Forbidden Christmas

CHAPTER 9: Guilt and Distance

Derek's pov

I stood at my workshop window, phone in my hand, staring at Maya's last text.

"Thank you for today. For being patient with me. For making me feel like I could do it."

I'd already typed and deleted three different responses. Each one felt too heavy, too revealing. Finally, I'd settled on something simple.

"You could always do it. You just needed someone to show you how."

Safe. Appropriate. The kind of thing a teacher would say to a student.

Except there was nothing safe or appropriate about the way I felt watching her ski today. The way my hands had fit on her waist. The way she'd looked at me when she made it down that first real slope, pure joy in her eyes.

The way she'd hugged me without thinking, and for one perfect second, I'd let myself imagine that was allowed.

I set my phone down and tried to focus on the bookshelf I was building for Sophie. Ran my hand over the smooth wood, checking for rough spots. This was what I should be thinking about. My daughter's Christmas present. Not the way Maya's hair had smelled like vanilla and something floral when she'd crashed into my arms.

My phone buzzed. I grabbed it too quickly.

Sophie: "Dad, stop hiding in your workshop. We're doing game night. Maya's idea. Get in here."

I typed back: "Give me ten minutes. Just finishing something."

Sophie: "You have five or I'm coming to drag you out myself."

I smiled despite myself. Sophie had definitely inherited her mother's stubbornness. I put away my tools and headed toward the house, telling myself I could handle one evening sitting in the same room as Maya without making a fool of myself.

I was wrong.

The moment I walked into the living room, my eyes went straight to her. She was sitting on the floor by the coffee table, cross-legged in leggings and an oversized sweater that kept sliding off one shoulder. Her hair was up in a messy bun. No makeup. She looked about nineteen and absolutely beautiful.

"Dad! Finally." Sophie patted the couch cushion next to her. "We're playing Monopoly. You're the car."

"Nobody ever wants to be the car," Jason said from his spot on the other couch, eyes on his phone as usual.

"I'll be the car." I sat down where Sophie indicated, which unfortunately gave me a direct view of Maya across the coffee table.

Melissa emerged from the kitchen with wine. "I'm only playing if we're drinking. Monopoly is torture otherwise."

"Agreed," Maya said, accepting a glass. Her eyes flicked to mine for just a second before looking away.

We started playing. Sophie insisted on being the banker, which meant she narrated every transaction with unnecessary drama. Jason paid minimal attention, occasionally glancing up from his phone to roll the dice. Melissa drank her wine and made sarcastic comments about capitalism.

And I watched Maya.

I couldn't help it. Every time she laughed at something Sophie said, her whole face lit up. When she landed on Boardwalk and groaned dramatically, Sophie collapsed against her in giggles. They had this easy affection, this sister-like bond that went deeper than friendship.

They were family to each other. Maya had said her father left, that she didn't have real family. And Sophie had claimed Maya as hers, the same way she'd claimed me after the divorce when her mother chose River over us.

They needed each other. And I was thinking about Maya in ways that could destroy that bond.

"Dad, it's your turn." Sophie nudged me. "You've been staring at your piece for like five minutes."

"Sorry. Just strategizing."

I rolled the dice. Moved my car. Tried to focus on the game.

But then Maya reached across the table for the dice and her sleeve slid up her arm. I saw the smooth skin of her wrist, remembered the way her pulse had jumped under my fingers this morning when I'd steadied her on the slopes.

"Derek?" She was holding the dice out to me. "You need these for your next turn."

Our fingers brushed when I took them. That same electric jolt from this morning. From the attic yesterday. From every accidental touch that wasn't really accidental anymore.

Maya pulled her hand back quickly, color rising in her cheeks.

"Maya, your turn," Sophie said, oblivious. "Oh! You landed on my property. Pay up."

Maya handed over her Monopoly money, still not looking at me.

The game continued. Sophie bought Park Place and announced she was going to bankrupt everyone. Jason got sent to jail for the third time and barely noticed. Melissa refilled everyone's wine.

And I watched Sophie lean against Maya, watched them share inside jokes, watched Maya's hand rest on Sophie's shoulder while they debated strategy.

This was what I'd risk if I pursued this thing with Maya. Not just my relationship with my daughter, though that would be devastating enough. But Sophie's relationship with Maya. The one person Sophie trusted completely, the one stable thing in her life besides me.

"I'm going to destroy you," Sophie told Maya cheerfully, placing a hotel on Boardwalk.

"You're evil," Maya laughed.

