Chapter 21

I missed Ben before I even left Belleville limits. Felt like there was an empty hole beside me as I sat silent in the passenger seat of Miles’s truck, my suitcase gathering snowflakes in the truck bed. I hadn’t wanted to be without the things Ben had bought me, and therefore my backpack hadn’t cut it this time around. Miles, because he was an angel, was quiet as we drove through the dark, snow crunching beneath our tires.

I would’ve been excited about the snow, except I knew I wouldn’t get to benefit from it.

“I’m going to miss the sledding,” I sighed, leaning my head against the chilly glass as the flakes came down harder, and farmland and trees blurred by.

“Miss the sledding?” Bubba echoed from the back seat. He’d gotten a bouquet of his own—and was rather proud of himself, sniffing at the flowers where he sat beside Jeremy. I swear to god, I hadn’t seen Bubba without Jeremy attached to him the entire time I’d been visiting.

They looked especially cute today. Jeremy was dressed like a polar bear in all white with his nose painted. Bubba was an elf just like the twins had been, though he wore green and not red. Both of them had winter gear over their outfits, thank god.

“You know, the sledding, ” I reminded him, surprised he’d forgotten. “The sledding all the Montgomery’s do? Every time it snows?”

Bubba made a confused sound, and Miles snorted—amused.

“ Darlin ’,” he said softly, his big hands at ten and two on the steering wheel. “Ben’s a lying liar that lies. That ain’t a thing.”

“What?” I blinked, confused.

“He only said it was because he wanted to take you sledding,” Miles snorted. “Called his mom in a panic, got her to help orchestrate the whole event.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And ruin the gesture?” Miles slanted me a look. “I ain’t a snitch.”

I felt blindsided by this.

“Why would he?—”

“Because he loves you,” Bubba hummed from the back seat. “Obviously.”

“Oh.” My heart thumped unsteadily. I stared out at the snow for another beat, trying to process this. “He…”

“Ben’s been head over heels for you since day one,” Miles added, sounding very pleased. “Everyone knows it. You’d have to be blind not to see it. Could barely keep his eyes off you the entire welcome party. He’s obvious as hell.” He snorted out a laugh. “He smiles…so much when you are around. It’s like he’s a totally different person.”

Suddenly all of Miles’s meddling made even more sense.

“Roben,” Bubba chimed in, self-importantly. “That’s your ship name.”

“You gave us a ship name?” I twisted around to squint at him before returning my attention to the road and Miles’s sly grin. In the past, I’d read fanfiction about me and my ex-band-mates, so I was familiar with the terminology. That had been a freaky but enlightening experience—and also super fucking hot, if I’m being honest.

I’m pretty sure I’d read at least sixty different iterations of my old drummer fucking me in about a hundred different positions.

I definitely hadn’t looked at him like that when we’d been working together—and when I’d found the fanfiction I’d felt that loss keenly. But that was years ago, and I had Ben now—so my thoughts of fanfiction remained chaste. Mostly.

Except for now that Ben and I had been spotted together it made me wonder if fanfiction for us would start to pop up? That was a fun thought.

“ Actually, Matilda’s the one that gave you a ship name,” Bubba replied, sounding miffed that she’d beaten him to it. “And Grandma B heard and shared it with me.” Grandma B was Beatrice Montgomery. It’d taken me a second to get that, but after spending several weeks bonding with Bubba I was used to his fun little nicknames for everyone. Mine was still somehow the worst. Duncle Robin was an atrocity. An adorable atrocity—but an atrocity all the same.

Without missing a beat, Bubba continued, “Oh, and she told Becca. And Uncle Baxter. And Uncle Paxton.”

“And Trent,” Miles piped in helpfully. “Who told me.”

“And Jason,” Jeremy tacked on from where he’d been sitting silent in the back seat in his giant hand-me-down coat.

I didn’t know who “Jason” was, but Miles’s reaction to the name made me think the fact that Jason knew was a pretty monumental thing.

“And if Jason knows—” Miles started.

“The whole town knows,” Bubba and Jeremy finished for him, in unison.

When I twisted to look at the boys in the back seat again, they were grinning like hyenas.

“You’re telling me that an entire town has shipped me and Ben for weeks?” I snorted, surprised. “That feels like a lie.”

“Well, it’s not,” Bubba shrugged. “Also, more like months .”

“They did it to me too,” Miles commiserated. “On a smaller scale, but still.” He grinned, eyes crinkled at the corners. “At least you didn’t have them placing bets about when you’d get together.”

“No shit?” I stared at him, somehow still surprised after hearing this new information just how unhinged this entire town apparently was.

