From his position in the armchair by the fireplace, Logan watched the idyllic vignette of Abby and Max decorating the Christmas tree. The white and colored bulbs glittered against the bay window, accentuated by the backdrop of the night sky. Vanilla- and gingerbread-scented candles flickered on the coffee table beside the treats Abby had baked that afternoon and a festive playlist emanated from the Bluetooth speakers on the nearby credenza.
Never in a million years had he thought he’d ever glimpse such a joyful, heartwarming sight. And certainly not in his own home.
Abby laughed at something Max said, filling the room with the blissful sound, and his chest ached at the possibility of never hearing it again.
He thought of the plan he’d been formulating over the past few days. What were the chances she’d say yes? Probably slim.
He took a sip of eggnog, hoping to wash away his nervous tension.
“This is the last one,” Abby announced, wiggling a wooden nutcracker. “Care to do the honors?” She flashed him an inviting smile, and his heartbeat faltered, leaving him momentarily speechless.
With her hazel eyes shimmering in the light from the tree and her soft waves of dark hair spilling around her shoulders, she looked distractingly beautiful. He’d never wanted anyone more in his life, and not simply because of her beauty. Her loving selflessness illuminated everything she touched, especially in this moment with Max.
Logan knew it couldn’t be easy for her to hang the ornaments she’d collected with Donnie over the years. When she first arrived in Blessings Bay, she’d wanted to ban even a hint of the holiday. Now, the spirit of Christmas surrounded them, warming the entire room. And Abby didn’t merely suffer through it, putting on a brave face; she embodied it with every fiber of her being.
He couldn’t help wondering if, in her own way, she was beginning to move on, to finally heal. And if so, what did that mean for their future? Did they even have one? Or was it merely wishful thinking?
“Logan?” She tilted her head to the side, peering at him curiously, and he realized he’d been sitting in a silent daze for who knows how long.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry. I’d love to hang the last ornament.” After setting down his glass of eggnog, he joined them by the tree.
Their fingers grazed as she passed him the nutcracker, and for a moment, the music stilled and the lights blurred, obscuring every detail except for Abby’s luminous gaze, which held his own.
Although she looked away first, he noticed the pretty blush dappling her cheeks. So, he hadn’t been imagining everything. There was something between them; he just wasn’t sure how deep the connection ran.
It took all of his self-control to redirect his attention to the overflowing branches, searching for an empty space while he collected his composure. The room suddenly felt too warm for his heavy-knit sweater.
After a minute of careful scrutiny, he settled on a spot between a snowman and an angel. The fragrant bough dipped with the weight. “What do you think?” he asked, taking a step back to survey his handiwork.
“It’s the best tree ever!” Max beamed his approval before skipping toward the table for another brownie.
“It’s perfect,” Abby murmured, her eyes glistening. “Donnie would love it.”
At the slight tremor in her voice, Logan reached for her hand, and together, they gazed at the tree in reverent silence.
“I was wrong,” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.
“About what?” He studied her features, trying to read her emotions.
“About skipping Christmas. I’d convinced myself that it was what I needed, and that Donnie would understand. But deep down, I knew he’d be disappointed. He would call me out for running away, for hiding from Christmas… for hiding him.” Her voice cracked, and Logan tightened his gasp.
With her free hand, Abby slipped the dog chain from beneath her collar. “He’d want to be honored, not hidden away. And he’d want to be a part of my life, not keep me from living it.” She slid her hand from his and pulled the chain over her head. Tears gleamed in her eyes as she took a step toward the tree and gingerly looped the memento around a focal branch. Her fingers caressed the cool metal before she let her hand fall to her side.
Wordlessly, Logan wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him, smiling through her tears. “The only thing he’d like better than being immortalized as a Christmas ornament would be getting to be the tree topper.” She laughed softly.
Logan mirrored her smile, too moved to speak.
The silver dog tag twinkled amid the string lights, as if Donnie himself had made it gleam in a secret greeting. And, in a strange way, gave his blessing.
“Guess what?” Max interrupted his thoughts.
Kneeling beside the box of Abby and Donnie’s ornaments, Max brandished a glass bauble that appeared hand-painted in swathes of red and gold. “There’s one more ornament.”
Abby’s breath caught.
At her startled expression, Logan’s heartbeat stalled.
Why did she look like she’d just seen a ghost?
For several seconds, Abby couldn’t breathe.
The ornament—the one she’d made with Donnie right before he died, before they had a chance to write their notes. She thought she’d packed it separately.
“Are you okay?” Logan asked gently.
She nodded, automatically at first, but as her breathing steadied, she realized she didn’t feel as devastated as she thought she would. The bittersweet memories tasted far less bitter. She even managed a smile. “Donnie and I made that.”
“You made it?” Max asked, studying the swirls of paint. “How?”
“With nail polish and warm water, if you can believe it.” She laughed at his frown of skepticism. “It’s quite simple, actually. I can show you tomorrow, if you’d like.”
“Okay.” His face brightened, and he stood, as though prepared to hang it on the tree.
“Why don’t we let Abby hang this one?” Logan suggested.
Her heart warmed at his thoughtfulness, and she offered him a grateful smile as Max carried it toward her.
She’d barely broken their gaze in time to see Max stumble over the edge of the tree skirt.
Every muscle in her body clenched as the ornament soared from his grasp and shattered against the hardwood floor.
Panic splashed across Max’s face, and all the air seemed to drain from the room.
“It’s okay,” she consoled him, somehow finding her voice. Although, the calm, cool tone sounded like it came from somebody else. “Be careful where you step. I’ll get a broom.”
Her feet carried her into the kitchen, and as soon as she crossed the threshold, the tears fell, soft and slow. She leaned against the counter, her chest rising and falling as she tried to collect herself. Realizing she felt shock more than anything, she rubbed the sleeve of her sweater against her damp cheeks, settling down.
A floorboard creaked, and she glanced up to see Logan standing in the doorway. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she assured him for the second time that night. “It’s been an emotional evening. I think it just caught me off guard.” She straightened, heading for the broom closet.
“Wait, Abs. There’s something you should see.”
The tenderness in his tone gave her pause.
He held a tiny scroll of white paper in his hand. “I found this when I was picking up the larger pieces of glass. I think it was inside the ornament.”
Her pulse thrummed, setting every nerve on edge.
A note? But how was that possible? Had Donnie written his wish early?
Fresh tears filled her eyes at the possibility.
Logan pressed the scroll into her open palm. “I’ll go so you can have some privacy.”
“Don’t go.” She couldn’t explain it, but she wanted him to stay. His presence gave her courage as she untied the thin string and unrolled the coiled paper.
Tears blurred her vision as she stared at Donnie’s chicken-scratch handwriting.
My Juliet,
This year’s wish comes with a confession. I let my pride over not being able to give you a child get in the way of us having a family. I have no doubt that you’ll be an incredible mother. And that’s my wish for the coming year, even if I can’t be the one to make it happen.
Love,
Your Romeo
A quiet sob escaped her lips as her heart shattered and mended all at once.
From beyond the grave, Donnie had given her a gift.
And she’d never needed it more.