15. AVA

15

AVA

Avoiding Tate for a long stretch was always going to be unavoidable as long as I was in Landing. Keeping my distance from him for an extended period would have been an impossibility, particularly if I intended to maintain the other relationships I had in my life.

Whether I liked it or not, ignoring what happened between us the night of the wedding, Tate and I were connected in another way—through the people we both loved. Deep down, my heart still had plenty of love for him, too. But that love had led to me making decisions that nearly destroyed my whole life.

That's why I'd been glad to learn I'd grown some defenses against him. Granted, it wasn't much, but at this point, it was all I had. Avoidance seemed like the best tactic to maintain that wall between us.

Because I knew what my weaknesses were when it came to him. One long look into those bright blue eyes as he said all the right things would have me crumbling.

So, it was nice to know I had the capability to do what needed to be done when he'd approached me at The Mixing Bowl three days ago. My mind was still reeling from that encounter.

I needed to keep things short with him. I couldn't invite conversation or allow him to think he could gloss over what happened between us the night of his birthday or his inaction in the week that followed.

But it hadn't been easy.

I'd been in love with him for so long—I'd missed him so much—and to not look at him when he was standing that close had to be one of the most difficult things I'd ever done. My mind recognized that my reaction to him was necessary for self-preservation, but my heart… well, my heart ached for him. For us. For the night we'd had together and the relationship we'd lost.

In a perfect world, I would have appreciated having more than just three days since our last encounter to know I'd have to face Tate again. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option.

It was Christmas Eve, and just like every other special occasion, the Westwoods were celebrating.

Sure, I could have elected to sit things out, but I didn't want to punish everyone else in the family simply because Tate and I weren't in a great place.

It would have broken Evelyn Westwood's heart, especially when she lived for the way the family celebrated Christmas Eve. Years ago, I'd learned of the tradition Malcolm and Evelyn had started the year they met.

Secret Santa.

Every year since, they'd made Christmas Eve the day they did a Secret Santa gift exchange. Initially, it had just been the two of them, so there wasn't much about it that remained a secret. But apparently, the fun came in when Evelyn always stuck to the budget they collectively set beforehand, and Malcolm always broke it.

Once they had children, the kids were pulled into the mix. And now, it had become a long-standing Westwood family tradition.

I loved that they insisted on including me in it, and I'd never want to miss it for anything.

But the other reason I couldn't justify skipping the festivities was because my avoidance of Tate for the time being was just that—temporary. It wasn't a long-term play. I could never expect to maintain healthy relationships with the Westwood family without eventually getting to a better place with Tate. I simply wanted a bit more time to move on from him before I put myself in a position to be pulled right back into the same never-ending circle of longing, devotion, and despair.

So, it was my hope that I could attend the festivities tonight and tomorrow, bank on the fact that there'd be plenty of people around, and my chances of being left alone with Tate would be near impossible.

It was on that thought when I pulled into the driveway at the Westwood estate. I was relieved to see Cooper and Skye just getting out of their vehicle, Wyatt and Rhea already walking in through the front door, and Liam pulling in behind me. The vehicles that were already parked in the driveway with their owners not around them belonged to Tate, Ivy, and Jules.

Cooper and Skye waved at me as I came to a stop, and when I got out of my car, somehow, Liam was already making his way toward me.

"Merry Christmas, Liam," I said, offering a hug.

He hugged me back. "Merry Christmas, Ava. How are you doing?"

I shrugged. "I'm okay. And you?"

"The same. Do you need help carrying anything?"

"Well, I could try to juggle this all on my own, but I'd risk something breaking. If you don't mind, would you take my Secret Santa gift?"

"Sure. You didn't get me this year, did you? Am I carrying my own gift?"

I shook my head, a smile playing at my lips. "No. Skye was my pick." I glanced down at the gift already in his hand. "Is that for me?"

He let out a laugh. "Cooper."

Grinning, I handed him the gift for Skye and recalled the relief I felt when Evelyn approached me two days after I'd gotten home and held a mason jar filled with folded pieces of paper out to me.

