Chapter 10

10

D enise swirled the last sip of wine in her glass, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. The day had flowed with an unexpected ease. She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed cooking, and with Alyssa helping her, it hadn’t been overwhelming or stressful. It had all gone better than Denise could have expected.

Alyssa reached for the wine bottle. The flames from the fireplace cast a warm glow across the living room, catching the subtle highlights in Alyssa’s dark hair. Without her hair in a ponytail and practical work clothes, she looked different tonight. The emerald sweater complemented her skin tone, and her hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders.

Denise blinked, realizing she’d been staring.

“More wine?” Alyssa’s voice broke through her thoughts.

Denise cleared her throat. “Yes. Please.”

Denise’s gaze drifted back to Alyssa as she topped up their glasses. The way the firelight danced across Alyssa’s features, softening her usually determined expression, caught Denise off guard.

Denise quickly looked away, pushing those thoughts aside. She chalked it up to being single for as long as she had been. It was just a natural response, nothing more. After all, it had been nearly eight years since Melanie left, unable to bear the secrecy any longer.

The memories of those final arguments still stung. Melanie had been out and proud, while Denise remained firmly in the closet, terrified of the consequences. Their time together had stirred up rumors, but they’d always maintained the facade of friendship.

Denise sighed, swirling the wine in her glass. She knew she wouldn’t be the first actress to come out. Times had changed. Maybe now, she could finally be honest about who she was. But back then? The risk had seemed too great.

“You okay?” Alyssa’s gentle question pulled Denise from her thoughts.

She met Alyssa’s concerned gaze, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just... thinking about the past.”

Alyssa held her gaze, her eyes soft with concern. “What happened with your father, Denise?” Her voice was hesitant, treading carefully on delicate ground.

Denise looked away, the warmth of the fire suddenly feeling too close. She didn’t answer right away.

Alyssa quickly backpedaled. “Forget I asked. I didn’t mean to pry.” She reached for her wine glass and took a drink.

Denise sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. I just don’t want to bring down the mood. Today has been... nice.”

But Alyssa’s curiosity was piqued. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, the wine glass cradled in her hands now. “It can’t be that bad.”

Denise took a long sip of wine, letting the rich cabernet coat her tongue. The warmth spread through her chest, but it did nothing to ease the tightness there. Her fingers traced the rim of the glass as she weighed her options.

No one knew. Not her agent, not her co-stars, not even the tabloids that had spent years speculating about her love life. Melanie had been the only one who truly knew her, and that relationship had crumbled under the weight of secrecy.

But Alyssa... Alyssa understood what it meant to lose family over something you couldn’t change.

The fire crackled, sending sparks dancing up the chimney.

“My father and I were close once. Until I was nineteen, we did everything together. He taught me to drive in his old pickup truck. We’d spend weekends maintaining the trees. He came to every high school play.”

Denise’s voice trailed off, the memories of happier times with her father lingering in the air. She hesitated, the weight of her secret pressing against her chest. Did she really want to open that door? To let Alyssa see the parts of herself she’d kept hidden for so long?

Alyssa waited patiently, her eyes soft with understanding. She didn’t push, didn’t pry. Just sat there, a steady presence in the flickering firelight.

Denise took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the wine glass. She could still back out. Change the subject, steer the conversation to safer waters. But something about the way Alyssa looked at her, the way she listened without judgment, made Denise want to tell her.

“What changed?” Alyssa asked gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

Denise closed her eyes, the memories rushing back. The day she’d come out to her father, the shock and disappointment on his face. The way he’d looked at her like she was a stranger, like he didn’t recognize his own daughter anymore.

“I told him I was gay,” Denise said, her voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. “I was nineteen, and I couldn’t keep pretending anymore. I thought... I thought he’d understand. That he’d love me no matter what.”

She opened her eyes, meeting Alyssa’s gaze.

Alyssa’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open in shock. She set her wine glass down on the coffee table. “I had no idea.” She looked away and then turned to look at her again, disbelief still written all over her face. “I can’t believe it if I’m being completely honest.”

A smile tugged at Denise’s lips. “I managed to keep my private life private. I always put my career first, or at least that’s what I let the public believe. “

Alyssa’s brow furrowed, confusion etched across her features. “But your father... I only ever knew Wayne to be understanding. He never judged me.”

Denise met Alyssa’s eyes. “So you can see why I was so shocked that you had his support, that you were included in the will. It was the exact opposite of what I’d experienced.”

Alyssa leaned back, her expression softening with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. For all of it.”

