But in sleep, she curls into me like she belongs there, like the past six years of professional distance never existed.She shifts slightly, unconsciously nestling closer, and my arm tightens reflexively around her waist.
I could tell her the truth.I could reveal that I’ve been in love with her since I met her.But I have a feeling she won’t take it well.Not when Chase is going to be a constant reminder of how she was betrayed by a man she trusted in for years.
When she returned last year after New Year’s, I could sense the change in her—a quietness that I’d never seen before, a listlessness.I would often catch her spacing out.But I thought she was overworked, so I tried to take on some of her responsibilities.If I’d known back then she had broken up with her boyfriend, I would have started pursuing her.
Olivia isn’t the type of girl one can win over with grand gestures.At least that is my understanding of her.She’s not someone I can shower with jewelry to capture her heart, but I saw the way her gaze softened when she was watching me with her father last evening.Her family.She loves her family.I have to win them over first.
These four weeks are all I have before she forces us back in our designated roles as boss and employee.I plan to spend every minute showing her why I’m the best choice for her.
“No, you can’t put marshmallows in your pants, Alexander.”
Olivia’s sleepy words startle me, and when I look closer, she’s still fast asleep.My lips twitch as I lean closer.She’s still mumbling.“You’ll become a marshmallow.Don’t do it.”I stifle my laughter with my hand and gaze down adoringly at her.So this is what she talks about in her sleep.
Shaking my head, I pull the blanket over her before carefully extracting myself from her grasp.Just because I’m on vacation, that’s no excuse to stop my daily run.Olivia reaches for me, and I have to steel myself against the temptation to slide back under the covers, to pull her close again, to pretend for a few more hours that this is real.
But discipline has governed my life for too long to abandon it now.
I pull on a long-sleeved thermal shirt, long athletic pants, and running shoes, grabbing my hat and gloves.A final glance at Olivia shows she’s claimed my pillow as a replacement, her face serene and unguarded.Without the careful composure she maintains at work, she looks younger, somehow more herself.
I brush a strand of hair from her cheek, my touch light as a whisper.She sighs in her sleep, leaning into my palm.It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to walk away.
The house is silent, the kind of perfect stillness that only exists in the pre-dawn hours.I make my way downstairs, careful to avoid the creaky third step.The kitchen is dark, illuminated only by the pale blue glow of the microwave clock and the small nightlight plugged in near the sink.On the couch there’s a half-finished sweater with the knitting needles resting on it.I pause to take a look at it.It has Olivia’s name on it.
Her mother knits her sweaters.
I smile softly.Making sure not to disturb anything, I leave.
The cold hits me like a slap, filling my lungs with an invigorating chill that Manhattan’s polluted atmosphere could never provide.The sky is still completely dark, stars visible in a way they never are in New York.December means late sunrises—it won’t begin to lighten for another couple of hours at least.Main Street will be my destination.I memorized the route yesterday.
I set off at a brisk pace.The streets are deserted at this hour, the snow from yesterday unmarred except for the occasional animal track.Christmas lights twinkle from nearly every house, front yards populated with inflatable snowmen and reindeer that stand sentinel in the darkness.One house has a full nativity scene illuminated by a spotlight.Another displays wooden cutouts of cartoon characters in Santa hats.It’s excessive, borderline tacky, and yet there’s something sincere about it I find oddly appealing.I always thought people turned off these lights before going to bed to conserve electricity, but I guess not in Silverbell Hollow.They really like their Christmas.
As I reach Main Street, I slow my pace to a walk to take it all in.Without the daytime crowds, the decorations seem even more spectacular, the silver bells reflecting the moonlight and glinting like stars brought down to earth.Storefronts glow with festive displays, even though the shops themselves won’t open for hours.The massive tree in the town square stands as the centerpiece, its thousands of lights reflecting off the snow.
I can’t remember the last time I really looked at Christmas decorations.In New York, I pass them without seeing them, too focused on the next meeting, the next acquisition.The holidays have always been something to be managed, not enjoyed.
When I was a child, Christmas was a stark reminder of what we didn’t have.My father worked three jobs trying to keep us afloat, and I started working as soon as I legally could.While other kids were hanging ornaments and writing letters to Santa, I was developing business plans and learning how to read financial statements.By fifteen, I was obsessed with building something that could never be taken away.
The bitter irony?By the time my father’s construction business finally took off when I was seventeen, I was already too busy with my own ventures to notice.
I walk over to the large Christmas tree.In the stillness with no one to see, I pull off a glove and reach out to touch one of the lower branches, feeling the soft needles against my fingertips.The scent of pine rises, sharp and sweet.
I’m sent to the past, recalling the memory of my mother decorating the house elaborately that first year they could afford it.She bought my brothers everything they wanted.I stayed at my desk, working, when they went to pick out a tree.She never asked me if I wanted to go.When she took my brothers ice skating, she just asked me to make sure I locked the front door.
Christmas has never been about family for me the way it is for Olivia and her family.In my home it was about my parents and my brothers.In some ways, it felt like my parents had gotten the chance to redo parenthood, and I became an outsider to their perfect little family.I never cared back then, my focus on chasing success, to make sure I never worried over money the way my father once did.
Now I’m thirty-five, standing alone on the empty main street of a small town in the dark hours of the morning, surrounded by Christmas lights and the quiet beauty of new snow, and I’m wondering what I’ve been missing all these years.
Olivia’s family didn’t think Christmas was complete without her.That’s why her father held off on decorating the yard and the house, on getting the tree.That’s why her mother still knitted a sweater with Olivia’s name on it.They’ve built a life here that’s warm and real and connected.
I make a mental note to arrange regular visits after we return to New York.Private jet service to make the trip easier.Perhaps fly her parents out for weekends in the city.Olivia will like that.
The stars are still bright overhead, though the faintest hint of dark blue is beginning to replace the black at the eastern horizon.I should head back—I’ve been gone nearly half an hour.But before I turn around, I notice something I missed yesterday: a small wooden nativity scene nestled under the tree.It’s clearly hand-carved, the figures simple but expressive.A small plaque indicates it was made by a local artisan fifty years ago.This piece of the town’s history, preserved and displayed with such care.It speaks to something I’ve always dismissed as sentimentality but now recognize as community.My chest tightens, and I find I want to know what it feels like to belong to something bigger than myself.
I slip my glove back on and make my way back to the Hartley home, thinking about Olivia’s reaction to my behavior.Her confusion.Her suspicion.The way she looks at me like I’m a stranger wearing her boss’s face.It’s amusing, honestly.All these years, I’ve kept her at a careful distance, not because I wanted to but because I had to.
I’ve been attracted to Olivia since the day she walked into my office, eyes bright with determination despite her obvious nerves.That attraction morphed into something else when I spent six months working so closely with her to repair the damage my company had taken.Doubt at her skills changed to admiration and respect at her tenacity.She learned and absorbed everything almost instantly.For someone with so little experience, she became my right hand person and someone I began to rely on.
But she was taken, committed to the hometown boyfriend she spoke of occasionally.I don’t poach.I don’t cheat.And I certainly don’t pursue women who are in relationships, no matter how much I might want to.
