Page 60 of The Holiday House Swap

As he left the room, she blurted, “Actually, wait. Tomorrow I was planning to see the Chihuly glass museum. You probably have other things to do, but…”

“I would love that. My office is near there. Want to meet there on my lunch break?”

Arden nodded and wondered if her face looked as pink as it felt. She was embarrassingly delighted by this development.

He said goodbye again, this time with a smile plastered to his face. Arden heard him gathering his coat and keys and carefully shutting the front door behind him.

When he had gone, she wrapped a towel around herself and started the shower. She gave herself a stern look in the bathroom mirror.

“What are you doing? This is a fling.” Because, obviously, she was starting to feel real, confusing feelings for this man whom she barely knew. This man she was about to say goodbye to. And she had come to Seattle to make herself feel better, not worse. She wanted to return home fresh and ready to take on the new year with optimism. Not brokenhearted over a Christmas romance.

She would see him at the museum tomorrow. The date was limited to an hour or so, because Sam would be using his lunch break. After that—even though the thought made her heart ache—she was determined to stop seeing him. There was no point getting more attached when she would be going home in a few short days.

The next morning, Arden savored an almond croissant and a latte in a coffee shop around the corner. (Really, she could accomplish her goal of going to a different coffee shop every day without having to walk more than a few blocks.) She was almost finished reading Ina Garten’s memoir—she wanted to check off Read a nonfiction book on her list. She tried to probe her innermost feelings to see if she felt any different yet.

She was on her first-ever solo trip. She’d taken an early-morning walk and gone a few days without checking social media, though she’d faltered on that one a few times. She hadn’t even been tempted to check on Peter—that was progress. Her gratitude journal was coming along, and it was a bright spot in each day, taking the time to reflect on and appreciate what had gone well that day. As for making eye contact and smiling when meeting new people, well… look where that had gotten her.

Arden did feel happier and more sure of herself. But she couldn’t be certain if that was because of her list or because of the time she’d spent with Sam. It was the most serious she’d gotten with a guy in years. Sure, there had been other dates, other hookups. It wasn’t like Arden was a thirty-year-old virgin. But all of her passion in the last three years had been misdirected at Peter Blake, which left her feeling desperately confused and insecure. Now she felt—as cheesy as it sounded to her own ears—like a new woman.

But it frustrated her, not knowing how much of this feeling was just thanks to Sam. Because yes, it was nice to be appreciated by a good man. But she was trying to learn how to appreciate herself. How to be happy and confident—alone.

She slurped down the last of her latte and sighed.

Maybe she would just view Sam as a helpful stepping stone. Like a necessary—and delightful—experience that helped her get where she wanted to be, to that better version of herself. Maybe, in ten or twenty years, she would look back at Sam Keller with fond gratitude.

Why did that thought make her stomach churn?

She brushed the croissant crumbs from her hands and picked up her book again, but now she was too distracted to read. It was nearly ten—she would go back to Phoebe’s and get ready to meet Sam at the museum.

Arden stepped off the bus and tried to orient herself. The Space Needle loomed above her, but the blue sky above was too bright for her to look up. Remnants of snowfall lingered on the edges of the sidewalk winding through the Seattle Center. It was a perfectly beautiful winter day, sunny and cold. Arden continued down the path, past the Pacific Science Center, where happy kids dragged their tired parents by the hand, then past the Space Needle until she found a glass building with giant, otherworldly flower sculptures rising from the grassy lawn. But it wasn’t the sculptures that made Arden stop. It was the smiling man, bundled up against the cold, with a blue beanie pulled down over his ears.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” She took a moment to drink in the way the cold air turned his cheeks rosy. He reached out a gloved hand to her. The way her bare hand warmed when he held it almost made her sigh with relief.

“So, this is our famous glassblower’s museum. After you.” Sam held the door open as Arden stepped inside the glass building. He brushed off her protests and insisted on paying for her ticket. They went out another door and into the garden.

“Wow.” Arden paused to admire the brightly colored glass sculptures interspersed with the landscaping. There was a vortex of red flowers, tall spears in vibrant orange, and a pine tree made entirely of glass.