CHAPTER SIX

Abby

In the dining room, the table is full of six place settings and delicious-smelling food. Crystal glasses reflect the flames of red tapers nestled among pine boughs and gilded pinecones. I must admit everything looks magazine-spread lovely, upscale from our Christmas tree.

I sit next to John, ignoring how Rachel holds court at the head of the table, which used to be Dad’s spot. Mom fusses with her bread plate before settling into her chair.

Dad raises his glass. “A toast to family, both old and new.” He nods at John, who raises his own glass in acknowledgment. “And to love, in all its forms.”

We clink glasses, the crystal chiming. As I sip wine, Rachel eyes John speculatively.

Oh no. Here it comes .

“So, John.” Once again, her voice drips with faux sweetness. “Tell us more about you and our little Abby getting together. It must be quite the story, considering how…unexpected it is.”

I tense, but John doesn’t miss a beat. He places his arm over the back of my chair. “I wish I could say we had a fairytale beginning, but I was a bit of an ogre at first.”

“You, dear?” Mom looks shocked. “You seem so charming.”

John grins sheepishly. “I have a reputation at work for being…demanding. I push Abby hard, always expecting the best from her.”

“That sounds more like the Abby we know.” Rachel smirks. “Always needing a push to succeed.”

My cheeks heat, but John rubs soothing circles on my shoulder that calm me.

“Oh, no.” His voice is light but with an undercurrent of steel. “Abby never needs pushing to succeed. She’s always been exceptional. I just didn’t want anyone accusing me of favoritism when I inevitably fell for her.”

The table falls silent, and I fight to keep my jaw from dropping. John’s words, delivered so casually, have effectively shut Rachel up and left the rest of the family looking impressed.

Dad smiles. “That’s certainly romantic. In a corporate sort of way.”

We all laugh, the tension dissipating. As the first course is served—butternut squash soup—work stories are shared, carefully edited to avoid any hint of our deception, and I lose myself in the role of adoring girlfriend.

“So, Abby.” Rachel leans forward. “How’s that little project of yours going? The one you were so excited about the last time we saw you? That was in May, right?”

My spoon falls out of my hand and clatters against the bowl. “It’s, uh—”

“Oh, was that the Thompson account?” John interjects smoothly. “From what I heard from Abby’s former boss, she knocked that out of the park. The client was so impressed they referred several of their friends to her.”

Rachel’s smile tightens. “How…nice.”

John touches my knee under the table. I take a deep breath, forcing my shoulders to relax.

“What about you, Rachel?” Mom asks, always eager to keep the peace and add another jewel to her eldest’s crown. “Any exciting developments at work?”

As Rachel launches into an even more detailed account of her latest promotion, John watches me closely.

Just breathe , he mouths.

I nod, grateful for his support. I’m not sure how I would have managed tonight without him, and that makes this evening even stranger. I mean, just this morning I was thinking how much he hated me.

“I remember a time Abby stayed up all night when there was a coding error. It wasn’t even her responsibility, but she worked via Zoom with our programmers,” John says, skillfully redirecting the conversation. “She saved several financial planners from losing clients. I’ve never seen someone so dedicated.”

Rachel’s gaze narrows. “Isn’t that sweet? I’m sure Abby’s thrilled to have such a…supportive boss.”

The word boss hangs in the air, loaded with implication. Once again, heat rushes up my neck, and before I can respond, John’s hand covers mine on the table.

“I’m the lucky one.” His gaze never leaves my face. “Abby makes me a better man every day.”

Whoa . My fake boyfriend is a far cry from the hard-driving boss I thought I knew, and I prefer this version of him, probably more than I should.

After passing around the food and loading our plates—the turkey golden and fragrant, surrounded by all the classic fixings—Jake clears his throat.

I brace myself for whatever’s coming next.

“How’s Powerfluff adjusting to you and John?” he asks. “That cat never liked me.”

I need to let Powerfluff pick my boyfriends in the future. “She’s doing well. Hiding upstairs while she adjusts to being here.”

Mom shakes her head. “You take such good care of that cat.”

“She’ll be a great mother someday,” John agrees.

I stare at him, shocked. “Th-thanks.”

“Well, well, well.” Rachel’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Looks like little sis is finally living up to her potential. It only took, what, twenty-eight years?”

“Rachel,” Mom scolds half-heartedly, but the damage is done.

