Home For Christmas

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Home for Christmas

Holly’s POV

I stared into his eyes, my breath caught in my throat. It felt like time had stopped, the snow falling softly around us, muffling the world.

“Ethan,” I said again, my voice barely above a whisper. Could it really be him? The man who broke my heart three years ago?

“Holly?” he replied, his voice hesitant, like he wasn’t entirely sure if it was me.

For a moment, I just stood there, stunned. Then the realization hit me like a wave, and anger surged to the surface. “Wow,” I said bitterly, folding my arms. “Who would’ve thought I’d run into the jerk who broke my heart? What are you doing here, Ethan? Did you hear I came back and decide to show up just to rub salt in the wound?”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stood there, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. I waited for him to say something—an apology, an explanation, anything. But he stayed silent.

“Well, it’s nice to see you again,” I said sharply, turning to leave.

“Holly, wait,” he said, grabbing my hand before I could walk away.

I turned to face him, my heart pounding with frustration. “What?” I snapped. “Do you have something to say now? Because if not, I’d rather not freeze to death standing here.”

He hesitated, his grip on my hand loosening. “It’s… good to see you,” he finally said, his tone soft.

“Good to see me?” I repeated, incredulous. “That’s it? After three years, that’s all you’ve got? No apology, no explanation? Nothing?”

His lips parted like he wanted to say more, but he closed them again, shaking his head slightly.

“Unbelievable,” I muttered, pulling my hand away. “Well, enjoy your holiday, Ethan.”

I turned to leave again, my heart heavy with disappointment. But before I could take another step, I felt something warm drape over my shoulders. I looked down to see Ethan’s jacket wrapped around me.

“Here,” he said quietly. “It’ll keep the cold away.”

I turned to thank him, but he was already walking away. He didn’t stop, didn’t look back.

I stood there for a long moment, watching him disappear into the snowy night. My thoughts raced, my emotions swirling in a storm of anger, sadness, and confusion.

After all this time, how could he still have this effect on me?

---

When I got home, my dad was still sitting in his recliner, watching the news. The familiar sound of the TV should have been comforting, but tonight it only made the house feel emptier.

I tossed Ethan’s jacket onto the couch and sat down beside my dad.

“You bought a new coat?” he asked, his eyes flicking to the unfamiliar jacket.

“No, Dad,” I replied, sighing. “I ran into someone I never wanted to see again.”

His brow furrowed. “Who?”

“Ethan,” I said flatly, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “He’s back in town.”

Dad leaned back, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Ethan, huh? I saw him the other day when I was out for a walk. He didn’t see me, but he looked good. Seems like he’s doing well.”

“Good for him,” I muttered, crossing my arms.

Dad turned off the TV, his gaze settling on me. “You know, it’s Christmas, Holly. Maybe this is fate giving you two a chance to make peace.”

“Peace?” I repeated, my voice rising. “Dad, you remember how things ended between us, don’t you? He broke up with me out of nowhere, said I wasn’t his type, and then just disappeared. Why would I want to make peace with someone like that?”

Dad shrugged. “People change. Maybe he regrets what he did.”

I shook my head, frustrated. “I don’t need him, Dad. We’re fine without him.”

Dad’s expression softened, and he reached over to pat my hand. “Holly, I know you don’t want to hear this, but we’re running out of options. If Ethan could help us with the house, wouldn’t it be worth it to at least talk to him?”

The weight of his words settled heavily on my chest. I wanted to argue, to tell him we’d find another way. But deep down, I knew we didn’t have many choices left.

“I’ll think about it,” I said finally, my voice barely audible.

Dad gave me an encouraging smile before heading to his room. I stayed on the couch, staring out the window at the falling snow. The silence of the night only made my thoughts louder.

Ethan. Seeing him again had been like reopening an old wound. I hated how easily he’d slipped back into my life, how his presence still affected me after all these years.

I glanced at the jacket lying beside me. Picking it up, I held it in my hands, the fabric soft and warm. It still smelled faintly like him, a mix of pine and something distinctly Ethan.

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away. I couldn’t let myself fall apart, not now.

“I wish I’d never seen you again,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

The jacket slipped from my hands and landed on the couch. I stared at it for a long time before finally turning away.

---

That night, sleep didn’t come easily. My mind kept circling back to Ethan—his face, his voice, the warmth of his jacket. Every detail felt etched into my memory, no matter how much I wished I could forget.

I replayed our encounter over and over, analyzing every word, every pause. Why was he back? Was it really just to spend Christmas with his family, or was there something more?

A part of me wanted to believe he’d come back for me, that maybe he regretted how things had ended. But another part—the part that still bore the scars of our breakup—told me not to be foolish.

Ethan had made his choice three years ago. And I couldn’t let myself hope for something that would only hurt me again.

The only thing I knew for certain was that seeing him again had stirred up feelings I wasn’t ready to face.