Chapter 3: Old Flames, New Tensions
1067 Words
The next morning, Grace woke up to a blinding white landscape outside her window. The snowstorm that had been brewing the night before had finally unleashed its fury, burying Snow Hollow in a thick, glittering blanket. From the cozy confines of her old bedroom, the world seemed untouched and serene, but Grace knew better. Snow in Snow Hollow always came with its challenges—icy roads, power outages, and, if she was lucky, more awkward encounters with Ethan Cole.
Ella was already awake, bundled in her penguin pajamas and peering out the frosted window. “Mom! Can we build a snowman after breakfast?”
“Maybe later, sweetheart,” Grace said, brushing a stray curl from Ella’s face. “Let’s see how bad the storm gets first.”
Downstairs, the scent of fresh coffee filled the air. Michael was already up, dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans, his boots by the door.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greeted with his usual grin. “Hope you’re ready for a busy day.”
“Busy?” Grace poured herself a mug of coffee, already bracing for what he had planned.
“Yeah. We’ve got to dig out the driveway, for one. And the Christmas tree needs to go up today. It’s a tradition, remember?”
Grace smiled faintly. She did remember. Every year, the family would pile into Michael’s old truck, head to the tree farm, and argue over the perfect tree before inevitably choosing one too big to fit in the living room.
“I don’t think we’re going anywhere in this storm,” Grace pointed out, gesturing to the swirling snow outside.
Michael waved her off. “It’ll ease up by noon. We’ll be fine.”
Ella, who had been listening intently, clapped her hands in excitement. “Can Ethan come with us?”
Grace nearly choked on her coffee. “Why would Ethan come with us?”
“Uncle Michael said he helped pick out the tree last year,” Ella explained. “And he has a big truck!”
Michael smirked, clearly enjoying Grace’s discomfort. “Ethan’s got a good eye for trees. And yeah, his truck’s better equipped for the snow than mine.”
Grace shot him a look. “I’m sure we can manage without him.”
“Suit yourself,” Michael said with a shrug, but Grace could tell he was already plotting something.
By noon, as Michael had predicted, the storm began to wane. The wind died down, and the sun peeked through the clouds, casting a sparkling glow over the snow-covered village.
True to form, Michael had called Ethan without consulting Grace. When his truck rumbled into the driveway, Grace sighed, pulling on her coat and boots.
“I didn’t ask for this,” she muttered under her breath as she stepped outside.
Ethan climbed out of the truck, his jacket dusted with snow. He looked as ruggedly handsome as ever, his blue eyes crinkling with amusement as he greeted Ella.
“Ready to find a tree, kiddo?” he asked, lifting her into the truck’s cab with ease.
Ella giggled. “Yep! Mom says the tree has to be perfect.”
“Oh, does she?” Ethan glanced at Grace, his smirk infuriatingly smug.
Grace folded her arms. “Let’s just get this over with.”
The tree farm was as picturesque as Grace remembered, its rows of evergreens dusted with fresh snow. Families bustled about, bundled in scarves and mittens, their laughter echoing through the crisp air.
Ella ran ahead with Michael, her excitement contagious. Grace hung back, trudging through the snow beside Ethan.
“You didn’t have to come, you know,” she said after a long silence.
Ethan shrugged. “Michael asked, and I wasn’t doing much else.”
“Of course,” Grace muttered.
Ethan stopped walking, turning to face her. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Act like my being here is some kind of personal attack.”
Grace blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not—”
“You are,” he interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “If you’ve got a problem with me, just say it.”
Grace opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. Did she have a problem with him? Or was it just the unresolved tension from years ago, mixed with the chaos of her life now?
“It’s not about you,” she said finally, her voice softer. “I’m just...trying to keep things simple for Ella. She doesn’t need more complications.”
Ethan studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Fair enough.”
He didn’t press further, and for that, Grace was grateful.
By the time they found the tree—an eight-foot Douglas fir that Ella declared “the most magical tree ever”—Grace was beginning to relax. Ethan had been patient with Ella’s indecision, even lifting her onto his shoulders so she could inspect the higher branches.
As they loaded the tree onto Ethan’s truck, Michael snapped a photo of Ella grinning beside it, her cheeks rosy from the cold.
“This one’s going in the family album,” he said, showing Grace the picture.
Grace smiled, but her heart ached. It was moments like these that reminded her of what she had lost—and what she was still fighting to hold onto.
Back at the house, the tree took center stage in the living room. Ella buzzed with excitement as she helped untangle lights and hang ornaments. Ethan lingered for a while, helping to secure the tree in its stand before saying his goodbyes.
“Thanks for the ride,” Grace said awkwardly as he pulled on his coat.
“Anytime,” Ethan replied, his tone surprisingly warm. “See you around, Grace.”
As he left, Grace felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. She wasn’t ready to let Ethan back into her life—not with everything else she was dealing with. But part of her couldn’t deny the small spark of something she thought she had buried long ago.
Ella, oblivious to her mother’s inner turmoil, held up a strand of lights triumphantly. “Mom, look! I fixed it!”
Grace smiled, pulling her daughter into a hug. Whatever the holidays had in store, she would face them one day at a time.
- Writer
