Christmas by Chance

Chapter 10 :Ghosts of the Past

Ghosts of the Past

Clara stood frozen at the door long after James had turned and walked away. The cold air from outside lingered in the entryway, sending a chill through her bones. She exhaled sharply and pressed the door shut, leaning against it as though it could keep out the echoes of their conversation.

Her hands trembled. Not from fear no, it wasn’t fear but from something more complicated. Anger. Sadness. Guilt.

James’s face haunted her. The rawness in his eyes. The desperation in his voice. She hadn’t been prepared for it. She’d thought time and distance would dull his presence in her life, but standing there in front of him again had made her heart twist in ways she didn’t expect.

Clara moved to the couch and sank, her gaze landing on the flickering glow of the Christmas tree. It had been Emma’s idea to put it up early this year— But tonight, it only reminded Clara of the life she and James had once shared, and how quickly it had unraveled.

Her mind wandered back to the early days of their marriage. The laughter, the stolen kisses in the kitchen, the late-night talks about dreams and plans for the future. They’d been happy once—hadn’t they? Or had it all been an illusion she’d clung to for far too long?

James had started pulling away years before the divorce, burying himself in work and leaving her alone to manage Emma, the house, and her own growing doubts. She’d told herself he was just stressed, that he’d come back to her when the pressure eased. But he never did.

Instead, he’d shut her out completely. And she’d let him.

Clara swallowed hard, her eyes burning. She wasn’t blameless. She’d given up, too—given up on him, on them. And maybe that was why seeing him tonight had left her so shaken.

Because deep down, she knew he wasn’t the only one who had failed.

Clara’s thoughts drifted to Ryan—the way he’d shown up with cookies earlier, the easy warmth in his smile, the steadiness in his voice whenever he talked to Emma.

Emma adored him. Clara wasn’t blind to that. She’d seen the way her daughter’s face lit up when Ryan walked into the room, how she felt safe enough to ask him questions that she hadn’t dared to ask James.

And that scared Clara more than she wanted to admit.

Ryan represented something new, something fragile and untested. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that—ready to let herself feel again, to trust again. And yet, when she thought about him, there was a flicker of hope that she couldn’t ignore.

But then there was James.

Tonight’s visit had cracked open wounds she thought had healed. The guilt of moving on too quickly—or maybe not quickly enough—gnawed at her. Could she build a future with Ryan while James was still standing in the shadows of her past?

The sound of Emma’s soft footsteps pulled Clara out of her thoughts.

“Mommy?” Emma peeked around the corner, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Who was that at the door?”

Clara’s chest tightened. She forced a smile and motioned for Emma to come closer.

“Just Daddy, sweetheart. He wanted to see you, but you were already asleep.”

Emma’s eyes brightened for a moment before clouding with confusion. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I could’ve said hi.”

Clara bit her lip, unsure how to explain it in a way Emma would understand. “It was late, and you need your rest. Don’t worry, you’ll see Daddy soon.”

Emma hesitated, then climbed into Clara’s lap and rested her head against her chest.

“Does Daddy miss us?” Emma’s voice was small, almost hesitant.

Clara felt the sting of tears again and hugged her daughter tightly. “Yes, baby. He does.”

Emma shifted, looking up at her. “Then why don’t we all live together again?”

Clara’s throat closed up, but she forced herself to answer. “Because sometimes grown-ups love each other, but they’re better at being friends than being married.”

Emma seemed to accept that answer, but the words left Clara hollow inside. Was that even true? Could James and Clara ever be friends, or were they destined to remain fragments of something broken?

When Emma finally drifted off to sleep in her arms, Clara carried her back to bed and tucked her in, brushing her hair away from her face.

Standing there in the dim light of the bedroom, Clara made a decision.

She couldn’t let James pull her back into the past. She wouldn’t. Emma deserved stability, and Clara needed to keep moving forward, no matter how much her guilt tried to anchor her down.

She’d talk to James again—set clearer boundaries. He had every right to be in Emma’s life, but he couldn’t keep showing up unannounced, couldn’t keep tugging at the loose threads of a relationship that no longer existed.

And Ryan…

Clara’s heart thudded at the thought of him. She wasn’t ready to label what she felt, but she knew one thing for sure—Ryan had shown her kindness, patience, and a steadiness she hadn’t felt in years.

Maybe it was time to stop punishing herself for wanting more.

Lingering Regrets

Later that night, as James sat alone in his car, he replayed the conversation over and over. Her words echoed in his head—sharp, honest, and filled with finality.

He’d lost her.

No matter how much he wanted to undo the past, some things couldn’t be fixed.

But Emma—Emma was his chance to make things right. He couldn’t afford to fail her the way he’d failed Clara.

As he stared at the empty road ahead, determination flickered in his chest. He would show Clara—and Emma—that he wasn’t the same man anymore.

Even if it killed him.

By C. manner.