Chapter 24 #2
Vanessa leaned forward across the table, hoping she could make her friend understand.
“Imogen, listen to me. Yes, we arranged for you to be Lincoln’s Secret Santa, and him to be yours.
And yes, we organized the sleigh ride. But we couldn’t arrange his reactions to those things.
We couldn’t make him look at you the way he does—like you’re the most beautiful, fascinating woman he’s ever seen.
We couldn’t force him to remember your teenage conversations well enough to choose the perfect gift.
And we definitely couldn’t orchestrate the way you two talked and laughed together during that sleigh ride. ”
“But what if he was just being kind?” Imogen asked, pushing a piece of hair out of her face. “What if he felt obligated to make the best of an awkward situation?”
“So explain the rest of it,” Vanessa challenged.
“Him bringing you lunch? Or going out of his way to pick up his orders at your shop to make things easier on you? What about him building Katie’s bike for her, and all the extra time he spends on her lessons?
Or the way he lights up every time you show up at the rink?
He looks for excuses to see you and talk to you, Imogen, and he did that way before Mabel and I started meddling…
which, again, I am so sorry for. But we didn’t create the idea for that out of thin air.
We just nudged you to spend more time together. ”
Imogen was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking through what Vanessa had said.
“And, explain why he’s so miserable today because he thinks you’re pushing him away. If he was just being polite, then why would he be so upset? He’d be relieved to not have to fake it any longer.”
“I…” Imogen began, then stopped, her expression softening.
“I know we did the wrong thing, but please don’t let our well-meaning mistakes make you lose sight of what’s right in front of you.
You deserve love and happiness, Imogen, with whoever that might be that you would want it with.
And if that person is the guy who used to be your person all those years ago, and you have a chance at that love story, you should go for it.
Not overthink it until you lose any chance at having something with him again. ”
Imogen stared down at her plate, toying with a French fry. “I did feel different with him,” she admitted. “More like myself, somehow. Like I could stop trying so hard and just… be. I felt special. Seen. The extra time we’ve spent together the last couple of weeks has meant a lot to me.”
“Exactly,” Vanessa said. “That’s real. It’s not because of anything we did.”
“But what if I’m wrong?” Imogen looked at Vanessa worriedly. “What if I’m seeing what I want to see instead of what’s actually there?”
Vanessa reached over and squeezed Imogen’s hand. “Then at least you’ll know for sure. But I feel very sure that you’re not imagining anything. And there’s only one way to find out.”
Imogen took a deep breath, nodding, and Vanessa felt a wave of relief.
“Okay,” Imogen said finally. “Okay. I’ll go talk to him.”
The rink was all closed down for the evening, and Lincoln was getting ready to run the Zamboni as he finished up his last tasks.
But he didn’t feel entirely ready to leave for the evening.
His head felt muddled with thoughts about the way he’d left things with Imogen, and Vanessa’s promise to fix things, which he didn’t feel at all confident about.
He wanted to reach out to Imogen again, but he knew that would be a mistake.
So he was just left worrying and anxious, which wasn’t a state he was usually in.
He didn’t like it, and he needed to clear his head. He didn’t have anywhere that he needed to be at the moment, and no reason to rush home, so he decided to skate by himself for a bit. That always helped him think through things, if he needed it. And the ice was one of his favorite places to be.
Lincoln laced up his skates and glided out onto the ice, closing his eyes briefly.
He felt even more confused after his conversation with Vanessa.
She’d seemed so sure that there was a connection between him and Imogen, but that didn’t fit with what he’d gotten from her the morning of the photoshoot.
He thought she was having doubts about what had happened between them, and he didn’t see any way to make himself feel better about it.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Imogen had looked at him during their sleigh ride as they’d reminisced about their past, the way she’d felt curled against him under his coat, the moment when he’d almost kissed her.
It had all felt real, natural, like it had been meant to be all along and they’d just needed time to catch up.
But maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe he’d been so eager for it to be real that he’d projected feelings onto what had happened that hadn’t really been there. Maybe her distance was her way of gently letting him down.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t realize until he saw a flash of movement at the railing out of the corner of his eye that he wasn’t alone.
His heart nearly stopped as he saw Imogen standing there, wearing jeans and a soft dark green sweater.
Her cheeks were pink from the cold outside air, and her hair had escaped some of her ponytail, giving her a slightly windswept appearance that made her look younger and more like the girl he’d fallen for in high school.
“Hi,” she called out, her voice carrying clearly across the empty rink.
“Hi,” Lincoln managed, coming to a stop in the center of the rink as he looked at her. The air felt charged with everything they hadn’t said to each other, and he could hear his heart beating in his ears.
“Do you remember,” Imogen said finally, stepping closer to the entrance, “how we used to skate here when we were teenagers? Back when it was the old community center with that terrible ice surface that was always bumpy?”
Lincoln felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I remember catching you every time you fell.”
“Which was a lot.” Imogen smiled. “I spent more time falling down than actually skating. Did you ever think, back then, that you’d end up owning this place someday?”
