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“Jason—”

“This love I feel for you isn’t just for now. It’s not a transitory thing. It’s forever. I can’t guarantee that I won’t be run over by a bus, or that I won’t be killed by a bolt of lightning crossing Boston Common, but I can guarantee I’m not going to leave you through choice.”

Her mouth was dry. She could barely form the words. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. And by walking out that door now you’re choosing to deprive yourself of a lifetime of love and partnership. Will we have tough times? Maybe. Probably. That’s life, isn’t it? Stuff happens.” He gave a tiny shrug. “But will I be by your side for it? Yes, I will. And in time, you’ll learn that I’m someone you can rely on. That my love is something you can rely on. I’m not your parents. I’m choosing you, Izzy, and I hope you’ll choose me back.”

Her heart was beating so hard she felt dizzy.

She knew he was waiting for her to respond. To say something. It was her turn.

But no words came and eventually he sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“And now I’ve scared you,” he said, “because there’s not much that’s scarier than trusting someone with your heart. If it’s any consolation, I find it scary, too.”

“You do?”

“Of course. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It makes you vulnerable, but the difference between us is that I know it’s worth the risk. And if there is a price to pay then I’ll pay it. If you decide you don’t want to be with me then I’ll be crushed, but I’ll survive. And I certainly won’t blame you. You’re allowed to make a choice. You should make a choice. But don’t let fear make that choice for you.”

She swallowed. “I’ve never done it. I’ve never trusted anyone with my heart.”

“I know.” He nodded. “And what I’m trying to tell you is that I promise to take really good care of it. And this is a deep and difficult conversation to have when you’ve just woken up.”

He looked adorably groggy but still so handsome with his hair flopping over his forehead and the sheet sliding down to expose his bare chest. She almost climbed right back into bed with him.

Instead, she gave him a half-smile. “You’re not good in the morning.”

“No, I’m not. And that’s one of the things you’re going to learn about me if you don’t walk through that door. You’ll also learn that I love cooking but not clearing up. I’ll do it, but it takes me a while, and I complain a lot while I do it. I’ve been told that I have no idea how to stack a dishwasher, but still, I insist on doing it the way I want to do it. I hate people who stare at their phones when I’m trying to have a conversation with them. I love going for long hikes but I drive my companions mad because I will stop and take photographs the whole way.”

Every word he spoke stripped away another layer. Revealed something about him. And she wanted more. She wanted to learn every single thing she could about him.

But where would that lead? And, more to the point, was she willing to risk it?

“Even if I wanted to take the risk, I’d mess it up. I’m not good at relationships. I’ve told you that.”

“Yes, you told me that, but I’m still here, laying out my feelings. I’m all in, Izzy. And I know this thing we have could be really good.”

Her heart was racing. Fight or flight. She was standing on the edge of a precipice.

“I know it could.” She was honest for the first time. “That’s not the problem.”

“No. The problem is that you’re worried about making yourself vulnerable. You’re worried about loving and not having your love returned. You’re worried that you wouldn’t be able to survive that because you’re remembering what it was like to be that little girl and not be able to depend on anything. But here’s the thing, Izz, you did survive it, and I’m not sure you even recognise that.” He spoke softly. “Not only did you survive, but you built a good life for yourself. That took strength and resilience. All that stuff in your childhood shaped you, but it didn’t break you. You’re afraid to care, because you know that once you care you’re vulnerable, but Izzy, you already care. I know you do. I saw it last night. I felt it last night. So is walking away really going to make you feel better?”

All she had to do was take off her scarf and the rest of her clothes and get right back into bed with him, but you had to be brave to do that, didn’t you?

It took real courage to intentionally risk serious emotional harm, and she wasn’t that brave. For her, loving someone was like walking on unstable ground, never confident that your next step would land securely.

Maybe walking away wouldn’t make her feel better, but what if staying made her feel worse? Every day she’d care a little more, fall a little deeper in love with him. And although he claimed to know that she loved him, she was sure he didn’t understand how much she loved him. How these past months of working with him had turned what had begun as sexual attraction into something it had taken her a while to identify.

She heard a little voice telling her that maybe he wouldn’t walk away. That maybe he wouldn’t wake up one day and decide he no longer loved her. That barring a wayward bus or an unlucky lightning strike, it was possible he would be there for her through thick and thin. It happened for some people. The lucky ones. But what if you weren’t one of the lucky ones? Did she really think that by going with him to spend a late Christmas with his family, they’d suddenly become her family? That she could step into a place by his side and feel she had always belonged?

Even Santa didn’t deliver that level of gift.

And it was because she wanted not just that but all of it, that she finally opened the door.

“I’ll see you downstairs, Jason. We need to build a snowman.”

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