Christmas by Chance

Chapter 9: Shadows of Regret

Shadows of Regret

The following day, Clara found herself standing in the middle of her parents’ kitchen, staring at her phone. Ryan’s number was saved at the top of her contacts, and she hovered over it, her finger shaking slightly.

She’d spent the night tossing and turning, replaying Emma’s words and the conversations with her mother and Megan. Everyone seemed to believe she deserved a second chance at happiness. The problem was convincing herself.

With a deep breath, Clara hit the call button.

“Clara,” Ryan’s voice answered almost immediately, warm and welcoming. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she said, her voice catching slightly. “I was wondering... are you free today? I thought maybe Emma and I could stop by the resort. We could take that tour you mentioned.”

There was a pause on the other end before Ryan responded, a hint of surprise in his tone. “Yeah, of course. I’d love that. When do you want to come by?”

“Would this afternoon work?”

“Perfect. I’ll meet you both at the entrance.”

“Great,” Clara said, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. “We’ll see you then.”

As she hung up, Emma bounded into the kitchen, already dressed in her winter coat and scarf. “Where are we going, Mom?”

“To see Ryan,” Clara said.

Emma’s face lit up. “Yay! Are we going to ride the sleigh again?”

“Maybe,” Clara said, her nerves giving way to a small laugh.

The resort was even more magical in the daylight. The snow glistened under the sun, and icicles hung from the edges of the buildings like delicate crystals. Ryan was waiting for them at the entrance, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets and a warm smile on his face.

“Hey,” he said as they approached. “Glad you could make it.”

Emma ran up to him immediately. “Ryan! Can we ride the sleigh again?”

Ryan chuckled, crouching down to her level. “We can make that happen. But first, how about I show you around?”

Emma nodded eagerly, and Ryan stood, leading them toward the main lodge.

As they walked, Ryan pointed out various features of the resort—the cozy cabins nestled in the woods, the ice-skating rink where families were gliding across the ice, and the outdoor fire pits where people were roasting marshmallows. Clara couldn’t help but admire how much thought and care had gone into making the place feel like a winter wonderland.

“This is amazing,” she said as they reached the top of a small hill overlooking the property.

Ryan looked at her, his expression soft. “It’s home.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, the crisp air swirling around them. Emma had run ahead to look at a family of snowmen someone had built nearby.

Before he could say more, Emma ran back to them, holding a small snowball in her mittened hands. “Can we throw snowballs now?”

Ryan laughed, his gaze never leaving Clara. “Sure thing, kiddo.”

As they spent the rest of the afternoon playing in the snow, sipping hot cocoa, and even taking another sleigh ride, Clara felt a flicker of something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

Shadows of Regret

Later in the evening, James sat in his car, parked just down the street from Clara’s house. The snow had begun to fall again, blanketing the windshield in a soft, white blur. He didn’t bother turning on the wipers. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white, his pulse hammering in his ears.

From where he sat, he could see the faint glow of Christmas lights through the window. A shadow moved inside—the unmistakable figure of Clara as she leaned down to help Emma with something. James swallowed hard, his throat tight.

He’d told himself this wasn’t a good idea, that coming here would only make things worse, but the ache in his chest refused to subside. He missed them—missed the laughter, the mess, the way Emma used to crawl into his lap and beg for bedtime stories. Most of all, he missed the way Clara used to look at him like he was her whole world.

But that was gone now.

The Weight of Regret

James rested his head against the steering wheel, letting the cold silence of the car press down on him. How had it all gone so wrong? He’d started with good intentions—he always had. Work had demanded more and more of his time, and he’d convinced himself it was for his family. But somewhere along the way, he’d stopped listening.

Stopped seeing Clara.

Stopped appreciating what they had.

And when the distance between them became too great, he hadn’t fought hard enough to fix it. Instead, he let the cracks deepen until there was nothing left to hold them together.

Now, Clara had moved on. She had Ryan.

James clenched his jaw at the thought. He’d seen them around town—the way Ryan looked at Clara, the way Emma laughed when he was near. It felt like someone had stolen the life James had taken for granted. And it hurt. God, it hurt.

But was it too late?

A Desperate Attempt

James opened the car door before he could talk himself out of it. The cold air hit him like a slap, but he welcomed it. Maybe the sharpness would keep him from unraveling.

He walked toward the cottage, each step heavy, each breath visible in the icy night. He didn’t even know what he was going to say. Sorry? That felt laughable now.

When he reached the front door, he hesitated, his hand hovering above the doorbell. From inside, he could hear Emma’s laughter—light and innocent. It cracked something inside him.

Before he could lose his nerve, he knocked.

The door opened a moment later, and there she was—Clara. Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a second, James saw something soften in her expression. But then her guard went up, and the warmth vanished.

“James?” Her voice was cautious. “What are you doing here?”

He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling like he didn’t belong on her doorstep. “I just… I needed to see Emma.”

Clara’s lips parted slightly, but she quickly composed herself. “She’s asleep, James. It’s late.”

“I know.” His voice cracked. “I just—Clara, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

Her expression faltered, but she didn’t let him in. “You should go. Emma’s doing okay, and I think we’re finding our footing.”

“But what about me?” The words spilled out before he could stop them. “I’m her father. I can’t just stop being part of her life.”

Clara’s shoulders sagged. “No one’s asking you to.”

“Then let me in. Let me see her.”

“No.” Her voice was firm this time. “Not like this. You can’t just show up and expect everything to go back to the way it was.”

James stepped back, the rejection hitting him harder than he expected. He looked past Clara into the warm, inviting glow of her eyes and he saw it—the life she was building without him.

“Is it Ryan?” His voice was low, tinged with bitterness.

Clara’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t about Ryan. This is about boundaries—boundaries you need to respect if you care about Emma.”

Her words stung, but deep down, James knew she was right. He wasn’t thinking clearly. The jealousy, the anger, the regret—they were clouding his judgment, pushing him to a place he didn’t want to go.

James turned and walked away, but each step felt heavier like he was sinking into something dark and suffocating. He got back in his car and slammed the door, his chest heaving as he tried to steady his breathing.

He hated himself in that moment—for failing Clara, for letting Emma down, and for not knowing how to fix any of it.

The thought flickered before he could stop it—if Ryan wasn’t around, maybe things would be different.

James shook his head violently, trying to push the idea away, but it was too late. The seed had already been planted, and with it came a dangerous sense of desperation.

As the snow continued to fall outside, James sat alone in the dark, his thoughts spiraling. He didn’t want to be the villain in Clara’s story, but the ache in his chest was quickly turning into something he could no longer control.

By C. Manner.