Denise shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but the tightness in her chest betrayed her true emotions. “It’s in the past now. But it’s why I left, why I never came back. I couldn’t face him, couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in his eyes every time he looked at me.”

She took another sip of wine, letting the rich liquid warm her throat. “I threw myself into my career, determined to prove that I didn’t need his approval. The one time I did put myself out there, she left me. Because she couldn’t handle keeping us a secret.”

Alyssa looked like she wanted to ask her a question, but she didn’t, her eyes searching Denise’s. “I wish I could tell you what happened… What changed.”

Denise brought her glass to her lips and took a sip. “I think it was you.”

Alyssa just stared at her. “Me?”

“When I think back… My father tried to reach out about twelve years ago. I’d just won an Oscar and I thought he was just trying to cash in on my fame or I don’t know…”

“That’s when I came out to him,” Alyssa said softly. “I was a senior in high school. My girlfriend picked me up after work one evening, and she kissed me. I knew Wayne must have seen us. He’d been standing just a few feet away. So I decided to tell him the next morning.”

“And what did he say?”

Alyssa looked up as if she was trying to keep her unshed tears from falling. “Nothing. He just pulled me into a hug.”

Denise inhaled a shaky breath. Even though she knew something like that had happened, it was still hard to hear it. How she wished her father had reacted like that.

Alyssa kept talking. “If that was twelve years ago, you’d already been gone… What?”

“Fourteen years.”

“Jesus.” Alyssa wiped away a tear. “He must have regretted the way he’d left things with you.”

“I don’t know. He never tried to get in touch. Not until after you came out to him it seems.” Denise downed the rest of her wine. “I don’t know what to think, really, other than he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.”

“And when you said that he tried to reach out…”

Denise shook her head. “I ignored his calls.”

Alyssa exhaled. She wiped a hand across her face. “I’m sorry.”

Denise gave her a lopsided smile. “It’s all in the past now. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

She’d shared more with Alyssa than she had with anyone in years. It felt strange, but for once Denise wasn’t worried about the consequences. She glanced at Alyssa, who was watching the fire. Denise knew Alyssa wouldn’t tell anyone. She wasn’t sure why she trusted her, but she did.

“I still think, especially this time of year, that my parents will reach out,” Alyssa said softly, turning to meet Denise’s gaze. She looked away again. “I know it’s silly to think that, but I do.”

Denise swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “It’s not.” She pressed her lips together. “I’d like to think that my mother would have just hugged me and told me she loved me, but I’m not really sure.”

Alyssa topped up both of their glasses without asking. She turned to face Denise on the couch then. “I knew that Wayne had been married, but he never really said what happened to his wife. Just that she’d been gone a long time. I guess, I assumed that she’d been sick.”

Denise shook her head. “She died in a snowmobile accident. On Christmas Eve.” She took a drink. “When I was eleven.”

The color drained from Alyssa’s face. Her wine glass froze halfway to her lips, and she set it back down without taking a drink.

Denise’s chest tightened at the raw empathy in Alyssa’s eyes. She’d seen that look countless times - pity, sympathy, the awkward silence that followed whenever someone learned about her mother’s death. But Alyssa’s reaction felt different. There was understanding there, a shared pain that went beyond mere sympathy.

“Christmas Eve.” Alyssa’s voice came out barely above a whisper. She shifted closer on the couch, her knee almost touching Denise’s. “That’s why you...” She trailed off, realization dawning on her face. “I mean, one thing would be enough, but both of them? No wonder you wanted to sell and get out of here as soon as possible.”

Denise looked away, unable to hold Alyssa’s gaze.

“I’m sorry that I jumped to conclusions,” Alyssa said softly. “I had no idea. I just thought you were…”

“I was what?” Denise asked, a hint of a smile coming to her lips.

“A stereotypical Hollywood diva?”

“No. Well, according to some people I’m difficult to work with,” Denise said as she got up to put another log on the fire. “But no, I had my reasons for not wanting to be here, for not wanting to hold onto any of this for longer than necessary.” She sat down again. “I wish that we’d spoken about my mother more,” she said, thinking out loud. “I was so young. I don’t know. But my father didn’t like talking about her. After she died, he threw himself into the business. More than usual. Christmas became all about other people’s joy, other families’ happiness.” She took another sip of wine, grateful for its warmth. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t pretend to be happy during what should have been...”

“The most wonderful time of the year.”

Denise looked up, surprised by the lack of judgment in Alyssa’s voice. Most people didn’t understand how someone could hate Christmas. They’d tell her to move on, to create new memories, as if it were that simple.

“And now?” Alyssa asked.

