From across the room, Daniel looked up, clearly having overheard. Their eyes met, and something passed between them—understanding, perhaps, or recognition of a shared belief. His gaze was steady, encouraging, as if he’d stand behind that statement for anyone…including her.
“Your dad is right,” Holly said softly, still holding his gaze. “It’s never too late.”
The moment was broken by a crash and a startled cry. Teddy had tried to stand up too quickly and knocked over a stack of books, losing his balance in the process. He landed hard on his bottom, his face crumpling in that split second before tears.
Holly reacted without thinking. She was beside him in an instant, gathering him into her arms before his first sob could fully form.
“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” she murmured, stroking his hair. “Just a little tumble. You’re all right.” Her whole body seemed to move on instinct, every protective impulse surging to the surface as if he werehers.
Teddy’s small arms went around her neck, his face pressing into her shoulder as he hiccupped a tiny sob. “I hit my elbow.”
“Let me see,” Holly said, gently examining the “injury” which, thankfully, was nothing more than a slight red mark. She pressed a soft kiss to it anyway. “There. Magic kiss. Better?”
Teddy nodded solemnly, tears already forgotten. “Magic kisses always work.”
It was only then that Holly became aware of Daniel standing nearby, watching them with an expression that made her breath catch. There was something in his eyes—a softness, a vulnerability—that seemed to reach right inside her and touch places she’d kept carefully guarded.
He looked…moved, almost undone, and the realization that she could affect him like that sent her heart into a stutter.
“They do, don’t they?” Daniel said, his voice rough with emotion. “Holly’s got good magic.”
The simple statement, delivered with such genuine warmth, made Holly’s chest ache with a feeling she wasn’t ready to name.She carefully released Teddy, suddenly self-conscious about overstepping.
“Sorry, I just…”
“Don’t apologize,” Daniel interrupted gently. “That was exactly right.”
She basked in the approval, and Holly found herself smiling despite the confusion swirling inside her. What was she doing? Getting attached to these children, this man, this life that wasn’t hers?
Yesterday, ready to promise forever to someone else. The letter that had saved her from that mistake was still folded in her purse, wherever she left it before she’d made her frantic escape.
The words had been simple but profound. An awakening.
Now here she was, playing house with a family that belonged to someone else, feeling more at home than she ever had with the man she’d nearly married.
“Who wants hot chocolate?” Daniel asked, breaking into her thoughts. “I think we’ve earned another round.”
“Me!” both children chorused, the earlier incident completely forgotten.
“Holly?” Daniel’s eyes found hers, a question in them that seemed to go beyond hot chocolate.
“I’d love some,” she said, and meant it more than she should.
As Daniel disappeared into the kitchen, Maisie tugged at Holly’s sleeve. “Can we watch a Christmas movie now? Dad always lets us watch movies on snow days.”
“That sounds perfect,” Holly agreed, grateful for the distraction from her increasingly complicated thoughts.
By the time Daniel returned with a tray of hot chocolate—each mug topped with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon,just as they’d had the night before—the children had selected “Elf” and were arranging cushions on the sofa.
“Sit by me, Holly,” Teddy patted the space beside him. “You can share my blanket.”
“No, sit in the middle,” Maisie countered. “Then we can both sit next to you.”
Holly looked to Daniel, uncertain, but he just smiled. “Better do as they say. They drive a hard bargain.”
So she found herself in the center of the sofa, a child on either side of her, while Daniel settled into the armchair adjacent. As the movie began, both children snuggled closer, their small bodies warm against her. Their warmth and the weight of their trust enveloped her like the shared blanket draped across their laps.
As Buddy the Elf bounced through the bustling streets of New York, spreading cheer and singing loudly, Holly found herself only half-watching. Instead, her attention kept drifting to the domestic scene before her. Maisie’s head gradually tilted to rest against her shoulder. Teddy’s small fingers played absently with the sleeve of her borrowed sweater. This easy physical affection from children she barely knew stirred something primal in her chest.
