Work Text:
The Love We Should’ve Had
“Bye, Dad. I’ve got to run,” David called up the stairs as he shrugged on his thick coat. “I’ll be back for dinner Friday!”
“Hold on a minute, son! I need a word with you!” The bang that followed made David sigh as he tried to imagine what box of chaos his father had just upended. How he could function in that mess he called an office was a mystery. “Off so soon?”
“Yeah. It’s Tuesday.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot.” Mr. Jeffreys appeared at the top of the stairs, his graying hair was slightly wild from the number of times he’d run his fingers through it and his glasses were balanced precariously on his nose. “On Tuesdays and Saturdays, there’s someone far more important than your mother and I, isn’t there?”
David couldn’t stop the blush that ran up into his face as he tried to protest that of course she wasn’t more important – though the thoughtful words weren’t helped as he reached for the doorknob.
“David, come and sit down a minute.” Mr. Jeffreys said in the kind but stern tone he always used when David was being particularly stubborn. “We need to have a chat, and since your call isn’t for an hour, you have enough time.”
“It’s forty minutes, actually–”
“Come on!”
He moved past his son and into the sitting room, and David waited exactly five seconds before letting out a deep sigh. He kicked off his boots and slung his coat back onto the hook. His father patted the sofa next to him when he entered, and David obediently crossed to sit beside him.
“I can’t stay long – I still need to–”
“David, I promise that Jemima won’t kill you for being a few minutes late to your call. In fact, once this is all said and done, I daresay she’ll thank me for it.” His father leaned back in his seat.
“Henry?” His mother’s shout made David jump, turning towards the kitchen, where she was banging pots and pans around as she tidied. “Henry, has David left yet?”
Mr. Jeffreys flashed an amused grin at his son before shouting back. “Not yet, love. I need to have a chat with him first.”
“About bloody time.”
“What’s going on, Dad?” David’s eyebrows drew together as the frown twisted his face. “What did you need to talk to me about?”
“It’s to do with Jemima, son.” Mr. Jeffreys fixed David with a stern expression, mild disappointment shining in his eyes. “I thought I taught you better than this.”
David’s heart stuttered as he scrambled to work out what his father was talking about. “Taught me better?”
“David, listen,” his dad said, his voice a little firmer than usual. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’ve never been one to rush into things, you like to think every big decision to death, but this… this is different.”
David ran a hand through his hair, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa. It was as though his dad had started speaking a different language. He wasn’t making sense. “Dad, what are you talking about?”
“Jemima.”
“What about her? I thought you liked her, Dad?”
“Of course I do, and you know your mother adores her.” Mr. Jeffreys waved his words away impatiently. “This isn’t about us. You’ve been walking around for months like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and I’ve had enough of it. You are head-over-heels in love with her and evidently are too afraid to do anything about it. And in the process, you’ve been stringing this poor girl along for months.”
David swallowed, words failing him for a moment. His mind raced, but his heart beat in his ears. He felt like he’d been caught doing something wrong. Loving Missy had always felt a little wrong. She was too good – too beautiful and wonderful and kind – for him.
And, more than that, she’d become a part of his life that he couldn’t live without.
“Dad, it’s not that simple.” He sighed, shaking his head. “She’s my best friend. I can’t ruin that–”
“Who says you’ll ruin it?” His dad’s voice was gentle now, full of understanding. “How do you know this won’t be the best thing that’s ever happened to you? I didn’t marry your mother because it was easy. I did it because I couldn’t imagine a future without her.”
Mr. Jeffreys reached for David, clapping him on the shoulder. “Can you imagine spending the rest of your life without Jemima? Or do you think waking up next to her every morning – do you think the possibility of sharing a beautiful, full, happy life together is worth any risk?”
David stood up and started pacing the room, his thoughts a whirlwind of doubt and hesitation. “I can’t lose her, Dad. She’s the best part of my life.”
“I don’t think you will lose her, son.”
David’s neck hurt from the speed he whipped around to stare at his father. His eyes bugged out of his head and his mouth had fallen open. “What does that mean?”
Mr. Jeffreys laughed, shaking his head. “Only that as someone older and wiser than you, I’ve noticed a few things. Like how Jemima looks at you when she thinks no one’s paying attention. Or the way that she blushes when you lift her during a hug. She lights up whenever you walk into the room, and I’ve never heard anyone laugh so hard at your horrible jokes, son. You’re not a comedian.”
His grin was contagious, and for a moment, David felt himself smiling, too. And then Jemima, her face alight with amusement and her eyes shining, flashed through his mind and the grin dropped.
Could he really have a chance with her? She was so far out of his league it was hard to believe. She was everything he could ever want in a partner and more. She was better than he could have ever imagined.
It was no surprise he’d never worked up the courage to ask. She was the girl of his dreams, and happily-ever-afters didn’t happen in real life.
“Son, she’s fallen just as hard for you as you have for her, only you’re both young, dumb and blind so neither of you are brave enough to make the first move.”