"What's this?" I asked her.

"Names for this year's Secret Santa."

"You mean, you didn't already do this at Thanksgiving, like usual?"

Evelyn shook her head, but she was ecstatic. "I decided to wait a little later to distribute names. Something kept telling me to hold off on it, just in case. I think it's because I was desperately hoping you'd come back to celebrate with us."

Tate wasn't the only one I'd fallen in love with in this family. What I'd felt for him went much deeper and was different than what I felt for the rest of them, but I still adored each member of this family, and I was glad to be here this year to enjoy this tradition with them.

Once I'd gotten the vase of flowers and store-bought mini cheesecakes out of my car, Liam and I made our way to the front door, where he allowed me to step inside ahead of him.

"Will you put that gift under the tree for me?" I asked Liam. "I'm going to take these cheesecakes and flowers out to the kitchen."

"No problem. I've got it."

Malcolm and Evelyn had more than one tree in their house, but only one was the gift-giving tree. Liam took off in that direction while I cautiously made my way toward the kitchen.

Moments later, I entered the kitchen, and the quivering, twitchy feeling in my belly was magnified. Because in addition to Evelyn, Rhea, Skye, Cooper, and Ivy, Tate was also there. They were gathered around the island, talking and laughing with one another.

Before anyone else noticed I was there, Tate's eyes landed on me. It had been almost immediate. I held his stare for no more than two or three seconds before looking away and stepping deeper into the kitchen, my feet carrying me toward the opposite side of where Tate was.

That's when Rhea spotted me. "Hey, Ava. Merry Christmas."

"Thanks, Rhea. Merry Christmas to you as well."

I received a round of similar sentiments from just about everyone else in the room, tossing out replies as haphazardly as they came in while making my way toward Evelyn.

"Oh, these flowers are gorgeous."

"Do you like them? I wish I could say I have a knack for putting together bouquets like this, but I don't. I did add the ribbon to make them a bit more festive, though."

Evelyn took the flowers and insisted, "They're stunning. Thank you for bringing them."

"You can have the flowers," Ivy declared. "I'll take the cheesecakes and get them put out on a serving dish."

I'd purposely chosen the cheesecakes because I knew how much my best friend loved them. Even though I'd gotten her a real gift that I'd give to her tomorrow, since I hadn't selected her for the Secret Santa exchange, I wanted to find a way to give her something special today. I figured the cheesecakes would do it.

"Do not overindulge on cheesecakes before we have dinner," Evelyn warned her.

Ivy took the desserts from me and rolled her eyes. "I won't, Mom."

Liam, Malcolm, Jules, and Wyatt all entered the kitchen next, and after Liam received a round of greetings from those who had been in the kitchen, Malcolm announced, "Okay, it looks like everyone's here, so dinner first, then gifts followed by dessert."

"Uh, Dad. Not everyone is here yet," Jules pointed out.

"What?"

"Marco. Aren't we waiting for him?"

A somber look washed over him. It was enough to have me bracing myself for bad news. Marco was Cooper's best friend, much like I was Ivy's. I'd always felt a level of solidarity with him, considering we'd been welcomed into this family as outsiders and never been made to feel like we were any different than the rest of them.

Had something happened to him?

"Marco's not coming today."

Jules asked the question that immediately sprang into my mind. "Why not?"

Cooper stood from the stool at the island, turned to face his sister, and explained, "He's sticking close to his family for the next couple of days."

That was the one thing that was different between Marco and me. While we both felt like honorary members of the Westwood family, Marco and I came from very different upbringings. Where I was an only child with parents who did just enough to keep me alive, Marco came from a loud, loving family with multiple siblings and parents who adored him, his siblings, and each other. And every time I was around Marco, it was clear to me he not only appreciated having everyone in his life that he did, but he also recognized just how lucky he was to have so many good people in his life.

"Did something happen?" Jules pressed.

