Page 127 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

‘But life isn’t a fairy tale. I’ve spent most of my career trying to write so-called “perfect” speeches – landing “key messages” within stories that have a clear beginning, middle and end. This approach has worked pretty well for me over the years – after all, a “perfect” speech is practically guaranteed to elicit certain feelings, emotions and actions.

‘But, for the first time in my life, I’m writing a speech – this one – with absolutely no plan for what the ending might be. And… that’s okay. Because sometimes the words that need to be said are imperfect. And sometimes, three words alone can capture it all.

‘No, not those ones. Yet. These ones: Giving. Alive. Artist. Because that’s where our story started. I might not have any idea where it’ll end, or whether we’ll have a “happily-ever-after”, but there is an important question I need to ask you: Ethan, will you be my “happy for now”?’

Before the question was even fully out of my mouth, Ethan had closed the gap between us and taken me into his arms. ‘I will,’ he said into my hair. ‘The middle part of the story is always the best bit, anyway.’

I tugged him towards me for another kiss. A group of rowdy men who’d tumbled out of the nearest pub gave a chorus of ‘wahey!’s as they walked past us, and I waved one of my hands above my head to acknowledge them, without coming up for air.

‘Flora?’ Ethan asked after about a minute.

‘Mmm?’

‘Can we head indoors? I’m fucking freezing.’

‘Shit, yes! Let’s go back to mine.’

We walked back towards the main road. No sooner had I thought the word ‘taxi’ than one appeared in front of us, seemingly out of nowhere.

‘Hello again,’ the driver said – it was the same one who’d dropped me off minutes earlier, as if his cab was my personal carriage that had once been a pumpkin. ‘It all worked out, then?’ he asked. I grinned and nodded in response.

‘You know this guy?’ Ethan asked, confused, as we climbed into the back.

‘Welcome to England, where everyone knows everyone,’ I said, with a wink.

I gave the driver my address and settled in next to Ethan.

‘You dashed to the airport for me?’ I said, resting my head on his shoulder.

‘Ha, yeah, I did.’

‘You got on a plane? For me?’

‘Yup, I landed this morning. Your mum and sister – and your sister’s hypnotherapist friend – met me at Heathrow.’

‘WHAT?’

‘Yeah, I have a lot to catch you up on.’

‘I need to hear it all. How were you even in touch with them?’

‘I can’t believe I’m about to say these words, but a few days ago your sister reached out to me on LinkedIn…’

Eighteen months later

The brash sound of the apartment buzzer prompted Jason to dash from the kitchen counter to his blue dome of bliss.

‘You ready for this?’ Ethan asked, caressing my waist with his hand as we rose from the sofa.

‘More than okay. Like, I’m nervous, but in an excited way.’

‘Me too.’

Everything feels so… right.

I picked up the receiver.

‘Hey!’ I said, knowing exactly who it was.