“I won,” Bubba declared like the evil—adorable—shit he was.

“He got a big ole wad of cash,” Miles shook his head affectionately.

“I spent it all,” Bubba declared. “Got a marine biology encyclopedia.”

“And we took him to the aquarium,” Miles laughed, eyes crinkling. “He spent the rest of it buying stuff from the gift shop.”

“They had a sperm whale,” Bubba pointed out—like the fact they had a whale named after cum meant he had to buy it. “I bought two.”

I had no doubt that the second whale had been given to Jeremy.

This whole conversation was weird—but not in a bad way.

It was…enlightening to know that Belleville was invested in Ben and my relationship. Certainly explained all the “congratulations” that had been thrown my way lately. It was different from the attention I got anywhere else. It really felt like people here wanted…the best for us—for me too. And while everyone was certainly nosy , they were all also well-meaning. Like they cared, even though they didn’t have to.

And it wasn’t like when we’d been kids—the fake pleasantries that had been handed out like candy in the little town where we’d grown up in North Carolina. These people were genuine. They said they cared, because they did. They said good morning, because they wanted your day to start off right. They said congratulations because they were glad that you were happy.

They weren’t like our mom.

Not at all.

Still though, even Belleville’s nosiness couldn’t distract me from the fact that Ben, as early as when we’d first hung out, had lied to me. Had pulled together a fucking Ocean’s Thirteen of his own just to take me sledding. I still didn’t get why he hadn’t just told me he wanted to take me.

Except…that I did.

Because me at that time would’ve run so fucking far and fast he never would’ve seen me again. I’d been ready to bolt, even though what I really wanted was to spend as much time with him as possible.

It’s why I’d always found a way to him. Why I’d been full of excuses as I wormed my way into his life, one awkward encounter at a time.

I maybe hadn’t been ready then. To admit that I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything else, in all my life. But I could admit that now, in the privacy of my heart—with the snow and wind blowing chilly—and the people I loved most in the world giggling because they wanted to see me happy.

Finding out about Ben’s secret had to be the sweetest fucking thing I’d ever learned. In my entire life. It made me wonder just how many random little things Ben had done to make me happy. How many hoops he’d jumped through, just to see me smile.

Did he even like going shopping? Or the Christmas Market? Or the movies? He didn’t like crowds, didn’t like places that felt overstimulating. The answer hit me like a slap to the face. It didn’t take a genius to come to the obvious conclusion that Ben had done all those things because he loved me.

No one had ever treated me like that before.

No one.

My heart hurt.

“Hey,” Miles sobered, reaching out to give my shoulder a squeeze. “You okay?”

Normally he double-fisted the wheel like he was trying to strangle it into submission—so the fact he took his hand off the wheel meant a lot.

“I…didn’t know.” My voice broke, and Miles squeezed me tighter. “That he’d done that. The sledding thing.” All the other things too, though I didn’t say that.

The light turned green and off we went. Miles removed his hand, and I missed it the moment it was gone.

Everything felt different now.

Leaving felt different.

I’d said my goodbyes to Ben and the girls—as briefly as I could, because I hated goodbyes. I’d promised I’d come back to visit when my schedule permitted it, and I’d meant it. Ben and I hadn’t broken up. But it felt wrong, leaving—wrong in a way it’d never felt before.

I was running in the wrong direction.

Snowflakes blurred by, and my heart stayed somewhere behind us, in the dark—stuck in the snow.

I was supposed to be spending Christmas with them. I could feel that now. I was supposed to be with them when they opened the presents I’d bought them. We were supposed to be together, like the families I’d seen in Christmas movies growing up.

And yet…here I was—speeding off toward the airport and the chilly, bare apartment that awaited me. To a concert I didn’t want to perform at, for people I didn’t care about, to feed a career that didn’t feed me back—not anymore.

My contract renewal was going to happen after the concert was over. Nancy had already drafted it up. All I needed to do was sign. It would be years of tours. Years of money. Years of traveling the world, of adoring fans, of padded pockets. And it should’ve made me happy—seeing as for the longest time this was all I’d ever wanted.

This had been my dream.

Only…I was realizing that I had a new dream now. I had a new dream and he was tall as a mountain, smelled like sandalwood and blossom, and had frankly magical fucking biceps.

“Miles?” I said softly after a minute of quiet, my thoughts spinning.

“Yeah?” Miles kept his tone light, though I could tell he was doing that on purpose—probably could tell from my silence that I was thinking. We’d been through a lot together, Miles and I—and though I hadn’t been the best about communicating with him in recent years, he still knew me better than just about anybody.

