Marriage proposals: 1
Marriage proposals turned down: 1
Perfect romances ended: 1 (Bad)
“I’m leaving.”
It jolts me from sleep and I sit up, trying to get my bearings. “Nick? What are you talking about?”
He’s pacing – hobbling – back and forth across the living room in front of me. “This can’t carry on. You’re exhausted.”
“I’m fine,” I say automatically. A few more days have passed and I’ve fallen asleep on the sofa again.
“You’re not fine. You get in at six every morning and barely manage to get two hours of sleep before you’re rushing off to do my job. You get home from that and barely manage a nap before you’re rushing off to do your job. All of this is my fault, Em. I can’t just stand here and watch you killing yourself.”
“I’m fine, Nick,” I say again. “I can manage for a couple more weeks; you’ll probably be all healed up by then. The doctor said he thought you’d get the casts off just after Christmas.”
“Christmas is another two weeks away. This can’t go on. You have no life besides working and running around after me. I know you miss your friends; you haven’t seen them for ages.”
He’s right. I used to be on the day shift more often than not. All the people I was friends with don’t do night shifts at all if they can get out of it, and I do miss them. I haven’t seen Tess for weeks.
“They understand,” I say, which is a complete lie because obviously I haven’t told them that I’m currently spending my days sweeping chimneys for Santa Claus’s son.
“I’m going to go back,” he says.
“What do you mean, go back?” A feeling of dread settles itself in my stomach. “Go back where?”
“Back to the North Pole, of course. If I go back then it’ll stop all the chimney sweeping. You can get back to your life and pretend you never met me.”
“But you don’t want to go back, Nick. I don’t want you to go back.”
“No, I don’t, but I can’t let you carry on like this. You’re so tired you can barely open your eyes most mornings.”
“It’s just for a little while.”
“It’s already been going on for too long. I shouldn’t have asked you to do my job, and I should never have let you continue with it after I woke up. It’s high time I stepped up to the plate and faced my responsibilities.”
“You can’t sweep chimneys with an arm and a leg in plaster. And your ribs are still causing you grief.”
“I don’t mean those responsibilities. I mean that it’s time to go back to the North Pole for good and start my training, then the penance and probation will be over.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why not? What’s the point in staying here? I’m just putting off the inevitable. I have to go back in two years’ time, what’s the difference in going now?”
“Because you don’t want to.”
“But I don’t want to stay here and watch you killing yourself because of me. You’ve been walking around like a zombie for days, your eyes are sunken, your appetite has all but disappeared, and it’s my fault. The only option is for me to go back and take on the job I was supposed to do. It doesn’t matter if I do it now or in two years, does it?”
“Yes!” I shout, suddenly gripped by the fear I’m going to lose him. “You can’t just go.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t lose you yet. We’ve only just found each other.” I swallow around the lump in my throat. He can’t go. He cannot just get up and leave like it’s nothing. What am I supposed to do without him?
“You could come with me.”
I stare at him in surprise.
“Oh God, I’m sorry, that was supposed to be more romantic than that. What I mean is, you could marry me, you know, if you wanted. Er, that wasn’t any better, was it?” He comes over and sits beside me on the sofa. Christmas music is muted on the TV and it strikes me that this might be the weirdest proposal ever. Not many girls get proposed to with glam-rock Wizzard in the background singing about how they wish it could be Christmas every day.
“What I mean is,” Nick continues, “I can’t get down on one knee with these casts on, but I don’t want to lose you yet either. I love you, Em. I think I have since I first saw you in the park. Maybe that accident was the best thing that ever happened to me because it brought us together. I want you to be my wife, my Mrs Claus. I’m terrified of trying to be Santa, but with you by my side, I think I could face anything.”
I stare at him. I know my mouth is open in shock, but I can’t find the words to make come out of it.
“Please say something.”
“I…um…I don’t know what to say.” Gorgeous Dog Walker has just asked me to marry him. This man who I’ve imagined bursting into the supermarket, scaling the checkouts and getting down on one knee on the item belt has actually just proposed. I should be ecstatic but the reality has made me realise why things like this are supposed to stay daydreams. Handsome strangers proposing marriage at first sight is a lovely fantasy, but in real life, you can’t marry someone you barely know. “This is too much, Nick. I’ve only known you for a few weeks and you were unconscious for most of them. How can I marry you just like that? I can’t be Mrs Claus. I can’t move to the North Pole. What about Button? Button hates the snow.”
“The elves could knit him some booties.”
