Twenty-Three
Isla
C hristmas morning with the Thornes is apocalyptic-level chaos.
The living room resembles ground zero in the aftermath of a festive disaster. Reusable wrapping paper, pillaged boxes, and colorful ribbons litter the floor like battlefield debris.
It takes all of two seconds for Felix and Rowan to weaponize their new snowboards, transforming the gifts into instruments of mass destruction.
“Take those outside before you carve up the hardwood!” Evangeline groans, rubbing her forehead. “ Again .”
“We’re not carving, Ma, we’re testing the flex,” Felix insists, hopping onto his board and narrowly missing the tree .
Evangeline shoots him a look that could incinerate said tree. One perfected over years of wrangling a gaggle of hyperactive children. “Go outside,” she says, voice dangerously calm, “or you can flex your way to another two-hour family video marathon.”
Graham looks up from the stockings he’s sorting to put away for next year. “Listen to your mother or it’s the embarrassing director’s cut this time. And don’t worry, we’ll invite that girl you’ve been hanging out with, Ro. What was her name again? Julia? Julie? Juni—”
“Okay, okay . That’s enough!” Rowan freezes, eyes wide. “I’m going.” He stuffs his snowboard under one arm and bolts for the door.
Felix shakes his head. “Cold move using Juno against him.”
Graham arches an eyebrow at Willow. “Remind me about Lix’s mystery crush—who is that, again?”
“Ugh. This family. I’m out!” Felix storms off, his dramatic stomps punctuating the burst of laughter from his sister and father.
As Willow and Graham dissect Felix’s love life—she insists he’s single, he’s convinced otherwise— I tug on my new knit hat from Evangeline and settle on the couch next to Asher.
“I was about to grab more hot chocolate.” He stands, motioning with his chin toward the kitchen. “Refill?”
I extend my empty mug. “Extra marshmallows, please.”
“A mountain of marshmallows with a splash of actual liquid—coming right up!”
Squaring my shoulders, I brace for an ostentatious holiday nickname. Thankfully, with his family no longer needing to be convinced of our passionate love affair, Asher spares me the torture .
I watch him head for the kitchen, but my attention drifts to Jovie, skipping with purpose toward the armchair where Theo sits with his hot chocolate.
“Teddy Bear?” Her voice drips hope. “Read to me?” She clutches her unicorn stuffy with one hand and extends my custom-made picture book with the other.
“Sure thing, Your Majesty.” Theo carefully deposits his mug on a side table before scooping her onto his lap.
“Isla!” Jovie beckons with her toy. “Come listen!”
I open my mouth to protest. Maybe if I explain that I made the story—so I already know every part—I can save myself from the temptation of Theo’s lap.
The commotion of the morning has done a decent job keeping my mind from luxuriating in the memory of last night, but his touch is still branded on my skin. Inside me. And my body aches for more.
“Lala!” I jump at Jovie’s cry.
Praise four-year-old speed bumps on the road to insanity.
“Sit next to me!” Her big, round eyes chip away at my defenses.
“Sure thing, Your Majesty.” I parrot Theo’s words.
Trading the couch for the chair, I settle on its broad, leather arm. Close enough to bask in their warmth, yet far enough to pretend it doesn’t affect me.
“Look!” Jovie beams, tracing her fingers over the front cover of the book. “It’s me and Stardust on a helping adventure!”
“It looks just like you,” Theo says, his gaze sliding to me. “Truly magical.”
Then he starts reading, his steady voice wrapping around us. Every so often, Jovie interrupts, acting out parts of the story with wild, sweeping gestures .
Though I’m proud of the art, I’m no writer. The words are simple, the storyline lifted from Jovie’s favorite cartoon. Still, her giggles make me feel like I’ve created a masterpiece.
“With Stardust by her side, smart, brave Jovie ventured into the deep, dark forest—”
“No, no, no!” Jovie gasps, grabbing his arm. “It’s not dark yet! The sun is up, see?” She taps the illustration with an impatient little huff.
Whoops .
Theo smirks, adjusting his tone. “With Stardust by her side, Jovie ventured into the slightly spooky but still well-lit forest…”
Jovie nods. “Good.”
I bite back a smile. “Had I known I’d have such a perceptive audience, I would’ve splurged on an editor.”
