Under The Mistletoe, Against The Rules

JULIET Ortisei. Whoever came up with the saying: “There's no place like home," was damn right about that. It's been five years, five f*****g years since I stepped foot in my hometown, and returning here stirs up something in me. Something I can't quite put a name on. As the car drives through the streets, I look around at the place I left behind years ago and realize not much has changed. I can still spot the shop that sold the best lasagnas, our community school, and the huge playground now covered in snow. We drive past half-naked children playing tag in the snow, and a feeling of nostalgia washes through me. How I missed this place. Ortisei in December is exactly how I remembered it; quiet, dreamy, and soaked in its usual usual holiday magic. Snow settles on the rooftops like powdered sugar, soft lights glow from windows even in the late afternoon, and the mountain slopes wrap the whole town in a peaceful, white embrace. Wooden balconies are decorated with wreaths and red ribbons. A couple walks their dog past us, bundled in knitted scarves, laughing as snowflakes catch in their hair. The kind of scene you’d see on a postcard. The kind of escape I need after two months of intense schoolwork. Yet something twists in my chest, sharp and unexpected. Maybe it’s because nothing else changed… while I did. Maybe it’s because the last time I left this town, I swore I’d never come back unless I had my life perfectly figured out. Spoiler alert, I don't “My mom just called,” Rosa says, interrupting my thoughts. “She and my dad will be happy to have a few extra souls at home. You could come stay with us if you don't feel comfortable staying with your sister." The offer hangs in the air like a lifeline. For a moment, I imagine it. Staying with Rosa, surrounded by her chaotic, loving family, far away from the one person I’ve spent years trying to forget. Staying at Rosa’s means avoiding awkward dinners with Lara, forced sisterly bonding moments. Avoiding him. Avoiding Rowan Russo, my sister’s husband, my first love, and the man who unknowingly ruined me for every guy who came after. Five years should’ve been enough to erase the ghost of a teenage crush, but Ortisei makes old memories too loud to ignore. I can still remember his laugh in their kitchen, his hand brushing mine when he handed me a plate, the way he’d say my name in that deep, steady voice that made my stupid fifteen year old heart explode. But that was before. Before he became untouchable, before he became hers. Before life taught me how foolish it is to love someone you can never have. Rosa drums her fingers on the steering wheel as she waits for my answer, her eyes soft with concern. For a second, I considered it. Staying at Rosa's, I won't have to see Lara or her husband for any longer than necessary. I could stay here for the holidays and actually enjoy it, without the constant drama that comes with them. But then again, she knows I'm in town, so if I don't stay at her place, she'll go ahead and tattle to Mom about it and I'm going to get an earful when I go back to Florence. Don't get me wrong though. I love my sister, and we have a good sibling relationship. But I envy her a lot. Growing up she had most of our parents' attention, despite the fact that I was the youngest. She has the perfect life. A family that adores her, a good husband and a good career. She has everything a girl could ask for. Unlike me who can't maintain a simple love life due to an incident that happened years ago that has me running for the hills the moment a man's touch goes beyond a hug. The only man whose touch didn't irritate me was Rowan. But alas he too wasn't meant to be mine, just a fantasy to dream of as a little girl. “I'll stay with Lara," I say finally. “I don't want her whining to Mom about how I don't love her and all." Rosa looks like she's about to say something, but thinks better of it. In a few minutes, she pulls over at the cozy duplex where my sister lives with her husband. “Don't forget, tomorrow we are going to drop our documents at the company,” she says. I give a slight nod, reach over to the backseat and grab my suitcase before stepping out of the car and shutting the door behind me. The cold hits me immediately. I pull my coat tighter around me. Gosh, I've been away for so long that I forgot how cold it gets during winter here. Snowflakes drift lazily around me, melting on my cheeks as I adjust my grip on the suitcase handle. Rosa’s taillights glow red for a moment before her car rolls down the street and disappears behind a bend. And suddenly, it's just me. Me and the house I’ve avoided for five years. Warm yellow light spills from the living room window, casting a soft glow on the snow-covered steps. A wreath hanging crookedly on the door has me shaking my head. Lara was never great with anything arts-and-crafts related. I nearly smile at the thought. Nearly. My boots sink into the snow as I take one slow step forward, then stop again, heart hammering in a steady, traitorous rhythm. I know what’s waiting behind that door. My sister, of course, dramatic, emotional, loud-in-a-loving way But also him. The idea of facing him again after all these years wraps around my chest like a too-tight scarf. Part of me feels like the same foolish teenage girl who used to linger in the hallway just to hear his voice when he visited our house. But another part of me—the part that survived heartbreak, fear, and everything in between—knows I’m older now. I fought my feelings for him five years ago and I finally got over them. At least… I hope. My breath forms a small cloud in the air as I stare at the familiar door. The snow muffles everything, cars, distant laughter, even my own thoughts. I could turn around. Drag my suitcase back to the street, call Rosa and tell her I changed my mind. I could avoid this. Avoid him. But avoiding things is what I’ve done for years, and look where that’s gotten me. Nowhere actually If I can survive exam finals, I can survive Christmas with my sister and the man who unintentionally broke me. “Okay,” I whisper to myself, my voice nearly swallowed by the falling snow. “You can do this.” I grip the handle of my suitcase tighter, take a breath and step forward again, toward the door, toward the warmth inside, and toward the one person I am absolutely not ready to see. I raise my hand to knock, but the door opens before I can knock. “Welcome home, Mia Cara."