"I learned from the best." Sophie gestured at me. "Dad's the actual worst at Monopoly. He shows no mercy."

"It's a game about capitalism," I said. "Mercy defeats the purpose."

"See? Evil." But Sophie was grinning, happy. She leaned back against the couch, her shoulder touching mine on one side, her knee bumping Maya's on the other. Her two favorite people in the world, right there with her.

And I was thinking about kissing one of them.

The guilt hit like a physical weight on my chest. What kind of person was I? What kind of father?

Sophie trusted me. She trusted Maya. And we were both lying to her every time we locked eyes across a room. Every time we texted in the middle of the night. Every time we found excuses to be alone together.

"You okay, Dad?" Sophie was looking at me with concern. "You look weird."

"Just tired. Long day on the slopes."

"You're not that old. Don't use age as an excuse." She threw a wadded-up Monopoly money at me. "Come on, your turn. Unless you're going bankrupt. Are you going bankrupt? Because that would make my night."

I played my turn mechanically. The game went on. Sophie won, as she'd predicted, bankrupting all of us with ruthless efficiency.

"Victory!" She threw her hands up. "I am the Monopoly queen. Bow before me."

"Absolutely not," Melissa said. "I'm going to bed. Some of us have standards."

Jason stood too, finally putting his phone away. "Yeah, I'm done. Good game, babe."

"Thanks for playing, everyone!" Sophie started packing up the game. "Maya, want to help me make hot chocolate? Dad, you in?"

"Actually, I should get back to the workshop. I'm on a deadline with your present."

"Ugh, fine. But it better be amazing if you're abandoning me for it."

"It will be." I stood, carefully not looking at Maya. "Goodnight, everyone."

I made it to the workshop and closed the door, leaning against it. My heart was racing like I'd just run a mile.

This had to stop. Whatever was happening between Maya and me, it couldn't continue. The risk was too high. The cost too steep.

I pulled out my phone and typed before I could talk myself out of it.

"Can't meet tonight. This was a mistake. I'm sorry."

We hadn't planned to meet. Hadn't discussed it. But I knew if I didn't draw a line now, I'd end up at her door. Or she'd end up at mine. And that couldn't happen.

I hit send and immediately looked up at the house. Through the kitchen window, I could see Maya and Sophie standing at the counter. Sophie was laughing, pouring milk into mugs. Maya was reaching for something in the cabinet.

Then Maya's phone buzzed on the counter. She picked it up, still smiling at whatever Sophie had just said.

I watched her face change as she read my message. The smile faded. Her whole body went still.

Sophie said something, gesturing at the hot chocolate. Maya shook her head, phone clutched in her hand. Even from this distance, I could see the moment her eyes filled with tears.

She said something to Sophie. Set down the mug she'd been holding. Walked quickly out of the kitchen.

Through the window, I saw her climb the stairs. Saw her bedroom light come on a moment later.

My phone buzzed.

Sophie: "What did you say to Maya? She just ran upstairs and looked like she was about to cry."

My stomach dropped.

Derek: "Nothing. Why?"

Sophie: "She got a text and then said she wasn't feeling well and left. Did something happen on the slopes? Did you guys have a fight?"

Derek: "No. We're fine. Maybe she's just tired."

Sophie: "Maybe. But she seemed fine five seconds before she looked at her phone."

I didn't respond. Couldn't respond. Because Sophie was right, and I was the reason Maya was upstairs crying.

I'd done the right thing. Pulled back before this went too far. Protected Sophie, protected all of us from the disaster this would become.

So why did it feel so wrong?

I looked up at Maya's window. The light was on, curtains drawn. I imagined her in there, sitting on her bed, reading my message over and over. Maybe crying. Maybe hating me.

Maybe both.

My phone was in my hand before I realized what I was doing. I typed: "I'm sorry."

Then deleted it. Typed: "Can we talk?"

Deleted that too.

Finally settled on: "Goodnight, Maya."

Three dots appeared immediately. She was typing. The dots disappeared. Appeared again. Disappeared.

Finally, nothing. No response.

I set my phone down and stared at her window until the light went out an hour later.

This was the right choice. The only choice. I needed to stay away from her. Needed to rebuild the walls I'd let crumble over the past few days.

Starting tomorrow, I'd keep my distance. Be polite but paternal. Treat her like Sophie's friend and nothing more.

Tomorrow, I'd do the right thing.

But tonight, I stood in my workshop and stared at the dark window where Maya had been, feeling like I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life.