret coating her tongue.
The room smells faintly of pine and clean linens, but her body feels like it had been assembled incorrectly.
She groaned and buried her face into the pillow just as there was a soft knock at the door.
It opened a moment later.
Noah stepped in quietly, already dressed for the day in a Christmas jumper and medium washed jeans. In one hand was a glass rimmed with salt and in the other a glass of water.
“A Bloody Mary,” he said, low and careful. “Your mum thought you might appreciate that. Heavy on the tomato. Light on everything else. Coffee is downstairs.”
Claire cracked one eye open. “You might be my favorite person,” she murmured, pushing herself up against the headboard. Her head pounded immediately in protest. He handed it to her, fingers brushing hers just briefly.
“How bad was I?” she asked, taking a cautious sip.
Noah's mouth curved. “You danced.”
“That’s it?” She squinted at him. “I feel like I should remember more than dancing.”
“You drank a little, too. But I’ve seen worse.” Claire didn’t believe him.
“You’re being generous with me, aren’t you?”
“I play rugby, remember? I promise you, I’ve seen worse.” Claire scoffed. “We got tired, so we came back early,” he added.
Noah sat down next to Claire, still tucked under the covers. She noticed her clothes were different.
“Did we…?” she asked him.
“No,” Noah said, confirming that they did not sleep together the night before. “I did help you change though; you were pretty out of it.”
“Oh my God,” Claire said, putting her hand up to her forehead in embarrassment.
She took a sip of the tomato drink, and it began to work its magic.
She had no memory of a moonlit room filled with a potpourri of foliage, of champagne bottles abandoned among citrus trees or of the way they kissed, so passionately.
“We are downstairs, when you’re ready,” Noah said, placing a kiss on Claire’s forehead, and then stood before casually walking to the door.
Downstairs, the Ashford dining room is dense with Christmas morning warmth.
The smell of freshly made coffee, the group of them nursing hangovers from a night of revelry and questionable decisions.
Claire made her way down the stairs, holding her half-drunk Bloody Mary, as the front door opened and Kelsey stumbled in.
He was a sight for sore eyes. His coat was half-buttoned, tuxedo disheveled from the night before, hair a disaster, sunglasses on despite being indoors.
“Oh good,” he said cheerfully, taking her drink. “Breakfast.”
He took a swig of everything left in the salt rimmed glass and handed it back to an unamused Claire.
Suzanne looked up from her coffee and pastry, eyes lighting instantly. “You look like someone who had an evening.”
Cornelius, already in deep concentration with the Christmas Crossword, looked at Kelsey with love, “Get some coffee dear boy, the day is still young.”
Kelsey collapsed into a chair beside Suzanne with a dramatic sigh. “The ball was scandalous. Absolutely scandalous.”
Claire’s father chuckled from across the table while Suzanne leaned in, delighted. “Do tell.”
“Well,” Kelsey said, lowering his voice theatrically, “You know the Marquess of Whitcombe?”
“Yeah,” confirmed Suzanne.
“His business trip to Zurich was actually a three-day detox after he was caught crying in a private members’ club over a twenty-five-year-old Pilates instructor who dumped him.”
Suzanne gasped. “I knew it.”
“– and, the woman who was with the Countess of Fairleigh, I can confirm it was her companion, if you know what I mean.” He sipped a black coffee. “Lesbi-honest… you know what I mean, Suzy.”
Suzanne was in shock. “Scandalous is an understatement.” Suzanne pressed her hand to her chest. “And… did you meet Arthur?”
“Oh…” Kesley slyly responded. “I met Arthur. I met him in almost every room of the house."
“He’s a duke, you know?” interrupted Claire’s father.
In the doorway, Noah paused.
Kelsey’s eyes flicked up and caught him there. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face.
“I knew him in every room except for the conservatory, because it was already occupado.” He stared directly at Noah. Noah met his gaze for exactly one second with a warning for Kesley to stop.
Kelsey grinned wider.
“I wonder who was in there…” Suzanne inquired.
“Yeah… me too…” said Kesley, eying Noah.
Just after noon, there is a knock at the door. Suzanne answered the door first. Jason was at the door, snow-bright sunlight still clinging to his coat, arms full of wrapped boxes and an expression that screamed, please let me in.
“Jason,” she said, surprised but impeccably polite from decades of practice. “Merry Christmas.”
“For you,” he said smoothly, handing her a stack of neatly wrapped gifts. Cornelius, at the door to help his wife, accepted the gifts. In Jason’s hand, was a smaller, third box, wrapped in glossy wrapped paper.
“And this,” Jason said, stepping past them, eyes searching the kitchen, “is for Claire.”
Claire and Noah were together in the kitchen, when they suddenly heard Claire’s name and stopped their conversation to see who was in the foyer.
They froze when they saw him. Noah straightened, becoming uneasy with the spontaneousness of Jason being in the house. He pushed the box into her free hand.
“You didn’t have to–” she began.
“Open it,” Jason said, too quickly.
The room stilled.
“You know what?” said Suzanne, interrupting the moment. “We will be opening some gifts soon, why don’t you stay for some cocktails and the King’s message?”
“I would love to,” agreed Jace, already taking off his jacket and hanging it in the coat room adjacent to the entry.
Noah was not happy about this development, and it was visible on his face. Neither was Kelsey from the looks of it. It took every inch of Kelsey to not text into the group chat to complain to his friends and it took Noah every inch of himself to not punch Jason right in his stupid, dumb head.