I shrink in my seat. All the confidence John built up evaporates in an instant. Not unusual, but I hate when Rachel does this, and I can’t stop myself from reacting.

“Abby’s been exceeding expectations since day one, according to her former boss. All her skills will help her when it’s time for her to take on more responsibilities, both professionally and personally. I wish I had her people skills, and I’m hoping I can learn more from her.” John’s voice cuts through the awkward silence.

I stare at my plate, torn between gratitude for John’s defense and mortification at being the center of attention again. Maybe I should take Powerfluff’s lead and spend the first night in my room, adjusting to being home again.

“Well, that’s lovely,” Mom says, clearly trying to smooth things the way she always does. “But let’s not forget about Rachel’s big promotion.”

And once again, Rachel’s telling us more about her latest job triumph. Even though she’s talking, I tune her story out and focus on my dinner. The turkey could’ve used more basting, but everything else turned out well.

When I glance at John, he offers a sympathetic smile. It’s oddly comforting, this silent support from a man who I thought barely tolerated me twelve hours ago.

As Rachel’s monologue winds down, Jake jumps in with his own work stories and I relax slightly. At least when Jake is talking, Rachel doesn’t make backhanded comments about my life choices.

We finish the main course with a mix of strained smiles and awkward silences, but lucky us, we still have dessert to get through. At least no blood has been shed yet, even though a few of the words had been as jagged as broken glass.

“This turkey is delicious,” Dad says, breaking the tension that was building in the silence. “You’ve outdone yourself this year with dinner.”

“Mom’s the expert turkey maker,” I say.

Mom shrugs. “I can’t take all the credit. Abby and John were a big help putting everything together for me.”

John winks at me. “Mashed potatoes are the true test of a cook.”

Rachel dabs at her mouth with a napkin. “Oh? You cook, John?”

“I’m full of surprises.” John’s tone is light, but his eyes are full of challenge. “Just like Abby.”

Rachel’s fork pauses halfway to her mouth. Jake, oblivious to the undercurrent, reaches for another helping of potatoes.

“These are amazing, man,” he says around a mouthful. “What’s your secret?”

John grins. “If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you. And that would put quite a damper on Christmas dinner.”

A surprised laugh escapes me, and I quickly cover it with a cough.

Mom looks between us. “It’s so nice to have everyone together. Isn’t it, dear?”

Dad nods, his gaze darting between Rachel and me. “It certainly is. We haven’t seen Abby since May. Though I have to say, it’s quieter than usual. Everything okay with you girls?”

“Everything’s perfect, Daddy,” Rachel says.

“Just tired from working and the drive, Dad,” I say at the same time.

“If you say so.”

We both nod.

As everyone places their forks on the empty plates, I’m surprised how John seamlessly fits into the family dynamic. He deflects Rachel’s subtle jabs with humor and charm, which I appreciate so much. It’s almost enough to make me forget this is all an act. Emphasis on almost.

All I have to do is survive dessert. Mom asks John and me to help her.

As I follow John to the dining room, both our arms laden with pies—apple, pumpkin, and pecan, because heaven forbid we don’t have options—I hear Rachel talking about me again.

“It doesn’t make any sense.” My sister doesn’t even try to keep her voice down. “How did Abby land someone like John? I mean, he’s successful and charming. What does he see in her?”

I freeze, the pies as heavy as lead weights in my arms. John’s back is to me, but I see his shoulders stiffen.

“Rachel.” Jake sounds uncomfortable. “Come on. That’s not fair.”

“What?” Rachel says with wide-eyed innocence. “I’m only concerned for my little sister. Their relationship seems sudden, don’t you think? Almost like it’s not quite real.”

The room goes deathly quiet. My family and Jake look at John and me. I want to run away and not deal with it, but the part of me that’s tired of Rachel’s put-downs decides to face this head-on.

I march into the room, setting the pies down. “You know what, Rachel? My relationship with John is sudden. And it might not make sense to you. But it doesn’t have to.”

Rachel’s mouth falls open in shock, but I’m not finished.

“John sees me,” I continue, gaining momentum with each word. “He accepts me for who I am and doesn’t try to turn me into someone else. What’s between us is real. We’re real.”

I tremble, but I feel lighter than I have in forever. It feels good.