“Do you think I’m stupid for wanting to…” I sucked in a breath. “For wanting to leave everything I’ve built behind—because Ben fucking…orchestrated a sledding expedition?”

Miles was quiet for a minute, a minute that felt like a century.

“You know…Gram told me something last year that really struck a chord with me,” he hummed, voice far away. Bubba and Jeremy were quiet, aside from a few rustles. Miles sucked in a breath, similarly to what I’d just done—my giant, dark-haired mirror. “She said: How long are you gonna tell yourself you’re not worthy of the kinda love you want?”

His words echoed around inside my head, twisting tight around my heart.

“I…” My throat clicked.

“Relevant, yeah?” Miles replied, voice quiet. “You remember Margie?”

“’Course I fucking remember Margie.”

“Sweetest dog in the world,” Miles hummed. His hands flexed on the steering wheel, a far off expression on his face. “I told you over and over I’d never have another dog.” My heart thumped wildly. “Now I have two.”

My eyes burned.

“Things change,” Miles said softly. “And when you love someone…losing them is inevitably gonna hurt.” He shrugged. “But…you can’t live your life with one foot out the door. Take it from me—that’s not fuckin’ livin’.” Miles’s voice was sad. “I wish sometimes that I’d wasted less time worrying.” His eyes were warm as he flashed me a smile. “But then I wouldn’t have met Trent when I did. And he came just when I needed him—but only when I was ready to take that leap.”

The car was quiet, the kiddos in the back probably listening intently.

Miles didn’t often talk this much. It was an honor to witness the kind of man my little brother had become. He was stronger now than ever before, and more sure of himself. I was so damn proud of him.

“You’re allowed to grow, Robin,” Miles added. “To change. And sometimes to grow there’s gotta be hurt along the way.”

It would hurt, losing the career I’d built—even if I didn’t love it anymore. But it would hurt more to leave behind the only happiness and peace I’d found. I loved Ben more than I’d ever loved the lights, and the stage, and the music.

I loved our quiet, peaceful moments.

Loved being a source of strength for the twins.

Loved feeling like I had someone to count on.

Loved being someone Ben could lean on when the weight on his broad shoulders grew heavy.

And I couldn’t do that if I wasn’t here. Couldn’t do that if all I gave them was the occasional holiday and scattered FaceTime calls. Couldn’t be the kind of partner—the kind of man—I had always longed to be. Since the day my dad had shown me a cookie-cutter shape of what I didn’t want to become.

I don’t think I’d taken in a full breath since then. Don’t think I’d ever let myself truly relax, knowing what kinda monsters were out there—parading around as people that said they cared.

But that perception had only hurt me, even after the barbs of what my parents had done had been pulled free. I’d let them injure me, over and over, let the wound fester till it consumed me entirely. Till it tainted all my actions. Till I became scared of everyone, good and bad.

Living a shadow life, with only the empty nights for company.

I never let people close because it was easier to run if I didn’t.

Miles was right. That wasn’t a way to live.

And he may not know the extent of what my dad had done, but his words were still applicable. Maybe one day I’d be ready to share that with him. But today was not that day. My thoughts were too full of Ben and the girls—and the what-ifs the future held.

“Good things can be scary,” Miles added. “And sometimes they can be downright painful .”

“Like growing pains,” I nodded, a hot tear dashing down my cheek.

I felt small, cold, and warm—all at the same time as Miles broke me apart one last time. “And it’s okay for growth to be uncomfortable, hell, take it from someone who knows.” He cracked a smile, and another tear slid down my cheek. “I ain’t good with words, you know that—I ain’t never been good with them,” Miles added, even though he’d literally just been shooting poetry out his ass. “So, instead of answering your question outright, I’m gonna finish lecturing you by asking you one of my own.”

The joke fell flat, but I appreciated it all the same. Miles’s lips were twisted into a gentle little smile that fell as quickly as it had risen.

“Okay,” my voice was raw.

My heart continued to thunder. Snow fell.

The world was quiet, quiet, quiet.

My cheeks were wet.

“You been running all your life, Robin. Aren’t you tired? ”

I was tired.

I was so fucking tired.

Even more so now that I was about to go back to the place I hated most in this world, instead of spending Christmas with the people I loved.

Another lonely Christmas.

Only it was worse this time, because I knew what I was leaving behind.

I nodded and it hurt so fucking bad to admit how weary my soul had become. But Miles said good things sometimes hurt. And those words were a balm on my heart as I sniffled.

“ I’m so tired, ” I admitted, voice rough and wet.

“Then maybe it’s time you let yourself rest.”

Then maybe it’s time you let yourself rest.

Then maybe it’s time you let yourself rest.

