Amy sat cross-legged on the bed, the duvet bunched around her waist, phone pressed to her ear. The room was dim except for the pale winter light leaking through the curtains. She kept her voice soft and stready. "Yes, Mrs. Thompson… I'll be there next Thursday," she said, forcing a smile she didn't entirely feel. "I know, it's been a while."
On the other end, the elderly woman's voice crackled with that mix of firmness and fondness that always reminded Amy of a grandmother.
"Oh honey, people have been asking nonstop about that little book of yours," Mrs. Thompson said. "The Adventures of Anne Marie. I swear, the kids go straight for that section the second their parents walk in. They think there has to be another one hidden somewhere."
Amy let out a small breath flattered, but hollow inside. "That's… sweet of them. I don't really have inspiration for a continuation right now," she admitted, rubbing the side of her forehead with her free hand. "But maybe I'll look at it again soon."
"Do that," Mrs. Thompson encouraged. "Sometimes inspiration just needs a push"
"I understand" Amy whispered.
"See you Thursday then?"
"Thursday. Promise."
They exchanged goodbyes just as the bedroom door opened quietly.
Jace stepped in holding two cups, steam curling up from one and orange juice condensation beading on the other. He crossed the room and offered her the orange juice without saying anything, just a small, soft glance that asked everything without words.
Amy ended the call, dropped her phone on the blanket, and took the glass.
"Good morning," he murmured, sitting beside her, shoulder just touching hers.
"Morning," she answered, taking a sip. "Thank you."
They sat like that for a minute, letting the room settle. Outside, snow tapped lightly against the window.
"How are you feeling?" Jace asked finally.
Amy shrugged. "Fine. Better."
He nodded slowly, thinking about how to say what he needed to say.
"I was just on the phone with Rebecca earlier," he began.
Amy's eyes flicked up at him. "Yeah?"
"She mentioned something… about Christmas in Virginia. Charlottesville."
Amy froze. Just a blink, but he felt it.
"Oh," she said quietly. "Christmas."
"Hey," Jace said quickly, cutting off whatever storm he saw forming behind her expression. "I'm not....I'm not pushing you. I don't want you to feel obligated or trapped. Especially with… everything going on with your mom."
Amy stared down at the blanket, her fingers tightening around the glass just enough to show the tremor she tried to hide.
"I don't know," she murmured. "It's just.... I'll have to think about it."
"That's all I'm asking," he said gently. "I thought maybe… a change of place, people who aren't tangled in pain with you. Just somewhere you could breathe for a while."
She nodded once, absently, and took another sip. Then abruptly, she set the glass down on the side table and stood.
"Amy?" Jace straightened, confused.
"I'm just…" She reached for her coat hanging on the chair. "I'm going to take a walk."
Jace blinked. "It's snowing."
"I know." She grabbed a beanie, shoved it over her hair. "That's kind of the point."
He stood up with her. "Can I come?"
"No," she said quickly,too quickly then winced and softened her voice. "I just… need to be alone for a minute."
Jace's face flickered with hurt before he managed to hide it. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No." She crossed back to him and touched his shoulder, eyes earnest and tired. "You didn't do anything wrong. I just… need to clear my head. Please don't leave. I'll be right back."
He nodded, unsure, but didn't argue. "Okay." He replied as Amy slipped into her boots and left the room. She stepped into the elevator and into a quiet world. The air outside smelled clean, like pine and snowflakes drifted lazily, settling on her eyelashes.
She lifted her hand, catching a cluster of flakes, watching them melt instantly against her palm. Something inside her loosened just a bit, enough to let the smallest smile appear.
She walked down the street with no destination, just movement.
Block after block, she walked, holiday lights blinking in windows, muffled car sounds, snow building on parked roofs. Eventually, she reached a little corner coffee shop, the kind with mismatched chalkboard signs and fogged-up windows.
She pushed inside, the bell above the door jingling.
Warmth wrapped around her immediately, along with the smell of espresso and caramel. She ordered a caramel latte and slid into a seat by the window, scrolling absentmindedly through her phone, not really reading anything.
Few minutes into absentmindedly going through her phone. She heard her name.
"Hey Amy?"
A familiar voice cut through the gentle buzz of the café.
She looked up startled only to see Ethan standing near her table, coat dusted with snow, hair falling into his eyes like he ran a mile just to get here.
"Wow," he said, smiling. "Didn't expect to see you out in this weather."
Amy laughed, genuinely. "I could say the same. What are you doing here?"
"Escaping house fever," he replied, shrugging out of his coat. "And, apparently, running into a caramel-latte coincidence."
She rolled her eyes but her smile widened. "Sit."
He did.
"Rough morning?" he asked, not prying, just gently noticing.
Amy looked at her latte, fingers wrapped around the warm cup. "Just… thinking."
"Well," Ethan said, leaning back in the chair, "lucky for you, I specialize in distracting people from their thoughts."
Amy laughed again.
"You disappeared" He said.
Amy rolled her eyes playfully. "I didn't disappear. I wander."
"Uh...huh," he said, sipping his coffee. "Like a mysterious novelist drifting through snowstorms, searching for inspiration."
She felt that pinch in her chest again,the one that reminded her she used to feel inspired. She picked up her phone just to have something to hold. "Actually, Mrs. Thompson called," she said. "People have been asking about Anne Marie at the store."
"I want to continue it. I just…" She shrugged. "I don't know if I'm in the right place for that yet."
"Hey," Ethan said gently, resting his arms on the table. "Inspiration doesn't come when life is calm. Most writers I know say their best ideas came when things were confusing, messy, almost unbearable."
Amy smiled faintly. "Appealing advice from someone who doesn't write."
