Maddy felt some strange emotion clog her throat and she tried to clear it before smiling back at him.
“Plus,” he continued, “my reasons are completely selfish. I’m buttering you up so you’ll give me more of your grandma’s candy.”
Maddy’s boom of laughter attracted the curious looks of many passers-by.
“I bet it was the coffee ones, huh?”
“God, don’t remind me. I could eat twenty of them all in one sitting.”
“Are you one of those coffee addicts who need like five cups of coffee a day to even function?” she half-asked, half-laughed.
“Well, five is an exaggeration,” ‘most days’ he mumbled under his breath, “but I do love my coffee.”
Maddy paused in thought, her eyes drinking in the features of Nate’s smiling face.
“Do you ever think about it? Where you would be right now if you weren’t here? The life that you left behind?”
Nate’s intense gaze was impossible to look away from.
“Doyou?” he asked.
Maddy considered her words carefully.
“Is it wrong to say that I don’t?” Her voice was quiet, almost as if she was confessing something bad. “Not really, at least. I might get these passing thoughts here and there, but then I see everything that surrounds me here, the people that know and love me, and,” she hesitated, her eyes never leaving his, “and the people I got to meet and get to know better, and it’s hard focusing on anything else. Is it wrong to want to stay where I feel more loved and more safe than ever in my life?” She scoffed, bowing her head. “I probably sound like a coward who doesn’t want to face life and would rather live in a bubble.”
A few seconds filled with silence went by until Nate’s fresh scent enveloped her, a set of arms drawing her close and moving her to sit on his strong thigh. He was suddenly so close she could count his eyelashes, his nose almost brushing hers, his lips a hair’s breath away.
“You’re not a coward, my sweet girl. You just want to be happy,” he said, cupping her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin. “What’s so wrong about that?”
His eyes seemed both fierce and tender as he uttered those words. Almost as if he needed to believe them himself.
As she brushed her lips against his and let herself sink into that moment, Maddy thought that maybe they could believe those words, together.
She only wished she didn’t feel like there was a clock already ticking down.
twenty-five
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day had always been a family affair for Maddy. They were days of comfort, spent at home with her parents and grandma, wrapped in the familiar glow of tradition.
Her mom and nonna would conjure up the perfect dinner—one guaranteed to send everyone into a blissful food coma. Her dad, never quite satisfied with the music, would swap out CD after CD, the final selection sometimes questionably festive. And Maddy? She would either be glued to whatever Christmas special played on TV or glide around the house in fuzzy socks until they were worn thin by the end of the day.
But this time, something felt different.
Later, she would realize that she had been trying to commit everything to memory. She helped her mom and grandma prepare the feast. She bickered with her dad over the pros and cons of moody blues as a dinner soundtrack. She hugged her nonna so tightly the poor woman squeaked in surprise—before recovering and rubbing Maddy’s back in soothing strokes.
Maddy knew her behavior might have come across as odd. She was probably acting as if she was heading off to war.
The thing was that she hadn’t just missed her grandma. She had missed her parents as well. Oh, they were alive and well. But ever since they had decided to move to warmer climates and relocate to Florida, Maddy hadn’t had the opportunity to see them as often as she would have liked. She did book the occasional trip once or twice a year but that wasn’t even close to the time she wished she could spend with her family.
At least, she felt content in the idea that they were happy living far away from the constant drizzling rain that they both hated.
Throughout the whole dinner, Maddy couldn’t stop her eyes from growing misty, even as her smile was beaming, her heart full of so many contrasting emotions.
That Christmas evening, as she was in the middle of yet another card game with her grandma, she said, “You know I love you very much, nonna, right?” Maddy kept her gaze lowered towards her cards for fear she would start bawling like a baby.
God, why was she getting so emotional?
Her grandma’s aged palm reached out and clasped her own, and Maddy lifted her eyes to take in her grandma’s soft smile. “I know, my darling girl. Ti voglio tanto bene, anch’io.” She paused for a few beats. “Where is this coming from?”