Miles’s words spun around inside my head. I pinched my eyes shut, more tears spilling free. His big hand lay on my shoulder again—probably another red light, judging by the color of my closed lids.

“And Belleville’s big enough for the both of us,” I hummed the words he’d spoken to me all those weeks ago.

“Sure is,” Miles agreed.

My heart was thumping as I opened my eyes and peered out at the dark, snowy roads. So different from the world I was used to seeing. An alternate reality that could be mine if I simply chose to keep it.

The snow fell and fell and fell.

My lungs opened up.

I breathed—and as easily as it had filled me, all those years ago, the poison in my lungs melted away. And I knew without a shred of doubt in my mind where I wanted to lay my weary head to rest.

The party was raging. Lights had been strung across the ceiling of my apartment. They dripped, glittering icicles sliding down the walls and making the space feel far more lively than it ever had before. A giant tree just like the one Nancy had showed me on her vision board sat in the corner. Probably twenty feet tall, the thing was coated in white and black bulbs to match the decor.

Everyone was mingling. They’d been mingling for hours, drinking champagne, munching hors d’oeuvres, and gossiping.

It all felt so…pointless.

Schmoozing.

People with enough money they could grind it up and gargle with it and never notice the loss. I missed Belleville fiercely and its madness as I sat on the window ledge near the back wall, watching, waiting for my turn to perform.

A few opening acts had sung already, smaller fish—bands that had just joined. I’d been like that once. Hungry for any opportunity I could get to move forward.

Nancy had been fighting off reporters for me all night. Especially after I’d pulled her aside earlier that afternoon and told her what I wanted to do. She’d been sad, yes, but she’d been happy for me too. And despite the risk to her own career, she’d helped me arrange everything the way it needed to be for me to move forward with my life.

Miles had said it was time to rest.

And it was.

But first…I had to end the cycle I’d begun.

And as soon as the loose ends were tied up—I planned on running toward my future, rather than away from it.

Despite the large size of my apartment, the space managed to feel claustrophobic. I was just glad the stairs were fenced off so I didn’t have to worry about anyone finding their way up to my bed. It wasn’t that kind of party, true, but that didn’t make me any less glad to have my privacy maintained.

“You ready?” Nancy hummed, approaching me, the click of her heels somehow louder than the chatter bouncing off the walls. She paused in front of me, her dark eyes soft. “There’s no going back,” she added, voice quiet enough only I could hear. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

I let my decision spin around inside my head. Let the thoughts settle. Let my future dangle in front of me, brilliant and brighter than the lights that decorated the tree.

If things went right, this would be my last Christmas away from my family.

If things went right, I could have the holidays I’d always dreamed of. I’d have my birthday off, Bubba’s birthday off—Miles’s too. I’d have every Pie Festival, every Valentine’s Day. I’d be there to help pick out Rosie’s cat. I’d be in the front row for all of Jane’s performances. And every night, sleep would come easy, because I’d be settled safe in Ben Montomgery’s arms, in his bed he said was big enough for the both of us.

There’d be no eyes.

No harsh comments.

Only Ben’s biceps, his snort-laugh, and the way he made me feel like I was ten feet tall.

I’d be his songbird, and no one else’s. And maybe one day I’d learn to love music again.

“I’m sure,” I said, the muscle in my jaw jumping as I bobbed my head. “I’ve never been surer-rerer of anything in my life.”

“Good,” Nancy replied, her eyes a little wet. I’d never seen her cry. Not in all the years we’d worked together. She offered me a hand up and I took it, my pulse skittering, my palms sweaty as she gave it a squeeze.

“Nancy?” a quiet, sweet voice echoed from somewhere behind Nancy’s shoulder. An adorable petite woman dressed in a head-to-toe black lacy dress approached. She looked oddly familiar, her dark eyes full of warmth as she smiled at me, blonde head bobbing.

“Hi, baby,” Nancy pressed a kiss to her cheek, before gesturing toward me. “Robin’s about to go on.”

The woman stared at me for a beat, a demure smile gracing her lips. She had the same kinda energy as a doll, almost. But not in a “Chucky” way, more like a goth fairy godmother or some shit. Like she was built from porcelain and good vibes. “Good luck!” She hummed, her eyes dancing like she knew something I didn’t.

“Thanks,” I smiled at her, annoyed I didn’t have time to ask her name—or properly introduce myself to Nancy’s girlfriend. Because holy fuck, apparently Nancy was dating someone now? Who knew!

What a mindfuck.

The crowd parted for me, quieting somewhat as I made my way to the stage. Nerves fluttered around like mad inside my belly. I’d never done something this risky. Never done something this goddamn terrifying in all my life. I was about to throw everything I’d built away.