“You two need to change your face,” Suzanne whispered to the boys. But they didn’t.
The hour that followed was excruciatingly painful.
Jason dominated the conversation, skirting lines of old stories about Claire, talking about rugby and how much fun it is despite the lack of padding and how it hurts so much more than football. He glanced at Claire just a little too long. Every laugh was forced, and every silence stretched.
Noah said very little. He watched. He noticed everything.
Claire sat cross-legged on the floor between Noah and the tree, cheeks warm with laughter as her mother insisted on photographing everything.
Noah looked slightly out of place at first, but he relaxed as Kelsey narrated each gift with theatrical flair, declaring socks “an emotional journey” and a scarf “deeply symbolic.” Claire’s father passed Noah a neatly wrapped box with a knowing smile, and when Noah opened it, it was an English Rugby Kit signed by the legendary Martin Johnson, a “personal friend of his”.
It was a loving and thoughtful gift that left Noah and Kelsey both stunned.
“Suzy is a goddess,” Kelsey leaned whispering to Noah. “I have no idea how she sourced that at the last minute. Truly impressive.”
Suzanne even had an emergency gift for anyone who just randomly showed up at their door for Christmas, like what Jason had just done to the family.
Noah handed Claire a wrapped gift, about the size of his hand.
“For you,” he said, reserved.
Claire carefully unwrapped the present and saw a Totara wood box carved with two aquamarine gems placed into the center of swirling circles and intricate designs.
Kelsey gasped, knowing exactly what this little box was. “It’s a Wakahuia treasure box,” he said to Claire.
Claire looked at Noah with amazement, “Noah, did you make this?”
“Yeah,” he seemed nervous, “Do you… like it?”
“It’s incredible,” Claire beamed.
“What’s inside?” Kelsey asked, trying to get a good look at the contents.
Claire lifted the flap and inside the box was a hairpin carved of solid bone. The pin had similar markings to Noah’s tattoos, all coming to a rounded top.
“It’s called a heru,” Noah explained. “This one… is carved of… bone.” He was hesitant.
Claire looked at Noah and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I love it, thank you.”
Jason rolled his eyes and murmured “barf” under his breath.
For a moment, amid the teasing and the clink of glasses, to Claire, it felt less like a holiday performance and more like something real. Like a borrowed family, a shared warmth, and a Christmas memory none of them would forget.
There was one box left, the one from Jason to Claire. Noah was sitting next to Claire on the ground, looking perfectly comfortable when Jason made the comment “last one!”
Claire reluctantly reached for the last gift, knowing that something inappropriate from Jason would likely be inside.
He has always been an awful gift-giver. She unfastened the bow on top, unwrapped the paper, and exposed the thin black box beneath.
She lifted the lid, and inside, there was a calendar.
A calendar of Jason…’s dick. The gift that Jace so eagerly wanted Claire to open, in front of what he thought was her boyfriend, and her parents, was a calendar of himself completely naked.
Each page, he was posed with deliberate confidence.
Tasteful lighting, sure. Artistic angles, yes. But gross, also yes.
Noah was enraged. “Dude, what the fuck?”
“Oh my God,” Kelsey laughed and took the calendar out of Claire’s hands. “Yes, I love Christmas.” He looked at Claire. “Can I keep this?”
“Jason…” Claire said. She was speechless. Stunned.
“What is it?” Cornelius asked, and Suzanne was also curious.
Kelsey quickly responded. “Nothing important,” and hurriedly placed the calendar back in the box.
“Something to remember me by,” Jason said to Claire with a self-assured smirk. His eyes flicked deliberately – to Noah.
Luckily for Claire, she didn’t need to respond more.
The TV was tuned to the King's speech and at 3pm on the dot, Cornelius hushed the family. The speech started and ended, and Claire’s parents said their goodbyes to Jason, hopefully forever.
Kelsey also hoped that this was the last time they would ever have to meet that loser outside of rugby, however, he was ready to pummel this guy on the pitch.
Noah stepped forward without being asked. “I’ll walk you out.”
Jason's smile sharpened. “Of course you will.”
Outside the cold bit immediately. The door closed behind them with quiet finality.
Jason turned, amusement gone. “You think you’ve won something? You think you’re better than me?”
Noah didn’t raise his voice. “Yes. I do.”
Jason stepped closer. “You’re just a phase. Men like me… we don’t lose.”
Noah met his stare, unmoving. “You already lost, mate.”
Jason scoffed. “Careful.”
Noah leaned in just enough for the words to land. “If you want to measure yourself against me,” he said calmly, “do it where it matters.”
Jason’s eyes flicked with recognition, anger, interest.
“The pitch,” Noah added.
A slow smile crept across Jason’s face. “I’ll be seeing you, asshole.”
“Count on it.”
Once Jason was in his car and down the driveway, Noah opened the door and stepped back inside, the dismissal unmistakable. He was ready to settle this, under stadium lights, on grass torn up by boots and by the battle of rugby.
For now, he stood looking into the sitting room where a massive Christmas tree was settled in the corner, and sitting there amongst her family was Dr. Claire Ashford.
He knew that this version of themselves will end, real life will resume in the next couple days, and he will be back into training before the New Year, leaving the dream of being with Claire, exactly where it was… in his dreams.