Except Cole wasn't a monster.
AndI'dbeen a fool.
So here I was – about to beg for his forgiveness and, Santa willing, to break his holiday curse. I'd even dressed for the part and brought along a prop – something I'd made at my parents' place.
As far as the prop itself, I'd tucked it into a festive red gift box about the size of a cookie sheet. Now I was holding it out in front of me, keeping it steady, like a baker might carry a cake.
As I worked up the courage to ring the doorbell, I looked down at the box and envisioned the thing inside.Would Cole like it?
And then, I looked down at my costume.Would he like me?
There was only one way to find out.
I took a deep breath, steadied the box in a single hand, and rang the doorbell with the other. Soon, I heard footsteps from within, and the door swung wide open.
But the person in the doorway wasn't Cole. It was a pretty brunette in red satin pajamas.
From the open doorway, she eyed me with obvious irritation. "What doyouwant?"
My heart sank, and I struggled to reply. "Um…"
"It's a little late for visitors, don’t you think?" She gave my outfit a long, rude look and then zoomed in on the gift box. "What? Are you selling something?" Her mouth tightened. "Whatever it is, we don't want any."
We.
Meaning her and Cole.
It was nearly midnight on Christmas Eve, and she was wearing her nightclothes. Her feet were bare, and her toenails were painted Christmas red. My stomach lurched.Just what had I interrupted anyway?
But then I remembered. "Wait a minute." Hope sprang in my heart. "By any chance, are you Cole's sister?"
I held my breath and waited.Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes….
She gave a condescending snort. "You wish."
My heart deflated like a popped balloon. "Oh. Um, well…"She was right.Ihadbeen wishing for such a thing. And now my hopes were dashed like a trampled fruitcake, and I didn't know what to do.
After all, I hadn't come hereonlyfor myself.
I glanced down at the box. The surprise inside had feltsoimportant. Itstillfelt important, even now, with my replacement glaring out from the open doorway.
My gift wasn't merely the thing in the box. It was what I planned to do with it. Call it a show. Call it a morality play. Heck, call it pure foolishness. But whatever it was, I'd planned to do it at the stroke of midnight, on the thin, magical line between Christmas Eve and Christmas morning.
The gesture would surely have more power that way – or at least more significance.
I considered what Cole had told me during our last conversation. All of those things he'd mentioned – the car crash, the awfulness with his parents, even the eviction notice – they'd all happened on either Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.
I wanted to cover both holidays, but I couldn’t do anything at all if Cole never came to the door.
I was still debating my next move when the girl in the doorway gave my costume another rude look. "And aren't you a little cold in that getup?"
The "getup," as she'd called it, was my green elf costume, complete with the jingle-bell hat and matching green pumps. Tonight, I wore no tights –orjeans for that matter – because I'd wanted to look playful and maybe just a little bit sexy.
Not too long ago in his office, Cole had called this my "little elf dress," and I could still recall what he'd said at the time."If you ever show up in that thing again, I'm not letting you go so easily."
Had he truly moved on?So soon?
My heart twisted at the thought. But if hehadmoved on, could I really blame him?