This was scarier than when I’d moved to L.A. on my own.

And I’d thought that had been bad.

I took a breath, fingers slipping easily along the microphone’s surface. I’d opted not to play my guitar tonight. Normally I would—but I didn’t…want a shield between me and what I was about to do, even though it might make things easier.

I was tired of picking the easy route.

And I…well…

I was ready to start pursuing the things that made me happy.

Ready to grow, even though it might hurt.

I was ready to make that leap.

Because for the first time in my life I trusted that there would be someone there to catch me.

And I knew that at the end of this terrible jump I’d find that Ben’s arms were still wide open. That his chest was warm, and his heart was thumping, and he’d do what he’d done since the day we met—and give me somewhere safe to call home.

Nancy’s phone was pointed toward me—for my personal social media. And the group of reporters that had been added to the guest list—per my request—were equally armed with cameras and phones of their own. Go big or go home, right? Some of them had both, probably live streaming, if I had to hazard a guess.

Which was good.

Really good.

Exactly what I wanted.

Except that it was still fucking scary to be scrutinized like this. Especially considering what I was about to do. What I’d been psyching myself up to do ever since Miles had dropped me off at the airport with a final hug and told me I was required to open my present when I came back home.

You’ve done this a thousand times.

It’s fine.

You’re fine.

Everything is fine ? —

Eyes, eyes, eyes. So many eyes. So many that the room felt small. So fucking small. I couldn’t breathe—I couldn’t—I searched the crowd, looking for something familiar in this space that I’d owned for years, but had never felt like mine.

It was only when I spotted a man with auburn hair that I was able to suck in a real breath.

I knew that my eyes were playing tricks on me.

That there was no way that Ben was here. It was Christmas Eve for god’s sake. Even if he’d scored a plane ticket, it wasn’t like he could just drop everything and fly across the country on a whim.

But for a moment, as I closed my eyes, I let myself believe he had. That he’d flown out right after me. That he’d made his way here, just to be with me on Christmas Eve. That he’d chased me, even though I wasn’t running anymore—at least…not from him. That Ben Montgomery had performed a Christmas miracle.

The crowd went quiet as the first wispy notes of guitar filled the air. I squeezed the mic tight, tapping my fingers against it to count the beat as I waited for my turn to join in. It was my first song—one of my most popular. Sad and angsty as the rest of them.

When I’d written these I’d been in my early twenties and my heart had been a gaping, open wound.

I opened my eyes, searching the crowd for the redheaded man I’d seen earlier. I couldn’t see him though, but that was fine. It let me believe the illusion that Ben was here just a little bit longer.

When the song ended the room erupted into a chorus of applause. I smiled, heart thumping as the next song began, and I melted into my stage persona like I always did. This song was less haunting—a little more revenge-fucky.

And as I bounced around the stage, belting into the mic, I let the reality of the situation finally set in.

If all went well, this would be my last time performing these songs.

I said goodbye with every warbling word. Said my thank-yous as I slid across the stage, Christmas lights flickering high above me. The city lights winked below from the view through the window, the same way they had when Ben had been here—when he’d entered my world without hesitation, despite the implications it brought with it.

By the third song the audience was really feeling it. It was hard to get celebrities to join in. A lot of them liked to “play it cool” but tonight they played along. Bobbing their heads, grinning. A lot of them even mouthed the words along with me as another song began to play and I amped up the performance level even more.

I was sweaty and grinning—the leather I wore clinging to my skin as tightly as the glitter my makeup artist had painted on. Louder I sang, higher I climbed, saying my goodbyes to the stars I couldn’t see, to all the places I’d toured—to the world beyond them.

If this was going to be my final performance, I was going to make it count.

Go out with a goddamn bang.

I finished my set, and by the time I was done the crowd had moved in close. They’d kept their distance at first, but by the time the last twang of the guitar sounded, they were pressed tight to the stage like glittery sardines. Nancy stood at the back of the room—beside the reporters. Her phone was still up, and I could see tears glinting in her dark, expressive eyes.

She knew what this was, even though no one else did.

I blew her a kiss, and she grinned.

Her girlfriend whispered something to her, and she made a frankly disgustingly squishy face down at her, all blatant affection. The crowd murmured in confusion when I didn’t step off the stage even though my set was finished.

And then it happened.

What I’d been plotting and planning.

The last part of my final goodbye.

The crowd quieted again, as my bandmates picked up their instruments one last time. Soft and soothing, the quiet croon of the first whispering notes filled the air.

Familiar notes.

