Chapter 3 : Echoes of old feelings
1031 Words
Echoes of Old Feelings
The following morning, Clara woke to a soft blanket of light streaming through her childhood bedroom window. The familiar pastel walls, adorned with faded posters from her teenage years, reminded her how little the room had changed. It felt surreal to be back in this space, surrounded by the past yet unsure of her future.
Emma’s laughter carried up the stairs, mingling with the faint clatter of dishes in the kitchen. Clara stretched, her mind still lingering on the events of the day before—the laughter, the warmth, and especially Ryan. The way his easy confidence made her feel steadier, like she was walking on solid ground for the first time in months.
After throwing on a sweater and jeans, she headed downstairs. Emma was seated at the table, eagerly eating pancakes shaped like snowmen, while her parents bustled around the kitchen.
“Good morning,” Clara said, kissing Emma’s head as she sat down.
“Morning, Mom! Grandma said we’re decorating cookies later!” Emma beamed, her face smeared with syrup.
Clara smiled at her parents. “You’re spoiling her.”
“That’s what grandparents are for,” her father said, pouring her a cup of coffee. “What about you? Got any plans today?”
Clara hesitated. “I thought I might take Emma into town to see the Christmas market. I heard they’re doing crafts for kids and maybe a visit from Santa.”
Her mother raised an eyebrow knowingly. “And maybe you’ll run into Ryan again?”
Clara rolled her eyes. “Mom, it’s not like that.”
“Hmm,” her mother said, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Well, if it were, I wouldn’t blame you. He’s turned out quite handsome.”
Clara’s cheeks flushed, and she busied herself with her coffee.
The town square was buzzing with activity when Clara and Emma arrived. Strings of lights crisscrossed above the market stalls, casting a warm glow on the snow-covered cobblestones. Vendors sold everything from handcrafted ornaments to steaming cups of cider, while children darted around with candy canes and smiles as bright as the decorations.
Clara watched as Emma ran ahead, her tiny boots crunching in the snow. “Don’t go too far!” she called, her voice nearly lost in the hum of the crowd.
“Relax, I’ve got her,” a familiar voice said behind her.
Clara turned to find Ryan standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat. His easy smile disarmed her, and for a moment, she forgot how to respond.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
He shrugged. “The resort sponsors some of the vendors. Plus, I couldn’t miss the best cookies in White Pines.” He nodded toward a nearby stall where a baker was handing out samples. “What about you?”
“Emma wanted to see the market,” Clara said. “I thought it might be a good way to spend the morning.”
Ryan tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “You used to love this place when we were kids. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how magical it is.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Clara said softly. “I guess I just lost touch with it for a while.”
Ryan’s gaze lingered on her, his eyes filled with an understanding that made her heart ache. Before she could say anything else, Emma came running up, holding a small paper bag.
“Mom! Look what I got! Gingerbread stars!” Emma exclaimed, showing off her treat.
“Those look delicious,” Ryan said, crouching down to Emma’s level. “Think you can share one?”
Emma giggled and handed him a cookie. “Only if you help me find Santa!”
Ryan laughed. “Deal. Let’s go.”
Clara followed as Ryan and Emma wandered through the market, stopping at various stalls and chatting with vendors. It surprised her how easily Ryan interacted with Emma, like he’d known her for years. She couldn’t remember the last time someone besides her parents had taken such an interest in her daughter.
As they reached the center of the market, a group of children gathered around a red velvet chair, where Santa Claus was seated, his belly shaking with laughter as he spoke to each child. Emma’s eyes lit up, and she tugged on Ryan’s hand.
“Come on! I want to tell Santa what I want for Christmas!”
Ryan glanced at Clara, his expression playful. “Looks like I’ve been recruited for Santa duty.”
Clara chuckled. “Good luck.”
While Emma waited in line with Ryan, Clara found herself watching them from a distance. There was something about the way Ryan interacted with her daughter that made Clara’s chest tighten. He wasn’t just kind—he was patient, attentive, and genuinely interested. It had been so long since Clara had seen that in anyone, let alone someone from her past.
When Emma finally sat on Santa’s lap, Ryan stood nearby, listening as she rattled off her Christmas wishes. Clara couldn’t hear what Emma said, but the way Ryan smiled told her it was something sweet.
Afterward, Emma came running back, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Mom, I told Santa I want a new doll and for you to be happy!”
Clara blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t have to do that.”
Emma grinned. “But I want you to smile more, like when you talk to Ryan.”
Clara’s breath hitched, and she glanced at Ryan, who was watching her with a curious expression. She felt her cheeks flush, and she quickly changed the subject.
“How about we grab some hot cocoa before heading back?” she suggested, taking Emma’s hand.
Ryan nodded. “Good idea. I know a great spot just down the road.”
As they walked toward the café, Clara couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but for the first time in months, the weight on her shoulders felt a little lighter.
by C : Manner.
- Writer