“Now, I think I’ve come to terms with how things played out. Whether or not I’d had a good relationship with my father didn’t change the fact that I wanted to move to Los Angeles and take a shot at becoming an actress. I was always going to move away. I wish I’d answered those calls, twelve years ago, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. And I guess, I’m glad that he realized how wrong his reaction was, that maybe he was going to apologize, and at the very least, treat other people, like you, with a bit more understanding.”

The silence stretched between them, comfortable rather than awkward. Denise watched the flames dance in the fireplace, feeling lighter somehow. She hadn’t talked about her mother’s death in years, let alone shared the truth about her sexuality with anyone.

Alyssa shifted on the couch, tucking her legs under her. The movement drew Denise’s attention.

“You know what’s funny?” Denise met Alyssa’s eyes. “I spent so many years running from this place, but being back here... it’s not as painful as I thought it would be.”

“I’m glad.” Alyssa ran a hand through her hair. “And I’m glad we’ve moved on from those first few days. I’m not really one for conflict, but it was hard not to…”

Denise ran a hand through her hair as she turned to face Alyssa fully, her arm resting on the back of the couch. “I’m sorry about that. I just… You can see why I reacted like that now though, right?”

“Yeah.” Alyssa took another drink before setting her glass down on the coffee table. “I do.” She searched Denise’s eyes as she spoke. “What are we going to do about this? I can’t buy you out. And you’re right. I didn’t want to admit it, but this is a failing business. With your father, it was different. It was a family legacy. His father started the tree farm, so I think he was okay with barely breaking even as long as he could pay his staff. This house has been paid off. But for me? For us? I don’t know what we’re going to do after this year.”

Denise opened her mouth but quickly closed it again. She didn’t know what to say.

“Look, I know we said we’d talk about it in the new year,” Alyssa said, “but I can’t stop thinking about it. I know I should have taken your offer. I wouldn’t have to worry about where I’d live, but the idea of just walking away from this without even trying makes me sick.”

“Hey,” Denise said, reaching out to rest her hand on Alyssa’s. “Please, don’t be worrying about this. Whatever we decide, we’ll decide it together. I… I made that offer when I was still in shock. I can see how… Heartless it was. Considering everything. Look, you have my word that we’ll talk about this. Properly. When we get the numbers in from this season. Then we can see what we can do.”

“Yeah?” Alyssa’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“Yes. I called you out for making assumptions about me.” Denise closed her eyes for a second, remembering how she’d asked Alyssa if she’d been involved with her father, as if Alyssa had tried to con him out of his money. “I need to apologize for what I accused you of. It was so out of line. Especially when this is all so fresh. You’re still grieving, clearly.” Denise exhaled softly as she looked away, her eyes on the fireplace. “I was completely wrong about you. And I can see how you fit in so well here. I’m glad that my father had you around all these years,” she said, her throat tightening as she said those words.

Alyssa was watching her when Denise met her gaze. “Apology accepted. And for what it’s worth, I think Wayne would be proud of you for being here, for helping with the event.”

Denise shook her head, but she stopped herself from saying anything more. She couldn’t think too much about what her father might have thought of her. Because the more time she spent here, the more she was convinced that she’d got it all wrong.

Denise swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I’m just going to go get some more wood,” she said as she stood up.

“I should probably head home,” Alyssa said, standing too.

Denise glanced at the clock on the wall. It was somehow almost ten o’clock. They’d spent the whole day together, but it had flown by. And they’d also been drinking for all of those hours. “It’s too far to walk.”

Denise padded to the front door. A blast of cold air hit her face as she opened it. The porch light illuminated hundreds of fat snowflakes drifting down from the dark sky.

She grabbed an armful of logs from the stack by the door, the rough bark pressing into her sweater. The familiar scent of wood and winter filled her nostrils as she stepped back inside, pushing the door closed with her hip.

“And it’s snowing again,” she said, turning to see Alyssa still standing by the couch, gathering her things.

Denise carried the logs over to the fireplace added another to the blaze. The crackling sound filled the room. She turned to face Alyssa. “You can stay in the guest room if you want. I know there’ll be no one on the road to the cabin but…”

“No. I know. I’d never drive after I’ve had… Well, I don’t know how much I’ve had, but I wouldn’t take that risk.”

“And you can’t walk in that.”

Alyssa hesitated for a second. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

Denise felt a rush of warmth unfurl in her chest as she busied herself with the fire again, hiding her smile.

“Let me show you where the guest room is,” Denise offered as she stood up.

Denise led Alyssa up the stairs. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this light, but she pushed the feeling down, attributing it to the wine and the way things had been so easy today.