Notes they’d all heard, year after year, when the nights were cold—and people sought home. When the streets were lined with fairy lights. When the world was just a little kinder, just a little more hopeful.

I pressed the microphone to my lips, listening to the loop of notes as I searched the crowd one final time.

This was it.

The moment I couldn’t take back.

It was growth, and it was scary, and it would hurt?—

But…

I was okay with that if it meant I got to keep Ben Montgomery.

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” I sang out, sweetly—the way I’d wanted for years. Into Nancy’s camera I sang, directing the words to the man who waited—probably asleep in bed, biding his time till his alarm went off so he could become Santa for my favorite kids in the world.

Nancy’s free hand covered her mouth, her eyes continuing to glisten.

The crowd was silent, reverent.

My heart was full.

“You can count on me.” The next line was choked and somehow even softer than the first.

I’d told Ben once that I wanted to sing love songs, and that’s what this felt like. It was a promise to him, just like the promises he always gave me. I hoped, even through the video, he’d be able to see in my eyes what this meant to me.

What he meant to me.

No one spoke the entire time, like they understood what this was without me even having to say it.

Peace settled over me as I murmured the last line of the song, my heart full and warm. “I’ll be home for Christmas.” I searched the crowd, briefly—when my eyes caught on the redheaded man I’d seen earlier. When I saw his face, I was so startled I nearly missed the last and most important line of the song.

He was a few rows closer than before.

The gray at his temples caught the light.

His eyes were honey.

They said, I missed you.

They said, I’m here.

They said, you’ll never spend another Christmas alone.

“If only—” at the last moment, I switched the words, my heart cracking right down the middle as Ben Montgomery smiled at me from the center of the crowd. “In our dreams.”

The song ended, and with it, so did my career.

Silence echoed through the room as the notes petered out.

“Thank you so much for coming tonight to my last performance,” I hummed as the crowd remained quiet, and my eyes were all Ben’s. “It means the world to me.”

Ben’s smile grew broader. He had a twin in each arm, despite the late hour. I had no idea how the hell he’d managed this. It felt like magic. The miracle I’d hoped for.

“I want to dedicate that last song to the man who owns my whole-ass heart,” I continued—heart fluttering like wild as the speech I’d prepared flew right out the window. I sniffed, throat tight. “I’m so grateful to be here. I’m so grateful to have been able to dedicate my life to music, which has always been my passion.”

Murmurs filled the air, the quiet shattered as the crowd stared at me almost like they were one entity, not a billion different people.

“It has been my blessing and honor to get to do this for as long as I have,” I hummed, eyes still all Ben’s. “To get to meet you. To perform for you. To get to share with you my heart.”

His eyebrows pinched together, like he was confused.

“ This was my dream,” I said softly, ignoring the murmurs, and staring Ben down. “But I have a new dream now. And while I’ll miss all of you—so much,” that was directed to my fans, the people who had built me from the ground up—people who truly felt like my friends, my family. “I want to give him my heart now. So I’m going to be taking some time to rest.”

The peace broke, shattered by my words.

After I dropped that particular bomb, Nancy did what she did best.

She worked the crowd, climbing onto the stage and directing the attention away from me. She’d put her phone away, and the livestream to my social media was over. I couldn’t catch a single word she said.

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t look away from Ben.

I was worried if I did I’d discover that I’d imagined he was here.

“Let’s give a round of applause for Trashmouth!” Nancy clapped, urging the crowd to do the same, though they all looked shocked. Applause was slow but erupted quickly, a domino effect. There were a few whistles, and I did my best not to worry about my label or the fact that I knew my rep was somewhere in the crowd.

Nancy would handle it.

She always did.

She gripped my shoulder, leaning in close as the applause grew louder. “I’m so proud of you.” Ben’s smile never wavered. Not once.

Nancy’s words wrapped warm around my heart as she released me, and I made my way to the edge of the stage.

“Robin?” a tiny voice sounded. I blinked, shocked when I glanced down and saw Rosie’s sweet little head peeking up at me from the bottom of the stage. The strange blonde woman from before—Nancy’s girlfriend—was with her. Her fingers gently stroked Rosie’s hair with affection, as my sweet lil goth angel peered up at me.

It took me a solid thirty seconds to realize why the fuck Nancy’s girlfriend looked so familiar. And why the hell she was with Rosie.

This was Trixie.

Holy shit.

What a small fucking world.

Before I could properly freak out, Rosie was talking again. “You didn’t tell me,” she complained, frowning at me like the fact I had been secretly famous and the singer of her favorite band was an epic betrayal.