"I write emails," he said proudly. "Very inspiring ones."
They both laughed, and it eased something tight between her ribs.
Silence settled, not heavy, just… familiar. Comfortable. Outside, a car eased by slowly, its tires crunching through thin ice and a Christmas song playing inside it.
Ethan cleared his throat, and she noticed a quick shift in him....like his bravado took a step back.
"Actually," he said, rubbing his palms together, "there's something I wanted to ask you. Totally random, and you can absolutely say no."
Amy blinked. "Okay…"
"So my mom," he began, grimacing, "thinks I'm incapable of finding someone to bring home for Christmas dinner. Every year she reminds me that my brother is married, my sister is in a relationship, and I'm…" He gestured vaguely in the air. "Tragically single."
Amy nearly choked on her drink. "What?"
"Yeah." Ethan made a helpless face. "They have this tradition, everyone brings a plus-one. It's dumb, it's harmless, but now it's become like… a competition." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Last year my cousin literally hired an actress."
Amy stared at him, wide-eyed. "No."
"Yes." He sighed. "He paid her like 800 bucks to pretend she loved dogs and wine tastings. It was ridiculous."
Amy burst out laughing, hand over her face.
"Your mom....did she find out?" She asked still laughing.
"Oh hell no...I'm the only one who knows" he said laughing at her smile.
"So," Ethan said, tapping his fingers on the table, "if and only if you want to, nothing else attached, would you be my plus-one this year? Just to help me avoid the humiliation of being roasted for two straight hours by people who share the same DNA as me."
Amy looked at him, cup halfway to her lips. It would've been easy to say yes. It would've been easier to say no. Instead, she felt this strange warmth,an invitation into something uncomplicated, something that wasn't wrapped in her mother's reaching out or Jace's careful concern.
She hesitated. "Ethan…"
"Hey," he said quickly, raising both hands, "no pressure at all. Seriously. If you don't say yes, nothing's wrong at all. It's either you or a paid actress. But if you say yes,you might enjoy a night of terrible sweaters and peppermint cookies"
Amy laughed again, but quieter this time. She took another sip.
"I'd love to but I have other engagements this holiday"
"No worries at all.....I guess it's back to looking for an actress. I might have to pay more than 500 bucks after all".
That made her laugh again.
Outside, the snow thickened, turning the street white. After a while, Ethan checked his phone and stood. "I should probably get going. Conference call in thirty minutes."
She stood too, slipping her coat on. "Thanks for stopping by."
"Thanks for randomly showing up in places where caramel lattes exist," he said, pulling his beanie over his ears. He walked to the counter to grab his order.
They walked to the door together, shoulder-to-shoulder, and stepped outside. Snow brushed her cheeks like cold fingertips. Ethan shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced over. "Hey," he said. "Just… take care of yourself, okay?"
Amy breathed out, watching the fog of it drift away. "I'm will"
"I know," he replied.
Then he gave her a small wave and headed down the street, boots crunching through the snow.
Amy stood there for a long, long moment, watching him go, the warm echo of laughter still lingering in her chest. Eventually she tucked her phone into her coat pocket and began walking back toward the apartment, the sky settling white all around her.
And somewhere in the middle of all that cold, something inside her....small, stubborn.....felt almost like hope.
.....
Amy pushed the apartment door shut behind her and kicked off a little snow from her boots. The smell hit her immediately,garlic, herbs, something simmering on the stove. Jace was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, trying to follow a recipe on his phone while stirring with one hand.
She slipped off her coat, dropped her beanie on the couch, and walked over quietly. Before he could turn around, she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades.
Jace startled a little, but relaxed into her touch.
"Hey," he murmured, reaching down to cover her hands with his. "Feeling better?"
"A lot better," she said, voice low, honest. Then, after a beat, "And… yes"
He turned to face her. " And yes what?"
She bit her bottom lip, then looked up at him with a sudden clarity in her eyes.
"Yes," she said again, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I'd love to go to Virginia with you for the holidays."
It took him a second to register it, like the words hit him one at a time. Then his whole expression broke into pure, boyish joy.
"Are you serious?" he asked, voice low, excited.
She nodded. "Serious. I'd love to go to Virginia with you." she repeated.
The joy in his voice was so genuine she couldn't help but smile. That was all he needed. He cupped her face, leaned in, and kissed her.....long, relieved, grateful. When he pulled back, she was laughing softly against his mouth.
"I miss Charlottesville," Amy said, leaning on the counter, eyes bright now. "I can't wait for Elizabeth to take me to that place she promised. We never got to do it last time."
"She'll be thrilled," Jace told her, brushing a thumb across her cheek. "All of them will be."
"Really?" She asked.
"Oh, she will," Jace said. "She'll probably plan an entire itinerary. Just warning you."
Amy rolled her eyes with a smile. "As long as it's somewhere with hot chocolate, I'm in."
She nodded toward the stove. "Also… what is that??"
Jace laughed, flicking off the heat.
"Forget dinner". Jace glanced over, then back at her, grinning. "You are far more important than dinner."
She gave him a playful look. "Really? Even more important than whatever heart-attack meal you're experimenting on right now?"
"I can always order takeout. You're way more important."
Amy raised a brow. "Smooth."
"True," he corrected, kissing her again. Then, without warning, he scooped her up, one arm behind her knees.
"Jace!" she yelped, laughing and grabbing his shoulders.
He guided her toward the hallway.
"Room," he said simply.
"Bossy," she muttered, still smiling into his shoulder.
"You love it," he replied, kissing her temple as they disappeared down the hall.
And she did.... more than she could say.
And for the first time all day, the heaviness was gone replaced with something simple and solid.
Hope.
Home.
And December snow melting on the floor by the door.