“Oh, well, that solves everything then. It’s as simple as new knitwear?” I realise I’m angry. I’m so scared of losing him that I’m angry with him. “You can’t just throw this on me. You can’t expect me to marry a guy I’ve only known for a few weeks and move to a different country that I didn’t even know existed until a few weeks ago.” I take a deep breath. “You can’t do this. Please. Stay here for two more years like you planned. Give us a chance, maybe then we could work something out.”
“I can’t stay here and watch you working yourself into an early grave. You’re exhausted and the only thing my stupid, broken body can do to help is by taking chimney sweeping out of the equation. It’s time I stopped running away from the inevitable. I’d like you to come with me but only if you want to.”
I shake my head, not refusing, just completely shocked by this and unsure of how to react.
“I know it’s a lot to ask but you love Christmas,” he says. “I know you do. And I think you might love me. I can see the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching. I feel the way you brush my hair off my forehead when you think I’m sleeping. And you hate your job; you feel life is passing you by. Up there you’d have a job you loved, something that really made a difference. And it’s not like you’d be chucked in head first; my mum will still be there. She’ll show you the ropes until you’re more confident.”
“She didn’t see my gingerbread splodge the other day,” I mutter.
“You’d get the hang of it. Besides, we’re young, we could change things up a bit. We could make it a new and modern North Pole where Mrs Claus makes perfume or something. You don’t have to be the traditional apron-wearing type with a rolling pin always in hand. We could be different. I’ll shave every day if you don’t like beards, and if you’re worried about my cookie consumption then we’ll start asking children to leave plates of broccoli out for Santa. Or I’ll eat the carrots and feed the cookies to the reindeer. Trust me, they’ll be much happier with that compromise. Please, Emma.” He squeezes my hand. “Think about it.”
What am I doing? A gorgeous man who, yes, I might be a little bit in love with too, is not only asking me to marry him but begging me to. I’m torn. Half of me wants to throw caution to the wind and say yes, but the sensible half is screaming inside me. It’s too much. It was insane to move in with him, but this just takes the biscuit of insanity. I can’t marry him. I can’t go to the North Pole – which I’m still not sure is real – and take over a job that his mum does. It would be like a twisted reality TV show, a hare-brained mash-up of The Apprentice and The Great British Bake-Off with added in-laws – a perfect Mrs Claus I can never match up to.
Yes, I love Christmas. If the North Pole is anything like it is in the movies then I’d love it there, but I still don’t know how it can be real. What if this is all a fantasy in his and Twinkle’s heads? What if it’s all a fantasy in my head? God, what if I’m the one in the coma? Maybe I’ve been dreaming all along. That would make a lot more sense than it all being real.
There’s a lump in my throat and I have to swallow hard before I can speak. “I’m not ready for this now, Nick. I’ve only just met you. I thought we had two years.”
“So that’s it?”
“No, that’s not it.” I can feel my eyes welling up, desperate for this not to be happening, fear building inside me. “I want you to stay. I don’t care about the chimney sweeping or the night shifts. I’ll give up my job if you want. I’ll sign onto the dole and when you’re back to being fit and well, I’ll find a new job. Please, Nick, I’ll do anything to keep you here.”
“And I can’t ask you to do that. Jobs are hard to find these days. Besides, you can’t just leave your job; you’d have to give notice and work for the next few weeks anyway. It’s pointless.”
“So I’ll do something to get myself fired: strip off and streak through the freezer aisles with a frozen turkey on my head or something. That’ll make the managers send me packing instantly.”
“That’d look great on your résumé when trying to find a new job. It’s not about the jobs, Em. It’s too much to ask of you when you’re not a hundred per cent sure, and me staying here for another two years won’t make a difference to that. Moving to the North Pole is a big commitment. It’s not just about marrying me, it’s about committing to Christmas three hundred and sixty-five days a year. I couldn’t ask you to give up life as you know it for that.”
“What about in two years?” I ask. “You’re giving up two years of your life, the life you wanted, just because I’m a bit tired. I can catch up on sleep. I’ll quit my job. Anything to get you to stay.”
“And what happens in two years, Em? Will you agree to marry me then? Will you want to be Mrs Claus then?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then it’s too much to ask—”
“I’m not saying no. I just need more time, Nick. I love Christmas. The North Pole sounds lovely.” I think I might love you. “It could work. It’s just too much and too soon now. Please stay here. We’ll get through the next few weeks and then you’ll be back to sweeping chimneys and I’ll be on the day shift again. Everything will be great after that.”