“I’m sorry, sweet pea.” I sank to my knees, and Trixie laughed, helping lift Rosie up onto the stage so we could talk better. For a second, I was concerned about the vultures in the crowd—about the cameras—but Trixie didn’t seem worried, so I didn’t either. “I didn’t know how.”

Because she was the sweetest, best kid in the whole wide world, it only took her a second to forgive me. “I liked your song,” she said as I opened up my arms and curled them tight around her. “But your hair looks bad.”

I snorted out a laugh, breathing in her sweet-baby scent, my eyes pinched shut tight.

“Did you wear heels because you’re worried people will think you’re short?” Rosie continued to roast me as I squeezed her close.

“Yes,” I agreed, because I had.

“Oh.” She obviously hadn’t expected me to admit that.

“Thank you for coming,” I hummed, pressing a kiss to her head, my eyes burning.

“You came to my play,” she countered, twisting back to stare up at me. “I wanted to come to yours.”

Right. Because that’s what this was to her. A play. I cracked a grin, unable to help myself.

“You sounded beautiful, sweetheart,” Ben’s voice was a welcome, quiet rumble. I heard him over the crowd, my heart thudding unsteadily as I twisted to find his voice. “I’m so proud of you.”

Jane was sitting on his shoulders, staring at me awestruck, her little eyes wide. She was wearing the same delightful black ensemble that Rosie was. I squeezed her twin tighter, flashing her a smile of her own, before turning my attention to Ben.

“I…” I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do—now that he was here—now that he’d made my life into a Hallmark movie. “I was coming home for good,” I blurted, voice cracking right down the middle.

“I know,” Ben said, voice just as hoarse.

Like he had known.

Even though I hadn’t.

My heart fluttered.

“I love you,” I said, because it was true—and because he deserved to hear it first, after being so patient, for so long.

“I know,” Ben replied, making me laugh hard enough Rosie made a grumpy sound and decided that being snuggled by me was no longer comfortable. She pulled out of my arms and I let her go, watching in amusement as she flopped onto her butt, her little black Mary Janes thudding against the lip of the stage as she turned her attention back to the woman I was certain now was her mother.

I stood up after I double-checked that Trixie had Rosie handled. This was the first and only time I’d ever been taller than Ben Montgomery. Grinning down at him, I couldn’t help it as a few hot tears slipped down my cheeks.

I’d been crying a lot lately.

But that was okay.

I figured after living my life as repressed as I had, it was okay to let loose every once in a while.

“I love you too,” Ben hummed, making sure I was listening. “I have?—”

“Since the day we met, pretty much,” I finished for him, leaning down, our breath mingling as Jane eyed us eagerly and Rosie’s face pinched. “I know.”

Ben grinned, wide and unrepentant. I wanted to taste it, so I did.

He tasted like home. Like new dreams. Like peppermint gum.

Like Christmases, the way they should be. Like trust, warmth, and solid foundations.

His lips were soft, just like I’d remembered. He kept his tongue to himself for the most part, which was a shame—but something I totally understood. We were in front of the girls, after all, and the fact that he was a dad at all times was something I loved about him.

When we parted, I felt better than I had in years.

“Give me Jane,” Trixie demanded—surprisingly sassy for a woman with the energy of a willow tree.

Ben laughed, but didn’t argue, passing their daughter down so she was sitting next to Rosie on the lip of the stage. Trixie smiled at the both of them, flashing me a wink, before distracting them to give us some semblance of privacy. The crowd had left us alone, probably because Nancy had redirected their attention—she was a badass like that.

Ben held his arms out, and I toed the edge of the stage, leaning down to curl my arms around his neck.

“C’mon,” he urged.

“Your back—” I protested.

“Is fine,” Ben finished for me. “Just…move slowly.”

“Okaaay.” With a hum, I very, very carefully let him take my weight, settling into his waiting grip, and laughing as my belly swooshed and Ben squeezed me in close. Dangling in the air I could feel the rapid thump of his heart as his familiar scent filled my lungs.

He pressed a kiss to my ear, and then my cheek, and then my forehead. His stubble tickled. My skin buzzed—and for the first time in a long time, it felt like there wasn’t a noose hanging over my neck.

I was free.

“I quit,” I told him, even though he already knew that.

“I’m proud of you,” Ben hummed. Somehow coming from him it felt different than when Nancy said it. I’d loved it then too—I didn’t think I’d ever tire of hearing those words, I’d received them so sparingly in the past. But still.

When Ben said “I’m proud of you” it was because he understood what I’d done.

Not only that I’d picked him—but that I’d picked myself.

He knew better than anyone what I’d been struggling with.

