Christmas by Chance

Chapter 2: A Glimpse of the Past

A Glimpse of the Past

The afternoon passed in a flurry of activity. Emma was nearly bouncing off the walls with excitement as Clara helped her strap on a pair of rented skates. Clara herself hadn’t been on the ice in years, but seeing her daughter’s wide eyes and rosy cheeks made it all feel worth it.

“Mom, you’re going to love it!” Emma grinned as she steadied herself, her tiny hands gripping Clara’s arm.

“I’ll try,” Clara said, laughing softly, as she steadied herself on the ice. The cold air was refreshing, and the rink was decorated with strings of twinkling lights, casting a magical glow on the ice. She glanced up to see families skating together, children laughing, and couples holding hands as they glided around. The whole scene seemed almost too perfect, too idyllic—like something out of a holiday movie.

It was easy to forget the stress of her life, the weight of the divorce, the confusion about her future. For a moment, everything felt simple again.

“You’re doing great!” Ryan’s voice came from behind her, and Clara nearly lost her balance. She turned to see him skating toward them, effortlessly gliding across the ice in a way that made Clara feel as though she were moving in slow motion.

“Thanks,” she said, trying to regain her footing. She looked down at Emma, who was skating circles around her, giggling. “Looks like she’s a natural.”

Ryan chuckled. “She’s got some good genes, clearly. You should join her, Clara. You’ll catch on in no time.”

Clara raised an eyebrow. “You make it look easy. I’m not so sure I’m ready for a full skating routine just yet.”

Ryan grinned, offering a hand. “Come on. I’ll help you. It’s just like riding a bike—once you get the hang of it, you never forget.”

She hesitated, then took his hand, allowing him to guide her onto the rink. The moment her skates touched the smooth surface, she felt a rush of adrenaline. The cold air, the sound of laughter around her, the smooth glide of her skates—it was exhilarating, and she couldn’t help but laugh, despite herself.

Ryan moved with her, gently guiding her along. “See? Not so bad.”

“Easy for you to say,” Clara muttered, but the smile on her face was genuine.

For a while, they skated together, with Emma darting in and out of their path, laughing and shouting for them to keep up. Ryan’s presence felt easy, natural, like it had been years rather than decades since they’d been in each other’s lives. Clara couldn’t help but notice how much more confident he was, how his rugged features had softened into a look of contentment she hadn’t remembered from their younger years.

She had known Ryan back in high school, of course. He had always been her brother Josh’s best friend, someone she’d seen around but never really spent much time with. He’d always had a quiet intensity, a seriousness that had been hard to miss, but also a kindness underneath it all. Clara had never thought of him as anything more than Josh’s friend—until now.

“Your brother always said you were the best skater in the family,” Ryan said, his voice low as they skated side by side.

Clara snorted. “I think Josh might’ve exaggerated a little. I was the one who always fell first.”

Ryan’s smile was warm. “I bet he wasn’t the only one who thought that. You were always the one to take charge, right?”

Clara paused for a moment, surprised by how perceptive he was. “Maybe. I guess I’ve always been good at figuring things out on my own. But lately, I’ve been feeling… off balance, I suppose.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that what the holidays are for? Getting back on your feet?”

She laughed softly, glancing at him. “I guess I’m hoping to find some of that balance here, but it’s been harder than I expected.”

Ryan’s expression softened, and for a brief moment, their eyes locked. There was a silent understanding between them, a shared recognition of the weight that both carried.

Before Clara could say anything else, Emma’s voice broke the silence. “Mom! Look, I can skate by myself!” Emma was gliding toward them, her arms flailing in the air as she sped up.

Clara’s heart raced, but Ryan was already there, effortlessly skating toward Emma and catching her just before she lost her balance. He steadied her with a gentle laugh. “You’re doing great, kiddo. Just don’t go too fast!”

Emma giggled, her cheeks flushed with pride. “I’m fast, Mom! I can do it all by myself!”

Clara watched, her heart swelling with affection. Seeing Emma so happy, so carefree, made her realize how much she wanted to give her this simple, beautiful holiday. For her daughter, Clara would do whatever it took to make things work—even if it meant confronting parts of herself she wasn’t ready to face.

Later, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the Christmas lights twinkled more brightly against the darkening sky, Clara and Emma sat down at a small table by the rink, sipping hot cocoa. Ryan had disappeared for a while, likely attending to other guests, but his kindness had left a lingering warmth in Clara’s chest.

“You like Ryan, don’t you, Mom?” Emma asked suddenly, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Clara froze, her heart skipping a beat. “What makes you say that?”

“You smiled a lot when he was around,” Emma said matter-of-factly. “And he made you laugh.”

Clara felt heat rise to her cheeks. “I—Emma, we’re just friends, okay? We haven’t seen each other in a long time.”

Emma tilted her head. “Okay, but I think you should talk to him. I think he’s nice.”

Clara’s heart melted a little at her daughter’s innocent words. She didn’t know what to make of the way Ryan had made her feel today—how the weight of her past seemed to lift, if only for a moment, when she was around him. Maybe Emma was right. Maybe there was more to this holiday than just escaping her old life.

Ryan's perspective

Later, after Clara and Emma left the resort Ryan stayed behind, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite articulate.

Seeing her again stirred up a whirlwind of emotions he thought he’d buried. He remembered the first time he’d met her—she was Ben’s kid sister, all laughter and determination. Even back then, there had been something about her that had drawn him in, though he’d never dared to act on it.

And then James had entered the picture, sweeping Clara off her feet. Ryan had stepped aside without a word, convincing himself it was the right thing to do. She had been happy, or at least she seemed to be.

But now, seeing her back in white pines with Emma and without James, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was his chance.

Ryan wasn’t the type to rush into things, especially not with Clara. He knew she was still healing, still finding her footing after what must have been a painful divorce. The last thing he wanted was to overwhelm her or make her feel pressured.

Instead, he resolved to take things slow. If he could be a friend to her first, someone she could lean on during this transition, then maybe, just maybe, they could build something more.

That evening, Ryan sat by the fireplace in his cabin, staring into the flames as his mind replayed the day’s events. He thought about the way Clara had smiled at him—hesitant, but genuine. He thought about Emma, so full of life and curiosity, and the way Clara’s eyes softened whenever she looked at her daughter.

“She’s still the same,” Ryan murmured to himself, though he knew that wasn’t entirely true. Clara had changed, and so had he. But the feelings he’d buried all those years ago were still there, stronger than ever.

As much as he wanted to reach out, to tell Clara how he felt, Ryan knew he needed to be careful. Clara wasn’t ready—not yet. She needed to heal, to find her own strength before she could let someone else in.

So, he would wait. He would be there for her in whatever way she needed, whether it was as a friend, a confidant, or just a familiar face in a town that might feel strange after so many years away.

For now, that was enough.

Ryan leaned back in his chair, letting the warmth of the fire seep into his skin. Outside, the snow was falling softly, blanketing the hills of white pines in a layer of quiet beauty. It felt like a sign—a reminder that even in the coldest of seasons, there was always the promise of something new.

And maybe, just maybe, this Christmas would bring the second chance he’d been waiting for.

By C.Manner.