Christmas Eve arrived wrapped in stillness.
Snow lay smooth and unbroken outside the cabin, as if the world itself had decided to pause. Inside, the fire glowed low and steady, the scent of pine and sugar cookies lingering in the air.
Bella woke with a strange calm in her chest.
For the first time in months, she didn't feel like she was running from something—or bracing for the next disappointment. She felt present. Grounded.
She dressed quietly and stepped into the living room.
Ethan was already awake, sitting at the small table with a mug of coffee cradled between his hands. He looked up when he heard her, his expression softening instantly.
"Merry Christmas Eve," he said.
She smiled. "Merry Christmas Eve."
They stood there for a moment, neither quite sure who should move first. Then Lily came skidding down the hallway in fuzzy slippers, laughter spilling out of her.
"It's Christmas Eve! That means today is special!" she announced.
Ethan chuckled. "Every day is special to you."
"Yes, but today is extra," Lily said seriously. She turned to Bella. "You're staying for dinner, right?"
Bella met Ethan's eyes before answering. He gave a small nod—no pressure, just quiet hope.
"Yes," Bella said. "I'm staying."
Lily beamed and threw her arms around Bella's waist. Bella hugged her back, heart full.
⸻
The day passed gently.
They cooked together—Ethan handling the practical steps, Bella decorating cookies with Lily, flour ending up everywhere. They played music softly in the background, old holiday songs that felt nostalgic without being overwhelming.
At one point, Bella caught Ethan watching her and Lily from the doorway, his face unreadable.
"What?" she asked lightly.
"Nothing," he said. "Just… noticing."
That evening, after Lily fell asleep early—worn out from excitement and sugar—they sat by the fire again. The cabin lights were dim, the world outside quiet.
Bella wrapped her hands around a mug of tea. "Thank you for today."
Ethan shook his head. "No. Thank you."
"For what?"
"For choosing to stay," he said. "I didn't realize how much I needed that."
Bella's breath caught. "I didn't realize how much I did either."
Silence settled—but it wasn't empty.
Ethan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I've been thinking about something."
She waited.
"I'm not good at saying the right things," he continued. "But I want to be clear about one thing. I'm not playing games with you."
"I know," Bella said softly.
"If this… becomes something," he said carefully, "it'll be slow. Honest. And maybe a little scary."
Her lips curved into a small smile. "That sounds… real."
He nodded. "Good."
Bella set her mug aside. Her heart beat louder now, awareness sharpening. She stood, walked toward the window, then turned back to him.
"Ethan?"
"Yes?"
She took a breath. "If we're being honest… I think I'm already falling."
His chest rose sharply. He stood too, closing the space between them—slowly, as if giving her time to step back.
She didn't.
He stopped just inches away. "Bella," he said, voice low, reverent. "I've been fighting that same feeling since the storm."
Her hand lifted on its own, resting lightly against his chest. His heartbeat was strong beneath her palm.
"Then stop fighting," she whispered.
Ethan hesitated only a second more—then leaned in.
The kiss was gentle. Unhurried. A question rather than a claim.
Bella answered it.
Their lips met softly, warmth spreading through her in a way that felt safe and inevitable. Ethan's hand came up to cradle her cheek, thumb brushing her skin as if memorizing the moment.
When they pulled back, neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
Ethan rested his forehead against hers. "Merry Christmas, Bella."
She smiled, eyes shining. "Merry Christmas, Ethan."
Outside, snow began to fall again—quiet, steady, and beautiful.
And for the first time in a long while, neither of them felt alone.