"Multiple things, actually. His sister was leaving the mall two days ago after doing some last-minute Christmas shopping when she was approached by two men who stole her keys, her car, and all the gifts she'd purchased. She was shaken up pretty bad, but he got even worse news yesterday morning when he learned that his great uncle had been in an accident while traveling to Landing to be with the family for the holiday. He died at the scene, so the family's just not up for celebrating right now. Skye and I went over to visit with him yesterday. The whole family is pretty torn up about it."

"That's awful," Liam said. "If that doesn't tell you that life's too short."

I could have taken Liam's words in one of two ways—don't waste time holding grudges against people, because you never know when it'll be your last day, or don't waste time hoping to have something that you're never meant to have, because you'll waste your life away, and it can be gone in an instant.

At this point, I could confidently say that at least I'd returned to Landing and was with the people who mattered most. The situation with Tate was going to take more time.

"They expect to have the funeral in a couple of days, so we should all try to go," Malcolm suggested.

Not a single person in the room held back their agreement. We were all going to be there for Marco, the same as he would have been there for any one of us.

Silence had settled over the room briefly, everyone likely unable to ignore how something so tragic like this could put things into perspective. But eventually, Evelyn's voice broke into everyone's thoughts as she urged us all to grab a serving dish, wine bottle, or breadbasket before directing us into the dining room.

Once we were all seated—I'd grabbed a chair at the opposite end of the table from Tate again—and everyone was busy filling up their plates and digging into the delicious meal, Ivy asked, "So, did they find the guys who stole Marco's sister's car?"

From there, the conversation flowed seamlessly throughout the remainder of dinner. Although I wasn't exactly feeling completely comfortable, I was in a much better place than I'd been the night of Tate's birthday.

Maybe it was because I'd made it clear to him three days ago where I stood. Maybe I believed that he understood this was the way it needed to be and was going to respect that. It had to be what it was, because with the exception of when I first walked into the kitchen, I hadn't caught Tate looking at me again.

We finished dinner, helped with the clean-up, and were ushered into the room with the tree and the gifts. The tradition had always been that Malcolm and Evelyn remained each other's Secret Santa, and the gift exchange started with Evelyn giving Malcolm his gift. Then, everyone else would exchange gifts before Malcolm would give his wife her present. And every year, although everyone else stuck to the budget, Malcolm refused. It had become a tradition, and it was one that put a smile on the faces of everyone in the family.

With Malcolm's gift opened, Evelyn stuck her hand into a jar, pulled out a slip of paper, and said, "Okay, first to receive a gift after Dad is Jules. Who had Jules?"

Rhea popped up out of her seat. "That's me!" She selected the gift under the tree and held it out to her sister-in-law. "Merry Christmas, Jules."

As Jules took the gift from Rhea, I stopped paying attention to what was happening in front of me and started considering the possibilities for how this would play out. Obviously, I'd chosen Skye, so there was nothing to worry about there. But I wondered who had picked me.

In all the years I'd been part of this family tradition with the Westwoods, I'd only ever selected Tate's name once. It had been years ago. Tate hadn't ever drawn my name from the jar. What if he'd gotten it this year? Would the worst-case scenario actually turn out to be what happened here?

I couldn't imagine things would go well. After the way things had gone when I'd tried to give him his birthday gift—I wasn't even sure if he'd picked it up later and taken it home with him that night—I couldn't handle a repeat situation.

I was vaguely paying attention when Liam's name was called next. Ivy had drawn her brother's name. And when Tate's name was called, I watched Cooper rise from his seat. With each name that was called that wasn't mine and Tate didn't move to grab a gift, I grew more and more concerned that my worst fears would be realized.

"We only have two names left in here," Evelyn said, reaching for the next piece of paper. The names ran through my mind—Ivy and me. And the only remaining gift givers were Tate and Wyatt.

Please, I thought. Please let Wyatt be the one who pulled my name.

Evelyn pulled out the paper, read the name, and looked at her oldest daughter. "Ivy."

To my utter horror, Wyatt stood. This couldn't be happening. My gaze fell to my lap, something twisting in my belly. Of all the things, it had to be this.