He was the keeper of my heart, after all.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” I told him, the emotions bubbling up as my arms tightened around him. “On Christmas Eve too—” My throat was hoarse, and my eyes burned, a great hiccuping sob escaping. “What about Santa?” My voice cracked right down the middle. “What about the presents under the tree—and the cocoa you have in the cupboard? And all the plans we made? And the—and the?—”

“It’s not Christmas without you, baby,” Ben’s lips were against my ear, his breath warm as he made a soft shushing sound as I blubbered. “I was never going to let you spend another Christmas alone. The girls and I decided we needed to come take you home. Besides…” I pulled back a little, grinning when Ben winked. “When I called Santa he said he didn’t mind postponing the holiday one more day so you could be there.”

I couldn’t stop crying. Once the waterworks had begun I was fucking done-zo, motherfucker. My makeup ran, but I couldn’t be assed to care. Not when Ben was here. And the girls were here. And even though I was embarrassing myself in front of Trixie—ohmygod—I was so happy .

So fucking happy .

The rest of the night was a blur of well wishes. Nancy tried to help me with my makeup at one point—and I only let her because I didn’t want to look like a hot mess parading Ben around the rest of the night.

The girls spent a long time at the window with their mom, staring out at the city below, their chubby little hands leaving prints. Ben and I mobbed the refreshment table, feeding each other tiny little bite-sized potatoes and cuts of steak. And by the time the last of the guests left, the girls, Ben, and I were ready to fucking go to bed.

I spared one last thank you to Nancy—silently of course—when we entered my room and I realized that the sheets and blankets had all been washed, the bed remade. The girls eyed it with wide grins, all its pillows piled high—and launched themselves at it like the wild hyenas they were.

We bundled up, the four of us, squashed together in my bed as the massive Christmas tree below the loft winked at us.

The girls were asleep the second their heads hit the pillows, but Ben and I stayed awake for a few more precious minutes. Smoothing my hand over Jane’s hair and her crooked pigtails, I leveled Ben with a look I hoped conveyed all my excitement—all my gratitude—all at once.

“I love you,” I told him quietly, because it was true. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Ben’s palm was warm and scratchy as he stroked over my cheek.

“I never want to be away from you again.”

“Me neither.”

“Is that…is that okay?” My heart wobbled, my eyes wet—again—despite the fact I’d spent the last two days crying, it felt like. “Because I literally mean never. Like. People can pry you from my cold dead body.”

“Jesus Christ ,” Ben laughed, my favorite sound in the whole wide world.

“Was it worth it?” I asked, because I needed to know. “Was waiting…for me worth it?”

He’d been patient. So fucking patient.

And I just…

“Does Mads Mikkelsen deserve another Oscar?” Ben countered, voice lilting with warmth. I sobbed out a laugh, smooching him hard enough our teeth clicked. He softened the kiss, urging me to slow down, his fingers bleeding heat against my skin. “Of course it was worth it,” he finally murmured. “I was waiting for you .”

I felt like I was dying. Like my skin was on fire, and my heart was full-full-full. Breathless out of happiness. Excitement burning hot in my chest. Anxious for the future rather than because of the past.

“I have one more question,” I hummed, our lips brushing, my heart in my throat.

“Hmm?” Ben waited, sleepy-sweet.

“Did I scare you, Ben?” My heart stuttered. “When I left?”

Ben laughed, a quiet, sweet little sound. He pressed another kiss to my lips, and instead of answering my question, gave me the last piece of the puzzle I needed before I could rest. “Beckett gets to go home,” Ben replied, voice husky and gentle. “And he’s sickeningly, deliriously happy.”

“He is?”

“He is,” Ben hummed, kissing me again, and then again—just because he wanted to. “He gets married.” My eyes burned.

“He does?”

“He gets to be with his brothers.”

“Y-yeah?”

“He heals,” Ben’s voice was a quiet, soothing rumble.

“He gets his happy ending,” I echoed, kissing him back as my heart stuttered, one last, lovely time.

“He does,” Ben agreed—a promise.

I’d made a lot of bad choices in my life.

Choices that hurt.

Choices that changed who I was—and not for the better.

I’d had fears and doubts. Poison that bled black in my veins.

But there was none of that now as Ben Montgomery gave me the happy ending I’d always wanted, but never thought I deserved. Because just like Beckett, I was going home. I was going to have the Christmas I’d always dreamed of with the family I adored, and the people who loved me just as fiercely as I loved them.

And while I knew that life would always have its obstacles, and that falling in love wasn’t a cure-all for the past I was still healing from, I was no longer scared to move forward. My feet didn’t itch.

Not anymore.

And I wasn’t poison.

In fact…I’d never been poison at all.