“This is it,” Denise said, flicking on the light. The room was cozy, with a queen-sized bed, and a dresser.

“Thanks.”

Denise nodded, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through her at Alyssa’s smile. “I’ll just grab some fresh sheets,” she said, turning away quickly.

As she walked down the hall to the linen closet, she couldn’t shake that light, fluttery feeling in her chest. More than once today she’d found her gaze lingering on Alyssa, especially when Denise knew she wasn’t looking. When Denise had been in the kitchen, waiting for the timer to go off, she’d leaned against the counter, taking Alyssa in as she set the table. The way her hair fell across her eyes, the way her jeans hugged her hips…

Denise caught herself mid-thought, shaking her head. She was too old for this, and definitely too old for Alyssa. Plus, her life was in Los Angeles, not here. She’d be leaving in January, whatever they decided to do about the tree farm.

Denise grabbed a set of sheets from the closet and returned to the guest room. Alyssa stood by the window, watching the snow drift down through the darkness, its quiet descent illuminated by the soft glow of the farmhouse’s outdoor lights. She turned as Denise entered, her expression soft.

“Let me help,” Alyssa said, reaching for the sheets.

Denise handed them over, their fingers brushing briefly. She ignored the spark that ignited at the touch, focusing instead on the task at hand. They worked together in silence, the only sound the rustling of the sheets and the distant hum of the wind outside.

Their fingers brushed again as they tucked in the last corner of the fitted sheet. Denise’s breath caught in her throat. She stepped back, needing space between them.

Alyssa smoothed the top sheet over the bed, her movements precise and practiced, and Denise’s gaze lingered on her. The warm light from the bedside lamp cast a golden glow across her skin. Just then, Alyssa straightened and turned, catching Denise’s stare.

Their eyes met. Heat crept up Denise’s neck, but she couldn’t look away. Alyssa’s lips parted slightly, as if she might say something. Denise’s heart hammered against her ribs.

Alyssa tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. “Could I maybe borrow something to sleep in? Just a t-shirt even.”

Denise blinked, her mind still caught in that charged moment. “Yeah, sure. Just give me a sec.”

She went down the hall to her bedroom, switching on the light. She pulled open the top drawer. She hadn’t packed enough clothes to last her for two months, so she grabbed the freshly washed flannel pants and long-sleeved top that she’d planned on wearing tonight. She’d find something else to wear.

She brought them back into the guest room. “I hope these are okay,” she said handing them to Alyssa. “They might be a little too big.”

“Thanks,” Alyssa said as she took them from her. “And I think we’re more or less the same size. It’s better than sleeping in this sweater, anyway.”

Denise hovered in the doorway. “I’ll say goodnight then.”

“Thanks for today. For inviting me. I had a really nice day,” Alyssa said, leaning against the footboard.

“So did I.”

“Goodnight.”

Denise made her way back downstairs, her footsteps heavy on the wooden stairs. The living room held traces of their evening - empty wine glasses on the coffee table, the throw blanket rumpled on the couch where they’d sat talking for hours.

She crouched by the fireplace, positioning the metal grate in front of the dying embers. The flames had dwindled to glowing coals, casting a faint orange light across the hearth.

Standing, she collected their wine glasses and carried them to the kitchen. She moved through the downstairs, switching off lights. Darkness crept in, broken only by the soft glow filtering through the windows from the porch light outside. Snow continued to fall.

She was almost disappointed to be calling it a night.

Denise climbed the stairs, trying to focus on anything else - the creaking of the old wooden steps, the soft patter of snow against the windows, what they were going to do about the tree farm. But her mind kept drifting back to those quiet moments in the kitchen, to the brush of fingers as they made the bed.

At the top of the stairs, Denise glanced toward the guest room. The light was still on, a warm glow seeping under the door. She forced herself to look away.

This was nothing. Too much wine and too many months alone. That was all it was. Of course, she’d notice someone attractive, especially someone kind and passionate like Alyssa. But that’s all it was. Nothing worth dwelling on.

Tomorrow morning, she’d wake up clear-headed. She’d remember all the reasons why this was a terrible idea - the age difference, her life in L.A., the complicated business situation with the tree farm. She’d remember that she was leaving in January, that none of this mattered.

Denise reached her bedroom door, her hand resting on the cool metal of the doorknob, fingers tightening around it.

Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow she’d forget about that fluttery feeling in her chest whenever Alyssa smiled at her, that dangerous warmth that spread through her body when their eyes met across a room. She’d push it all away, file it in that carefully locked box where she kept all her other inconvenient emotions, because she wasn’t making the same mistake twice.