As Dad motions for Jake and Rachel to calm down, Mom brings out a chocolate cake, which is Rachel’s favorite. I guess pies aren’t enough, either.

She places the cake on the table and sits. “I made something for everyone.”

Jake adjusts his tie, which means he must be nervous about something. “I have something to say first.”

He stands and takes Rachel’s hand.

No, no, no .

Stop. He wouldn’t do that.

“Rachel.” Emotion fills his voice, and he clears his throat. “You are the most incredible woman. You make me want to be a better man every day.”

Uh, isn’t that what John said about me? Not surprised Jake would steal that line because the guy is nothing but a walking red flag. Rachel can have him.

Jake drops to one knee and the room starts to spin.

Yes, he would do that.

My hands ball.

This can’t be happening.

Not here.

Not now.

“Rachel Elizabeth Sinclair, will you do the honor of being my wife?” Jake shows her a black velvet ring box. “Will you marry me?”

Rachel squeals and throws her arms around Jake. “Oh, my goodness, yes.”

The room erupts in cheers. Mom rushes off to fetch champagne while Dad claps Jake on the back. I sit frozen as Rachel prances around the table, showing off her new ring under everyone’s nose.

“Talk about gorgeous.” She shoves her hand in front of my face. “Doesn’t Jake have such exquisite taste?”

I manage a weak nod, unable to form words. The diamond, practically the size of an iceberg, seems to mock me, a glittering reminder of everything I’ve lost.

“Oh, Abby.” Rachel’s voice drips with faux sympathy. “I hope this doesn’t make you sad since you and Jake had a small, little thing once upon a time.”

I dated him for two years, much longer than the two of them have been together. I will my voice not to crack. “Congrats.”

That’ll have to do because I can’t say anything else unless they want to hear me say cheaters .

Mom returns with the champagne and pops the cork. I nearly fly out of my seat from the sound. She fills the glasses and passes them out. “A toast. To Rachel and Jake, may your marriage be as perfect as you both are.”

As I raise my glass, a tear slips from my eye. I don’t want to cry, but I can’t help myself. I blink, hoping to keep from breaking down. I’m over Jake, but the whole situation feels like another slap to my face. I’m tired of it. Oh so tired.

John leans in close. “You okay?”

I shake my head.

“Want to get some air?” he asks, and I nod.

As we slip away from the table, Rachel’s voice chases after us. “Oh, Jakey, we simply must have a spring wedding.”

Standing in the hallway, I lean against the wall and exhale before I hyperventilate. John pulls me close.

“I’m sorry.” He brushes his mouth over my hair. “Having to see that must’ve been brutal.”

“You know what the worst part is? I’m not even upset about Jake. I’m upset because, once again, Rachel gets to have everything.”

The perfect proposal surrounded by her adoring family. The perfect ring, symbolic of the financial success she and Jake have both achieved. The perfect life. I want all of those things, too, especially a relationship where I feel seen and special in a way I’ve never had around my family.

John pulls back slightly, cupping my face with his hand. “Rachel might have the spotlight, but you shine brighter than she ever could.”

His thoughtful words break something loose inside me. The years of pent-up emotions over not being enough for my parents finally spill over and my tears flow. John holds me, rubbing soothing circles on my back as I sob into his shirt.

As I calm down, I pull back, wiping my eyes. “Oh no. I’ve ruined your shirt.”

John grins, his eyes twinkling. “Please. If anything, my shirt has been elevated by your tears. It’s now a designer piece: Eau de Abby, très chic.”

I laugh, and the weight on my chest eases. John tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

It’s all I can do not to throw myself into his arms. I don’t want to go back into the dining room. I’m not sure I can without losing it again. “I wish we could get out of here.”

“Me too, but the blizzard.” Then John’s face lights up. “We could make a daring escape to your room.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You think?”

He nods. “We can pretend we’re alone and anywhere but here.”

I’m tempted to laugh, but I realize how appealing that sounds. “Can we stay up there? I can’t face another minute of the happy couple.”

John’s expression softens. “Whatever you want. Go up now. I’ll tell your parents you have a headache.”

Warmth settles in the center of my chest. Somehow, this guy has become my rock tonight. “Thank you. For…everything.”

He winks. “Anytime.”

Funny, but John sounds sincere. Being snowed in isn’t so bad with the right person by your side. Whoever thought my right person would be my boss?