“Never,” Lincoln admitted, skating slowly closer to where she stood. “I thought maybe I’d become a professional hockey player, or at least play college hockey somewhere. Owning a rink seemed like something adults did, not something I’d ever be old enough or responsible enough to handle.”
“And now look at you,” Imogen said, gesturing at the space around them. “You’ve created something amazing here. A place where kids can learn to love skating the way you do, where people make memories together. It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Lincoln paused, touched by the genuine admiration in her voice. “That means a lot, especially coming from someone who’s built something equally amazing with her own business.”
Imogen stepped onto the ice, and he realized with a start that she had her own skates on. He watched, stunned, as she glided across the ice to where he was stopped. She started to skate forward, and he went with her, tugged along as if he couldn’t help but follow.
“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath as they began a slow glide around the perimeter of the rink. “I owe you an explanation for why I’ve been so strange the past couple of days.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” Lincoln looked at her. “I’m sorry if I was too much.”
“I do though, and you weren’t,” Imogen insisted. “Because I’ve been handling this situation badly, and you deserve to know why.”
They skated in silence for half a lap while Imogen seemed to gather her thoughts. “Mabel told me about the matchmaking,” she said finally. “And Vanessa came to talk to me. She wanted me to see that things between us weren’t just because they were pushing us together.”
Lincoln nodded, his stomach swooping. “And you’ve been wondering whether my feelings were genuine or whether I was just going along with their scheme.”
“Exactly,” Imogen said, relief evident in her voice. “I didn’t know if you were aware of what they were doing, if you were playing a role they’d assigned you or if your reactions were real.”
Lincoln stopped skating abruptly, turning to face her directly. “Imogen, I had no idea about any of it. The Secret Santa pairing, the sleigh ride—I was just as surprised and confused by everything as you were.”
“Really?” she asked, searching his face intently.
“Really,” Lincoln confirmed. “I thought it was all strange and coincidental, but I never suspected that our friends were pulling strings behind the scenes.”
“So when you seemed happy to see me, when we talked about the past and how much fun we used to have…” Imogen trailed off, hope flickering in her eyes.
“All genuine,” Lincoln assured her. “Every moment of it.”
They stood facing each other in the middle of the ice, and Lincoln could see some of the tension leaving Imogen’s shoulders as his words sank in.
“There was something there for me too,” Imogen admitted softly, her cheeks flushing.
He could hear the nervousness in her voice.
“Thinking about what gift to get you, talking about the way things used to be on the sleigh ride… it made me wonder if there was more to this than we were admitting. I think there’s always been a flame still there, and this fanned it, even though I told myself we were just friends.
You remembering my lunch really pushed it along,” she added with a nervous laugh.
Lincoln felt his heart expand in his chest, relief and joy flooding through him as he finally heard the words he’d been hoping for.
“I’ve been feeling the same way,” he said softly.
“I kept finding excuses to be wherever you were because I wanted to see you smile, wanted to hear you laugh. The Secret Santa gift, the sleigh ride—they didn’t make me care about you.
They just gave me opportunities to show feelings that were already there.
What Mabel and Vanessa were trying to do definitely worked, even if they were a little misguided about it all. ”
Lincoln reached up to brush a gentle hand along Imogen’s cheek, his chest warming at the way she instantly leaned into his touch.
“This thing between us,” he said, his voice low and firm, “it’s real. It’s not the result of our friends’ meddling or holiday magic or anything else external. It’s just us, and what we’ve always meant to each other. We just took a long time to admit it to each other.”
Tears welled in Imogen’s eyes. Lincoln watched as one spilled over and slid down her cheek, and he carefully wiped it away with his thumb.
“Don’t cry,” he said gently.
“I can’t help it,” Imogen said with a shaky laugh. “I’m just so relieved. And happy. And so sorry for pushing you away when all you were trying to do was check on me.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Lincoln assured her. “I understand why you were confused and needed time to sort through everything.”
“I did.” Imogen swallowed hard. “But now… now everything is okay, isn’t it?”
“Better than okay,” Lincoln confirmed. “And you know what would make it even better? Skating around this rink with you, that I own, like we used to.”
Imogen laughed. “That was always your solution when we were teenagers. Go skate it out.”
“And it always worked, didn’t it?” Lincoln shot back, laughing along with her.
He reached out, taking her hand and linking their fingers together.
They started another circuit around the ice, laughing and talking about all the things they hadn’t caught up on since the sleigh ride—everything and nothing.
Imogen let go of his hand to do a little spin on the ice, and Lincoln reached for her to pull her back in, leaning them both up against the railing as he brought her face close to his.
“I know there are a lot of logistics to work out. I know you have your life and I have mine, and I know making this serious complicates things. But I want to find out what it’s like to be with you again.
I want to give this a chance. What do you think?
” He looked at her softly, his heart in his eyes. “Can we give this another try?”
Imogen’s eyes welled up, and she nodded, a smile on her lips. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, absolutely.”
And then, the way he’d wanted to that night in the sleigh, he leaned in and kissed her. She felt soft and warm and perfect in his arms, like he remembered and new all at once, and he never wanted to stop holding her there on the ice, in this moment that they’d created for themselves.
He was the happiest man in the world.