“It’s perfect,” Theo says, his thumb tracing over the soft blend of pastel colors I used to depict Stardust’s rainbow mane. “Really.”
The quiet sincerity in his voice bathes me in warmth. “I had time on my hands. The privilege of being jobless.”
He freezes mid–page turn, eyes snapping to mine. “Isla.” The two syllables of my name hang in the air—question, statement, and a quiet demand all at once. “ What ? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It’s a recent development.” So recent I’ve barely processed the shock.
I’m also still working on the whole stop-feeling-like-a-failure part.
“Keep going!” Jovie places her palm on Theo’s cheek, redirecting his focus to the book. “Do the ‘Kindness Rainbow’ song.”
“We’ll talk,” he says, gaze still locked with mine. “Later.”
I press my lips together. “Sure. Later. ”
With that, his attention swings back to Jovie, and he starts singing. It’s impossible not to get caught up in the scene—her tiny hands clapping, his deep voice somehow giving meaning to the corny lyrics. They’ve created their own little universe, and I’m being pulled into it.
The soft scent of Jovie’s peppermint shampoo mingles with the clean, woodsy notes of Theo’s cologne. I don’t even realize I’m leaning in, lured by the warmth between them, until my head floats dangerously close to Theo’s shoulder.
It’s the sudden flash of Willow’s phone camera that yanks me back to reality. I abruptly pull upright, cheeks burning.
“I’m obsessed with how cute the three of you look right now.” Willow snaps another picture. “You’re one lucky kid, Jojo. Between an auntie who creates picture books and an uncle who makes cartoons, I don’t think I’ve ever met a kid more spoiled by talent.”
“Cartoons?” Jovie and I ask simultaneously. Her question is aimed at her mom, while mine heads for Theo.
Theo’s jaw tightens for a moment as he glares at Willow. “ Really , Will?”
“What?” His sister gives him an innocent shrug. “You said it was her Christmas present. A cartoon about Stardust and—”
“Stardust cartoon?!” Jovie vibrates with excitement, my book forgotten. “Show me! Show me!” She nearly tumbles off his lap. “Pretty please, Teddy Bear?”
“Yes, show us,” I urge, leaning closer.
“I was going to wait until your birthday next month,” Theo explains, reaching for his phone. “You already got such a nice story about Stardust from Isla.”
“I don’t mind sharing the spotlight,” I assure him.
Unlocking his cell, he angles the screen so we can both see.
“Theo!” I gasp as the video boots up. “This is… wow . ”
Vibrant colors, seamless motion, and characters so realistic they could leap off the screen—the whole thing looks like it’s been lifted straight from a primetime children’s show.
An animated version of Jovie stands in a forest clearing beside a unicorn that looks exactly like her stuffy.
“ When you can’t do something ,” it tells her, “ just add yet. I can’t fly…yet .”
Cartoon Jovie climbs onto a tree stump, arms stretched wide, face scrunched in determination. “ We can’t fly yet, Chirpy, but we’ll practice until we can .”
A baby bird watches as she flaps wildly and launches off, only to tumble into a pile of leaves.
She gasps, hands flying to her cheeks. “ Oh, no! I fell. How will I teach Chirpy now? ”
“ That’s okay ,” Stardust says gently. “ Helping takes practice, too. Don’t give up .”
Jovie sits up, shaking leaves from her hair, and walks over to the bird so they can try again.
This time, she stays upright, touching down on the ground with both feet. The little bird also successfully wobbles into flight, landing on a nearby branch.
“Look! I did it!” Real Jovie mirrors her cartoon self, leaping off Theo’s lap like she’s also flying. “I did it! I helped!”
Theo tousles her hair. “Because you didn’t give up.”
I’m transfixed. The level of detail, the way he’s captured Jovie’s expressions perfectly—this wasn’t some quick, half-hearted project. It’s a labor of love and devotion arranged in pixels.
“ Incredible doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I whisper in awe.
Theo’s fingers flex against the screen. “I had some help. My team is great about banding together wh—”
He stops, but I don’t react fast enough to hide the crack in my composure. I’ve never had that. That feeling of belonging at work.
His mouth thins into a tight line, but I just shrug.
It isn’t his fault I spent two years in a boys’ club that tore at my confidence before dumping me with a condescending smile.