Everyone here already knew there was some tension between Tate and me. This felt akin to being pushed out naked onto a stage in front of an audience.

I didn't even know what gift Wyatt had gotten his sister, because my mind was scrambling. All I knew was that I heard Evelyn when she said, "And it looks like Ava's the last one."

There was just barely a moment of hesitation as Tate's eyes met mine before he stood and moved toward the tree to get the gift.

I wanted to look away. I wanted to get up and run out of the house. Fear kept me right where I was. Tate came to a stop in front of me, held out the gift, and never took his eyes off mine as his voice dipped low. "Merry Christmas, Ava."

My heart was pounding so hard, I could hear it in my ears. And the pain in my throat as I attempted to swallow past the boulder that had lodged itself there was unbearable. I didn't want to take the gift.

It wasn't more than a few seconds later when I finally reached up and took the gift from Tate. Of all the years for him to have selected my name. "Thank you," I rasped, dropping my eyes to the gift in my hands.

With trembling hands, I unwrapped the paper, noting how perfectly it had been affixed to the gift. Had he wrapped this himself, or did he have someone else do it?

What was I going to find inside?

Once I had it removed and revealed the plain box beneath, my nerves and the trembling I felt in my belly seemed to increase. I swallowed hard, glanced up at him once more, and removed the lid.

Tissue paper was in the way, so I set the box on my lap, shifted the paper to the side, and discovered something that had my heart squeezing.

It was a stunning silver picture frame that was engraved along the bottom edge.

Home is where the heart is.

Maybe I could have just accepted it as it was and not looked into the deeper meaning behind it—was it an unintended slight against my foolish choice to leave Landing—but the problem was that Tate had put a photo in the frame.

And that photo was one of the two of us taken sometime not long before I left to go on tour, back when things were good between us. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Seeing that photo, feeling the stares of everyone else in the room on us, it became too much.

I looked up at Tate again, tears in my eyes, and thought I saw a hint of worry and regret in his.

"I need a minute," I rasped. I stood and set the gift down on my seat. "Excuse me."

Then I dashed out of the room and toward the bathroom.

The second I closed the bathroom door behind me, I pressed my palms on the counter of the sink and tried to breathe. Tears spilled down my cheeks.

I didn't know what to feel. I was sad, angry, hurt, and frustrated. My heart ached; my mind running ragged. I was torn between how much I missed him and how badly I never wanted to see him again.

Time passed—I didn't know how much—and I eventually decided I needed to return to the festivities. So, I took another minute or two to clean up my face and make myself look presentable again. Then I unlocked the door and opened it.

Tate was standing there, looking horrified, devastated.

I looked around, noting we were the only ones there. So much for not having to be alone with him.

"Years. For years, you never got my name. Why this year?"

"I didn't mean to upset you, Ava." He sounded tortured, like this hurt him more than it hurt me.

"Why would you get me that gift?"

"Why not? What should I have gotten you?"

Shaking my head, feeling wave after wave of disbelief and sadness wash over me, I said, "Because it implies there's something more here than we both know there is. You should have just gotten a coffee mug or something like that."

"So, something not special?" he questioned me.

"Exactly."

"Why?"

My eyes narrowed on him. "You know why."

"Ava, I want to fix this between us." His voice was in tatters. He was pleading with me. "Please give me the chance to make things right."

"I'm not ready for that. I can't handle that. Not now. Not yet."

"When?"

I swallowed hard, taking in the sight of his handsome face. "When it doesn't hurt to look at you and know I'll never have the life I always dreamed of having."

He stepped forward. "Why can't you?"

Tears filled my eyes. "Please don't do this."

"Do what?"

My throat ached, my voice barely a croak. "Tate, I'm begging you. Please let me heal from this."

"I'm trying to make that happen."

I held his stare, a single tear rolling down my cheek. "And I'm asking you to stop."

Swiping at my cheeks, I turned and walked away, ignoring the way my heart yearned for me to step forward into his arms.