Which Mistletoe?

Twelve: No Hot Cocoa For You

Elara’s POV

I stared at the basket sitting on my coffee table. Noah left about half an hour ago. We talked about tomorrow’s event, about the cocoa booth, the weather forecast—everything except the one topic lingering between us.

He didn’t mention Andrei.

He didn’t mention what Andrei did.

And he definitely didn’t mention his confession.

It was as if the moment never happened, like he was carefully tiptoeing around it. Maybe he didn’t want to pressure me. Maybe he regretted saying it. Or maybe he was avoiding it because Andrei suddenly reappeared at my door with a basket full of period essentials.

I don’t know.

I don’t know anything right now.

My head feels too full—with holiday stress, event planning, unresolved tension, and hormones that are absolutely not helping.

Noah and I already planned to man the cocoa booth together tomorrow on the west side of the Christmas tree. His shift at the station ends at three, which works out perfectly. It was supposed to be simple, easy, familiar.

But now everything feels… complicated.

I looked at the basket again. It had everything I needed. He even remembered the exact brand of chocolate I only eat on my period—one I used to joke was my “lifeline” during heavy days.

And suddenly I felt angry.

Why now?

Why is he attentive now?

Where was this version of him when we were together?

Sure, he took care of me—when he was free. But if he was busy? He’d just send soup and a text. And I understood, I really did. We were adults with responsibilities, careers, separate lives.

But… this?

Showing up. Remembering details. Paying attention.

It feels like he’s giving me what I always hoped he could.

And I hate it.

I hate it because I can feel it working.

I hate it because I waited for this Andrei.

And I still want this Andrei.

But it’s too late.

It has to be too late.

He had so much time when I lived in the city. So much time to try harder. Why now? Why here? Why when I’m finally trying to breathe on my own again?

My throat tightened and before I knew it, tears were spilling down my face. Maybe it was a real emotion, maybe it was my period amplifying everything—probably both—but I ended up grabbing one of the chocolates from the basket and crying until the ache in my chest softened just enough for me to fall asleep on the couch.

When I woke up, my face was puffy and tight. I needed an alarming amount of concealer to look like I hadn’t collapsed into a hormonal meltdown. Even then, the mirror didn’t lie—I looked exhausted.

And today… today is supposed to be magical.

If only my heart cooperated.

My shift at Double E’s kept my mind distracted—or at least distracted enough. I was refilling Christmas essentials, stocking ingredients that kept emptying too fast, and hopping between aisles trying to keep up with the holiday rush. For a few blessed hours, I didn’t think about Noah or Andrei at all.

That peace ended the moment I was manning the cash register and saw both of them walk in.

At the same time.

The universe really had a twisted sense of humor. They both took long, confident strides toward me—like they were in a silent race to reach my counter first.

“El.”

“Lara.”

They spoke in unison.

I didn’t respond. I didn’t trust myself to.

“I just came by to drop breakfast and coffee,” Andrei said, placing a paper bag on the counter. “I’ll see you later at the lighting. And take your meds, okay? Dysmenorrhea’s always worse when it’s cold.”

He smiled—soft, familiar, dangerously warm. Like everything was fine. Like there wasn’t a storm circling around us. Like Noah’s sharp stare didn’t faze him at all.

“Thanks,” I said quietly, taking the bag.

Noah cleared his throat. “Just came here to get the boxes.”

He literally picked up boxes yesterday. Elias must’ve already shown him the new ones, but Noah didn’t move—not until Andrei said his goodbye and walked out the door.

Only when the bell chimed behind Andrei did Noah murmur, “See you later,” and follow him out.

The moment the door closed, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

Elias leaned onto the counter immediately. “Okay, what’s going on with you three? There’s something weird. Super weird.”

“Leave it alone, Eli.”

“No, seriously.” He squinted toward the door they left through. “It’s like they’re emitting different auras. One black, one white. Like anime characters. What is happening?”

I groaned. “If you’re going to be this ridiculous, go man the register so I can stock in peace.”

He grinned and took my place. Absolutely useless.

By three in the afternoon, I had loaded the boxes into my trunk and drove to the plaza. When I got to the cocoa booth, Noah was already there wearing a Santa hat, arranging supplies neatly.

“Nice hat,” I teased. “You’re early.”

He adjusted it with a small smile. “Chief let me off ahead of schedule. Here, give me those.” He took the boxes from my arms effortlessly.

Everything was already set up. All we needed was for the cocoa to finish warming. People were starting to fill the plaza—families, couples, excited kids. Some walked straight to our booth; others to the pastry stand next to us.

And pastries in this town meant one thing.

“Hi, babe,” Lisa said sweetly as she passed.

Noah groaned behind me. I bit back a laugh.

A little girl approached the counter, clutching her own cup. “C-Can I have marshmallows on mine?” she asked in the cutest stutter.

“Of course!” I said. “How many would you like?”

“Lots! Like two!” She held up two tiny fingers and bounced on her toes.

“Two? That is a lot.” I handed her the marshmallows. “You want to put them in yourself?”

She nodded vigorously, plopping them in with pride. She left hand-in-hand with her mom, beaming.

The sight warmed something in me. I wanted kids someday. Absolutely.

“You’re great with kids,” a familiar voice commented.

Andrei.

A twist tightened in my chest.

Noah cut in quickly, “Kids are the cutest.”

I silently agreed. They were also a safe topic—unlike everything else.

The sky dimmed as the crowd thickened. Someone announced that the lighting ceremony would begin in five minutes.

Andrei approached our booth again. “How are you? Feeling okay?”

I hated how much that simple concern affected me. It shouldn’t matter anymore. It really shouldn’t.

Still, I nodded. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Can I have a cup?”

“No.”

Both men looked at me.

“No?” Andrei repeated, confused.

“This has cinnamon,” I reminded him. “You’ll die.”

He smiled like me remembering his allergy meant something. It didn’t. I just didn’t want him collapsing during a holiday celebration in my hometown.

“Fine,” he chuckled. “Then will you watch the lights turn on with me?”

“We’ll watch it,” Noah answered sharply.

Whatever argument was brewing—I wasn’t having it.

“I’m watching it,” I said, stepping away from the booth. “I don’t care what either of you do.”

But of course they followed. One on each side, like silent guards. Thankfully, neither spoke. They just looked up as the countdown began.

3…

2…

1…

The tree burst to life—lights cascading upward in waves of gold and red and white. The crowd gasped, children cheered, bells chimed faintly from the speakers.

And for one small, quiet moment… I felt at ease.

The holiday magic washed over me, gentle and warm.

It was just Noah and Andrei who insisted on complicating everything.