Jovie saves the moment by snatching Theo’s phone. “Gotta show Jelly!” she declares, sprinting off toward Evangeline.
Theo shakes his head and laughs. “I’m never getting that phone back, huh?”
“Trust me, it’s better that way. Last time she got her little paws on mine, it came back sticky. She has a thing for picking marshmallows straight out of the hot chocolate.”
“Kind of like someone else I know.” His laughter lingers, but something shifts when he turns to me.
“Your book is really good, Isla. Really good. Your use of color brings everything to life. You had both Jovie and me hooked from page one.” His gaze meets mine.
“If I’d known we’d have the same idea for her gift, I would’ve coaxed you into teaming up. ”
I arch an eyebrow, fighting to keep my expression neutral despite the treacherous flutter in my chest. “Teaming up? As I recall, we weren’t exactly on speaking terms.”
“Next year,” Theo says simply.
Two words that carry more weight than I’m able to hold.
Next year .
As if there’s no doubt about it. His casual certainty sends warmth through me that has nothing to do with the nearby fireplace.
I search his face. “You haven’t been around for Christmas since I started spending it with your family.”
“That needs to change,” he mutters, throat bobbing on a hard swallow. “For my family. And for—”
The rest of Theo’s sentence is interrupted by the loud bang of the front door swinging open. A gust of cold air sweeps in, followed by Felix and Rowan. The twins stomp snow from their boots while in a heated debate about technique.
Almost simultaneously, Asher strides in from the kitchen, face flushed with excitement. No hot chocolate or marshmallows in sight.
Damn .
“I have an announcement,” he declares, voice cutting through his brothers’ argument.
Evangeline slides her attention from the phone that Jovie is holding so close to her face the device is almost kissing her nose. “I believe you’ve used up your quota of announcements for the season, dear.”
“I know, but this one can’t wait.” Asher grins, rocking on his heels. “I’m going on Sienna’s honeymoon.”
A beat of stunned silence falls over the room.
Then… pandemonium .
“Does she know?” his mother asks.
“Will she be there?” Willow adds.
“You’re crashing your ex’s honeymoon?” Rowan drawls, stretching out the question like it’s a mental puzzle he’s trying to solve. “While her fiancé rots in jail?”
“Power move,” Felix chimes in. “Reality TV gold. You couldn’t script a messier situation.”
“Your bright idea, I suppose?” Graham asks. “Have you thought this through, son? When you and Sienna broke up—”
“Wait!” Willow jumps up, hand clasped over mouth. “Are you getting back together?”
Jovie looks around in confusion, her big eyes darting from face to face. “Where are you going, Uncle Ash? ”
Ignoring the adults, he answers Jovie. “Hawaii. Two weeks. Three islands. The trip was already booked, and Sienna didn’t want to go alone.”
“So you volunteered your services.” Felix snickers, shaking flecks of ice out of his hair. “How noble.”
Sienna could buy a private island on a whim. Losing out on a deposit—even one as grand as this trip sounds—wouldn’t scratch her savings. This thing between them clearly has to do with more than mere cancellation fees.
“Let me guess,” Rowan adds, plopping down by the fireplace. “There’s only one bed?”
Asher’s cheeks color slightly, but his grin doesn’t falter. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends. And these hotels are super fancy. The suites have multiple bedrooms.”
“All of which will be put to good use, I’m sure,” Felix teases with an exaggerated wink. “You can roleplay Goldilocks.”
The room erupts in teasing hoots that grow louder and bolder by the second.
My gaze drifts over the scene. Willow laughs as she documents Asher’s blush while Felix and Rowan flank him with matching shit-eating grins.
Evangeline sighs theatrically, and Graham sports one of his easygoing smiles as they watch their kids in action.
Jovie’s giggles round out the soundtrack of all the love filling the space.
These people are my anchors in a world that’s constantly shifting beneath my feet. And when Jovie climbs back onto Theo’s lap, demanding we compare my book to his cartoon—page for frame—something inside me clicks into place.
Something that feels remarkably like belonging.
When Theo says next year again, promising Jovie a whole series of cartoons by next Christmas, I find myself believing in that future .
I’ve spent my life bracing for goodbye .
Next year feels revolutionary.
Possible, even.
I lean into the warmth. Just a little.
And this time, I don’t pull away when the flash goes off.