Home For Christmas

Chapter 1 Home for Christmas Holly’s POV “I think we need to break up.” Those words still echo in my mind, haunting me every single day. It’s been three years since Ethan said them, and he never looked back—not even to apologize. I stared out the bus window, watching as the familiar scenery of my hometown came into view. The snowy streets, the faint glow of Christmas lights strung across houses, and the sight of children playing in the snow—it all felt the same, yet so different. I couldn’t believe I was back here, in the place where everything had fallen apart. My fingers tightened around the handle of my suitcase as the bus came to a halt. Stepping off, I was immediately greeted by the icy December air biting at my cheeks. I wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck and began walking toward my dad’s house. Despite everything, I knew there was no better place to spend Christmas than with the only family I had left. The house came into view, small but cozy, with its worn paint and familiar porch swing. Memories of my childhood came flooding back—snowball fights in the yard, warm cocoa on the porch, and laughter that once filled these walls. But those memories felt distant now, like echoes of a life that wasn’t mine anymore. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. “Dad?” I called out, my voice hesitant but hopeful. “In here, honey!” came his familiar voice from the kitchen. I followed the sound and found him stirring a pot on the stove, his movements careful but determined. “Dad, what are you doing?” I asked, hurrying over to him. “You’re not supposed to be doing this. You’re sick, remember? Let me take over.” He smiled at me, the same warm, reassuring smile that had always made me feel safe. “I’m fine, Holly. You don’t have to worry about me.” But I did worry. Every day. “Please, Dad,” I said gently, taking the spoon from his hand. “Go sit down. I’ll finish up, and when it’s ready, we’ll eat together.” He hesitated, but eventually, he nodded and shuffled out of the kitchen. I watched him go, my heart heavy. As I stirred the pot, my thoughts raced. My dad wasn’t getting any better, and I didn’t know how to tell him the truth—that I’d been fired, and we were running out of money to keep the house. The familiar smell of the stew brought back memories I wasn’t prepared for. I could almost see myself here three years ago, cooking with Ethan. It had been one of the happiest days of my life—until it wasn’t. I shook the thought away, focusing on the task at hand. Once the meal was ready, I carried it into the living room and set it on the table. My dad was watching his favorite show, his face lighting up as I placed the food in front of him. “Dinner’s ready,” I said, sitting down beside him. “Thank you, honey,” he replied, pulling the table closer. We ate in silence at first, but the weight of my secret pressed heavily on me. I couldn’t avoid it any longer—I had to tell him. “Dad,” I began, placing my hand over his. “Are you okay? Really?” He looked at me, his brow furrowed in concern. “Of course I’m okay. What about you? You look like someone who’s had a rough journey getting here.” Tears pricked at my eyes before I could stop them. “Are you crying?” he asked softly, his voice filled with worry. I quickly wiped the tears away, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, Dad. I just missed you so much.” He pulled me into a hug, his arms warm and comforting. For a moment, it felt like everything would be okay. But the moment didn’t last. A knock at the door startled us both. “I’ll get it,” I said, standing up and heading to the door. When I opened it, a man stood on the porch, holding an envelope. He glanced at the letter before looking at me. “Is this Mr. Williams’ house?” he asked. “Yes, it is. I’m his daughter, Holly Williams. Can I help you?” He nodded, handing me the envelope. “I was asked to deliver this to him.” “Thank you,” I said, closing the door and returning to the living room. “Who was that?” my dad asked, noticing the envelope in my hand. “It’s a letter,” I said, sitting back down. “I think it’s for you.” I opened the letter, my eyes scanning the words. The blood drained from my face as I read its contents. The paper slipped from my trembling hands. “It’s about the house, isn’t it?” my dad asked, his voice calm but knowing. I nodded, my throat tight. “Yes. They’re planning to take it soon. But now that I’m here, we can figure something out, right?” My dad looked at me, his eyes filled with hope. But I couldn’t keep up the façade any longer. “Dad,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I lost my job. I don’t have any money to help save the house. I’m so sorry.” He opened his mouth to respond, but I couldn’t face him anymore. I stood and rushed out the door into the snowy night. The cold wind stung my face, but it couldn’t compare to the ache in my heart. I walked aimlessly, tears blurring my vision. I needed a miracle, something—anything—to fix this mess. As I wandered through the quiet streets, the lights of the town blurred together in my mind. I didn’t know where I was going, but it didn’t matter. I just needed to escape. I turned a corner, lost in my thoughts, when I bumped into someone. Before I could fall, a strong hand caught me. I looked up slowly, my breath catching in my throat. Standing before me was the one person I never thought I’d see again. “Ethan,” I whispered. He stared back at me, just as surprised. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The snow fell silently around us.