“Getting through the next few weeks is the problem. You can’t carry on working the way you are. You’re so run-down and tired, you’re going to get ill or you’re going to end up having an accident because you can’t see straight. I need you safe and well. Secondly, this isn’t going to change. I have to go back there in two years. You coming with me is a lot to ask, and two years won’t change the sacrifices you’d have to make to live there.”
“But I don’t know if I want to come with you. You can’t just spring this kind of thing on me and expect an answer here and now. We could have split up in two years anyway.” My voice is shaking and I can feel my hands trembling. This perfect relationship is going to end because of me, because I can’t give him a solid answer. How can I make such a huge commitment after such a short amount of time?
He shakes his head. “I don’t think we will. And I’m pretty sure you don’t either.”
“I don’t,” I admit.
“I’m sorry. It’s too much to ask. I shouldn’t have even mentioned it. I know you love Christmas, so do I, but it got too much for me and I had to leave eventually. It would be such a culture shock to you. It’s cold there. There are hardly any shops, just one main street full of quirky little places that are rarely open because all the elves spend their time making toys. You see the same elves every day, and they’re great but it gets a bit tedious hanging out with them twenty-four-seven. You’d miss your friends here; you’d miss the simple sight of other humans.”
“Would I be able to come back to visit?”
“My dad doesn’t like people to leave the North Pole. I might be able to persuade him to let us have a holiday once a year in the off-season if he’s feeling generous.”
“That’s crazy. You can’t just expect me to never see Tess or any of my friends again.”
“I know.” He sighs. “I’m Santa’s son. I come with baggage. It’s only fair that you know about it now. Marrying me is not just a simple ‘I do’, it’s committing to a totally different life than the one you’re used to and I couldn’t expect you to do that if it wasn’t what you wanted.”
“I’m not sure what I want, Nick. This is ridiculous!”
“That’s it then. I love you but I want you safe, not stumbling around like the undead because of me. I’ll go tonight.”
“Will you come back?”
“I can’t. Once I start training, I can’t leave the North Pole, not until I officially take over the job. Maybe next year I’ll wave to you on Christmas Eve.”
“Nick, you can’t. You’re being unreasonable here. You can’t just throw this away because I’m a bit tired.” I know I’m begging now but I don’t know what else to do.
“It’s more than that. I’m hurting you, harming you, by staying.”
“No, you’re not.”
“And I know when you’re lying. The same as I know you’re not fine when you say you are. I’m sorry, Em, I really am. I wanted you to come with me. I don’t know how to face it all without you, but I don’t want to take you away from your friends and your life here. It was unfair of me to even ask.”
“Please. Nick, please stay.” I’m clinging on to his hand much too tightly, like if I hold on hard enough, he won’t go.
“If I get enough training in, maybe I’ll even be able to join Dad on this year’s Christmas run. Look for a bright moving star on Christmas Eve. I’ll wave from the sleigh.”
“Nick…”
“The house is yours. I know you never found the safe before but it’s behind the wardrobe in the bedroom. The deeds are in there. I’ve already taken them to a solicitor and signed them over to you.”
“And that’s it?” I shout at him. “After everything, that’s it? Here’s a house, bye? It’s not good enough, Nick. It’s not enough. I don’t want your bloody house; I want you.”
“And I want you, Em, but we can’t carry on like this.” He leans down and kisses me, not quite on the lips but close enough. I twist my fingers in the hair at the back of his neck and try to hold on tight enough to stop him leaving. After what feels like hours of just breathing against each other’s skin, he pulls back. “I love you.”
“I…” I can’t make myself say it. I feel it. I think I do. But what does it change? If he’s not going to listen to me, if he’s going to disappear because I fall asleep on the sofa most nights, then why say it? I can’t go with him and I can’t make him stay.
He shuts the door quietly behind him and Rudolph but it sounds like a deafening slam.
Button jumps up onto my lap and climbs until he can reach my face and I wrap my arms around his podgy little body and cuddle him to me, trying to fill the gaping hole in the centre of my chest where Nick has been for weeks… Oh, who am I kidding? Nick has been a huge part of my life for months now, since the very first time I laid eyes on him in the park, and now he’s gone.
I stare at the closed door, willing him to come back in. He doesn’t.
Button doesn’t seem to mind me crying all over him.
Tears fall as I replay everything in my head, from the very first nod in the park to the last kiss. How can the best thing in my life be over?