“What happened?” Donovan prodded in a tender tone.
“All I wanted in life was to have a successful career, but Aubrey swept into our lives as a surprise.” Images of her precious baby materialized in her mind. “When my maternity leave ended, I knew I wasn’t ready to return to work yet. Aubrey became my priority, and I didn’t need to work for the money.”
“You were fortunate to have that option.”
“It came at the cost of a normal childhood. My parents gave Damien and me an extremely generous monetary wedding gift, but it was more a guilt offering than a present. Damien’s father is a senator, and he had a childhood like mine. It’s what drew us together.” She flinched as the wounds attempted to surface. “Regardless, I’m grateful I had those extra months with Aubrey since I couldn’t have imagined how short her life would be.”
“None of us ever can.”
She forged forward with her story, afraid she wouldn’t be able to finish if she stopped for any length. “One day I had to go into the office to fill out final paperwork. Damien took off work for the day, and we’d planned to take Aubrey to the park when I finished.”
Donovan pressed a hand to her shoulder. “You don’t have to finish the story.”
“I need to.” She hadn’t realized how badly she needed to until now, but she’d bottled it in for too long, allowing the pressure to build.
He removed his hand from her and sat back. “If you need to stop, I understand.”
She appreciated his compassion, and it gave her strength to continue. “While I was gone, he took Aubrey shopping with him for an anniversary gift. My sister was going to show him a bracelet I wanted, so she was in the car with them. They never made it home.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I was still in the office when I got the call. A drunk driver plowed into them in the middle of the day. My sweet Aubrey and Damien died on the scene. Tori made it to the hospital but didn’t survive the surgery.”
Donovan handed her a tissue. “I can’t fathom going through that.”
“No one can.” She clenched her fists in anger. “One of the worst things about it—beyond the obvious of losing my child, spouse, and sister—was that I wasn’t allowed to grieve in private. Because of the public nature of my father’s career and Damien’s father, the accident was dragged through a media circus. Some lowlifes had the nerve to suggest an affair between Damien and Tori.”
“Thus, your distrust of the media,” he whispered, not as a question, but of validation.
“It was horrible. Tori and Damien had a brother/sister relationship, and anyone who knew them understood that, but everyone wants their five minutes of fame.” She heard the venom in her voice but couldn’t stop. “A few of our closest friends gave interviews implying they’d witnessed the affair firsthand—which they hadn’t—no proof ever surfaced because there was none. I trusted my sister and husband implicitly, but the media cared more about ratings and sensationalism than the deaths of three innocent people whose lives were cut short by a man who’d made an incredibly poor and selfish decision.”
“I wish I could defend my industry, but I know in many areas, what you experienced is true. It’s unfortunate.” Donovan heaved a sigh. “For what it’s worth, the staff atThe Daily Nativityand I aren’t like that, and I apologize on behalf of those who wronged you.”
“For some crazy reason, I believe you. I can tell you’re different.” She picked up her hot—lukewarm—chocolate and finished it. “Nobody in Nativity except Mrs. Jacobs knows about my past. I’d rather keep it that way.”
“May I ask why?”
“I don’t want the pity. No one, absolutely no one, should have to live through what I experienced, and every piteous glance is a reminder of it.” She absently fumbled with the lid. “And I guess a part of me worries that if anyone finds out who I am, the gossip will be resurrected. I prefer anonymity.”
He furrowed his brows and regarded her with curiosity. “In this day of technology, anyone could put your name in a database and pull up your info.”
“If they knew my real name. My full legal name is Zoe Marissa Whittle. Daniels is my mother’s maiden name, and before the accident, I went by Marissa.” She twirled the lid in her hand. “Beyond that, I’ve spent a lot of money paying to have my personal information removed from the internet.”
“Understandable, considering the ordeal you went through.” He shifted his position and Snowball jumped off his lap for the second time. “What brought you to Nativity?”
“I couldn’t stay in Connecticut. I honestly believe I would have lost my mind. Back then, I was still new in my faith and hadn’t learned how to draw peace from God.” A bittersweet laughed escaped. “I went online, searched for picturesque towns in America and made a list. In the end, I chose Nativity because I loved the idea of an entire town based on Christmas. It offered hope which I desperately needed at the time.”
“I’m glad you found your way here.” His smile illustrated his fondness for the town. “I’ve lived here all my life and can’t imagine living elsewhere. Nativity has a way of soaking deep into your bones and infusing your soul with the hope you mentioned.”
“I love it here. It possesses a charm not found in many places.”
“Your candy canes add to that.”
“Thank you.” Under different circumstances, she might have been annoyed that he’d circled the conversation back to where it started, but she saw no indication it was anything but a sincere compliment. “The candy canes started as a healing process for me. That first holiday season after the accident, I couldn’t stop crying for more than fifteen minutes. Starting in early November when Christmas songs and movies started playing, I fell into a deep depression.”
“No one could blame you.”
“It was bad. Really bad. On Thanksgiving, I remember standing by that window with tears streaming down my face. I knew then something had to change.” Her face burned at the memory. “I decided right then that I couldn’t be the only person suffering during the holidays. It might have been too late for me to have a merry Christmas, but maybe I could help somebody else.”
