The Christmas Contract

Ambushed

Sarah had barely knocked on the door when Holly yanked it open, practically pulling her inside as if she had been waiting for her arrival. The moment Sarah stepped into the living room, Holly immediately unburdened her soul, her voice thick with the weight of everything she had been holding back.

"Sarah, I can’t… I can’t do this anymore!" Holly exclaimed, tears still threatening to spill over. "My dad—he’s, he’s dying, and he wants me to get married. Just in case..." The words felt like a punch to the gut. She sank into the sofa, burying her face in her hands. "I can’t let him down. I can’t not give him the chance to walk me down the aisle."

Sarah stood there, listening, her expression softening as she took in the gravity of the situation. "I get it," she said quietly, offering Holly a moment of comfort before her words shifted. "Ryan's parents are just as rich as yours. Your mother would never accept anyone else. Your families are practically tied together. It's expected, Holly."

"Moreover, both of you had been together for five years. That's a lot of time. There's no way you can find someone new in only a couple of days," Sarah sighed even as she spoke with visible concern in her tone.

"I can’t forgive him!" Holly snapped, her anger flaring up again. She looked at Sarah, her eyes red-rimmed, her voice trembling. "He didn’t even look sorry! It’s like he’s already used to cheating, like it doesn’t even bother him anymore! And I can’t—I can’t ever forgive him for that!" Her chest tightened with the sting of betrayal.

"I don’t ever want to see him again!" Holly’s voice dropped to a low whisper, the weight of her decision sinking in as a slight fear cheeped in that if she saw his handsome face again, she might find herself changing her mind.

Sarah’s gaze softened as she took in the depth of Holly's words. After a long moment, she spoke gently, but her words carried a certain weight. "Our circle is close-knit but big. People are going to find out, and they’ll blame you, Holly. Ryan’s got it all—he’s rich, and successful, and everyone thinks he’s perfect. It’ll look like you gave up on a catch."

"They can have him then!" Holly snapped, her voice laced with bitterness.

"You don’t love him anymore?" Sarah’s voice was almost hesitant, as though she knew the answer but wanted Holly to say it.

"I can never get back with him," Holly said, her voice quieter now, filled with a sorrow she hadn’t yet reconciled. "I can't see him the same way ever again. I just… I just can’t." She collapsed onto the sofa, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on her chest.

Sarah didn’t respond immediately, letting her friend vent her frustrations. But after a beat, she sat next to Holly and began to gently rub her feet, a comforting gesture that helped Holly feel just a little lighter, even if only for a moment.

Sarah’s though, had a sly smile on her face, as her gaze lingered on Holly. "Regardless, you need to go to the estate dinner tonight," Sarah said, her voice playful, but her eyes glinting with something Holly would have been wary of, if she had seen it. "A couple of new people just moved in. You need to get out there, let loose a little. It’s good for you."

Holly’s first instinct was to refuse, to sink deeper into the sorrow of her broken heart. "I-I’m too tired," she mumbled, not bothering to hide the fatigue in her voice. But Sarah wasn’t having it.

Before Holly could protest again, Sarah had already pulled her upstairs to pick out something suitable. Holly couldn’t help but notice the sly grin Sarah wore as she rifled through her closet, clearly plotting something. "Come on, you’ll feel better. A change of scenery. And you need to get away from all this, even if just for a night."

Holly hesitated, but Sarah’s persistence won out. "Fine, fine," Holly finally muttered, knowing it was futile to resist. She agreed, but there was another reason she couldn’t refuse. The thought of seeing Ethan again—the memory of his stunning face and his muscles beneath that long-sleeved shirt—was enough to sway her.

Soon, they found the perfect black gown—a sleek, elegant dress that clung to Holly’s body in all the right places. Sarah worked her magic with makeup, covering up the red and puffy eyes, making Holly look every bit as flawless as she needed to, her dark hair pinned beautifully on her head.

The drive to the estate garden felt slow and almost surreal. Holly’s thoughts wandered, but they kept returning to one thing: Ethan. His broad shoulders, his chiseled jawline, the way his presence had affected her the moment they met. She remembered the way his body had looked under that long-sleeved shirt—muscular, toned, like he was made for something more than just blending into the background. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, even in the midst of everything falling apart.

When they arrived at the estate garden, Holly couldn’t help but scan the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. The atmosphere of the estate was something out of a dream—lush, extravagant—but her eyes were locked on one thing: Ethan. She had to see him again. It wasn’t just for distraction anymore; she needed something to prove to herself that she could move forward.

Sarah noticed the shift in Holly’s demeanor, a subtle change in her posture. "Looking for someone?" she teased, though Holly barely acknowledged her.

Holly’s gaze remained fixed, her pulse picking up as her thoughts raced. Tonight, she was going to let herself forget the heartbreak, at least for a few hours. Tonight, she was going to let herself be swept away by someone—or something—other than her broken past.

Holly’s heels clicked against the polished floor as she made her way through the crowd, nodding at a few neighbors she hadn’t seen in months, some she probably wouldn’t see again until the next estate event. Small talk filled the air, laughter and polite chatter swirling around her like a cloud. She was here, of course, because it was expected—because her mother demanded it, and because everyone else’s life seemed so perfectly intact while hers was shattered into pieces.

She could already feel the weight of it all, the forced smiles, the half-hearted pleasantries. But at least for tonight, she didn’t have to pretend everything was fine. Not anymore. As soon as she saw the bar set up by the side, a place to escape the crowds and maybe drown out her thoughts, she made a beeline for it.

She needed something stronger than the weak martini she had earlier—a drink that could take the edge off and make the last few hours of this event bearable. She took a deep breath and adjusted the tight bodice of her black gown, looking down at her heels—six inches of torture—but no way could she take them off now. The damage was done.

The bartender nodded at her as she approached, ready to serve, but before she could say anything, a familiar voice rang out from behind her, and her heart skipped a beat. The very last person she wanted to hear from.

“Holly!” the voice called, warm but laced with an edge of frustration. “I’ve been trying to call you!”