A Christmas Promise
1132 Words
Chapter Ten: A Christmas Promise
Snow blanketed the cobbled streets of Copenhagen in hushed white wonder, softening the city’s usual clamor into something out of a fairytale.
Twinkling lights shimmered from windowpanes, casting golden halos over fir trees and frosted rooftops. The scent of roasted almonds and cinnamon drifted in from the nearby market, where children laughed, bells chimed, and gløgg warmed cold hands and hearts.
Inside a cozy second-floor apartment nestled between two colorful townhouses, a new chapter of Catherine’s life was unfolding. It was her first real Christmas since she had walked away from a life built on pain—and her very first with Max.
It began with a ruckus in the hallway.
Catherine peeked through the peephole, then threw open the door.
Max stood there grinning like a boy, covered in snowflakes, wearing a Christmas sweater adorned with a crooked reindeer and dragging a tree behind him. Leo stood proudly next to him, his cheeks flushed red with cold, a bright Santa hat falling over one eye.
“I picked it!” Leo shouted.
Max coughed. “Technically, we both did.”
Leo beamed. “Max let me use the ax at the tree farm!”
Catherine blinked. “He what?”
“I supervised,” Max said quickly, holding up both hands. “Very… closely. He only knocked over one other tree.”
Leo added proudly, “And I yelled ‘Timber!’ like in the movies.”
Catherine raised a brow and muttered, “We’re going to have a long talk about acceptable tree-chopping practices.”
Mira came running, her tiny feet thudding on the hardwood. “TREEEEE!” she squealed, hugging the lower branches as if it were a long-lost friend.
Max watched her with a soft smile. “That reaction made it all worth it.”
They wrangled the tree into the living room, knocking over a lamp and half a bowl of popcorn in the process. Ornaments were spilled across the floor. Mira tried to eat a candy cane still wrapped in plastic. Leo insisted the tree lean slightly—“It looks more magical that way, like it’s from a fairytale.”
Max burned the first batch of cookies. When Catherine opened the oven, she stared at the blackened lumps.
“Explain,” she said flatly.
He held up the timer. “I blame the appliance.”
“You set it for two hours,” Leo whispered helpfully.
“Again, the appliance.”
Catherine laughed until she cried.
Later that evening, the chaos melted into calm.
They were curled on the couch, the fire casting amber shadows on the walls. Catherine leaned into Max’s side, her head resting against his shoulder. Mira was sprawled across her lap, tiny hand clutching her mother’s sweater. Leo had burrowed into a blanket next to Max, fast asleep, his hair tousled, his breathing soft and even.
Catherine exhaled slowly, watching the flames dance.
“I never imagined this,” she murmured.
Max turned his head. “This?”
“Peace. Laughter. A man who doesn’t disappear when things get messy.”
He was quiet for a moment before replying. “I wasn’t always this guy.”
She smiled, her eyes on the fire. “I wasn’t always this woman.”
He kissed her temple gently. “I love who you’ve become.”
She tilted her head to look at him. “Even the cautious, scarred parts?”
“Especially those. They’re the proof you survived.”
Her eyes misted over. “You make me feel safe.”
“And you make me feel like home.”
Christmas Morning
The day began in a flurry of excitement.
Leo raced down the hallway wearing Christmas pajamas covered in dinosaurs in Santa hats. Mira toddled after him, squealing. Wrapping paper flew. Squeals echoed off the walls.
Mira shrieked with joy as she unwrapped a pink dollhouse that lit up when she pressed a button. Leo gasped at the junior engineering kit Max had helped pick out—wires, gears, little motors. He immediately declared he would build a robot to do the dishes.
“You’ll be rich by summer,” Max declared.
Catherine was last to open her gift—a soft, cozy blue sweater. She lifted it with a puzzled smile.
“It’s lovely, but… Max, this isn’t my size.”
“Check the pocket,” he said, his voice suddenly quieter.
She slipped her hand inside.
Her fingers closed around something small and firm—something velvet.
Her breath caught. Time slowed.
She looked up, and Max was already kneeling in front of her, his eyes full of emotion.
Leo gaped. “Is this the question?”
Max chuckled softly. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
He took her hand gently in his.
“You’ve already given me more than I ever deserved. A family. A home. A reason to wake up every morning and be better than the man I was yesterday. Catherine… I love you. And I want to give you forever.”
He opened the box, revealing a simple, elegant ring.
“Will you marry me?”
Catherine stared, her hands trembling, her heart racing. “I… Max…”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’ve done this before. I failed. I was broken.”
Max stood, cupping her face with both hands. “You weren’t broken. You were betrayed. This—us—this is not a repeat. It’s a rewrite. You get to be happy this time.”
She nodded, weeping softly. “Yes. Yes, Max.”
Leo jumped up and did a fist pump. “Do I get to wear a tux?”
Mira clapped and shouted, “Wedding!”
Max swept Catherine into his arms as the children bounced around them in excitement.
Later That Night
The apartment had quieted. Toys were scattered across the living room. The fire burned low. Catherine and Max sat on the windowsill wrapped in a shared blanket, fingers entwined. Outside, snow fell again, soft and shimmering under the city lights.
“What do you want our future to look like?” Catherine asked.
Max looked thoughtful. “Messy. Loud. Full of laughter and chaos. A house with chipped paint and muddy footprints. Birthday cakes gone wrong. A dog that steals our socks. Maybe a little cottage near the coast where we can grow old and yell at seagulls.”
Catherine laughed through her tears. “That sounds perfect.”
He kissed her hand. “I want that with you.”
She leaned against him, her heart full. “Then let’s start.”
And in that moment, surrounded by love, snow, and the quiet promises of forever, Catherine finally knew.
She hadn’t just survived her past.
She had rewritten her future.
- Writer