His stomach lurched at the idea of their call later, let alone the prospect of telling her the one thing he’d held back from her as long as they’d known each other. He was shaking his head before he realized it, but a reassuring weight on his shoulder made him look up from the floor.
“David, think about it for one moment.” Mr. Jeffreys held his son’s gaze, raising an eyebrow. “Most friends drift apart eventually. And even if you don’t, if you sit back and wait, someone will beat you to it. Jemima’s an amazing young woman, and if it’s not you, then someone else will sweep her off her feet.”
David actually flinched at the thought. What if he lost her? What if he took too long to say the words, and Jemima… found someone else? The thought hit him like a physical blow. His stomach tightened. Could he live with that? Could he live with her not being in his life the way she was now, if not more?
His father pressed on in the same calm, steady voice as before.
“You’ll have to watch her fall in love with him and get married and be happy. And maybe, you’ll be okay. Maybe you’ll find another lovely woman and be just as happy. Or maybe you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” He gave his son’s shoulders a gentle shake. “Now, tell me, is the risk worth it? Yes, you could strain or even ruin your friendship if I’ve misread things – if she doesn’t love you that way. Or, you could fall even more deeply in love with her, marry her, and have a beautiful life together.”
David swallowed, hard, and looked up at his dad. It felt like something was lodged in his throat and his heart was beating slightly too fast, but he took a deep breath anyways.
“I’ll tell her when she visits for Christmas. I can’t do it over the phone.”
Mr. Jeffreys grinned and turned towards the kitchen. “He says he’ll tell her over Christmas, love!”
“What’s that?”
“David’s gonna tell Jemima he loves her when she visits for Christmas!” he repeats in a louder voice.
“Good! Invite her for Christmas Eve, David! She’ll want to spend Christmas day with her family, I expect.”
“Alright, Mum!” David knew better than to try arguing that Jemima might already have plans. His mother was stubborn, and it couldn’t hurt to invite her. “I love you!”
“Love you, too, son!”
“I’ll walk you out,” Mr. Jeffreys offered with a smile.
He started chatting about the business as David walked towards the door and pulled his boots and coat back on. He invited David to start joining him Wednesdays to learn the ropes of running the business and teased him about being his intern and bringing coffee. David made a mental note to bring his dad a large cup of hot coffee when he came Wednesday, and hugged him tightly when he said goodbye.
“I’m proud of you, son. Jemima’s a lucky girl.”
David laughed, stepping back. “She’s not my girlfriend yet. And if she was, I’d be the lucky one, not her.” He glanced at his phone and sighed. “Especially not when I’ll be late for our phone call. Love you, Dad.”
“David!”
Her squeal of excitement made his heart flip, and he nearly slipped as he rushed down the three steps to the front porch. Her cheeks were flushed and her blonde curls were wild as she sprinted towards him.
“Missy!”
He caught her easily, spinning her around and around, snow crunching under his feet. She clung to him, eyes bright, and he felt his insides lurch in the pleasant way they always did when it came to Jemima. He set her down a bit shakily, steadying her with an arm slung around her waist, and tried very hard not to think about the way she leaned against him.
“I missed you,” he mumbled in her hair as he leaned down for another hug. She still hadn’t let go, and he would never dream of letting go first. “I’m glad we talk and text all through the week, but it’s not the same.”
“I know!” she cried, stepping away and beaming up at him. Her hands found his and she squeezed them tight. David felt a blush rising into his face and hoped she attributed it to the cold. “I can’t wait for summer break, but that’s ages away!”
“We’ll get through it,” he mumbled, glancing over his shoulder. “For now, though, my parents are excited to see you, and I think Mum said she’d make us tea.”
Her smile seemed to grow even brighter, and she dropped one of his hands. She rushed ahead, dragging David behind her, and crashed through the front door.
“Mr. Jeffreys! Mrs. Jeffreys!” she hollered, relinquishing her grip on David only as long as it took both of them to strip off their coats and shoes. “I’m back!”
David’s dad appeared at the top of the stairs, one eyebrow rising at the sight of their joined hands, and a small smile creeping over his face. David quickly shook his head and his dad waved him away.
“Hello, Jemima, how are you?” he asked kindly as he walked down to join them. “How’s school going?”
“School’s been wonderful, though it’s getting harder…” She was off, happily chattering to Mr. Jeffreys.
David stood in a blissful daze beside her, reveling in the feeling of their fingers laced together. His heart was doing gymnastics inside him, flipping and spinning and turning this way and that in time to her musical voice.
Mr. Jeffreys somehow managed to shoo the chattering Jemima and absent-minded David into the sitting room without dropping the conversation. Mrs. Jeffreys was waiting, a warm smile on her face and tea and Christmas cookies waiting on the table.
“Oh, Jemima, dear!” she cried, interrupting the younger woman’s flood of words and pulling her into a tight hug. “Happy Christmas!”
“Happy Christmas, Mrs. Jeffreys!”
“Oh, sit down, sit down!” She shooed everyone into seats, and somehow David ended up sitting beside Jemima on the sofa while his parents claimed the armchairs. “Please, dear, call us Alexandra and Henry! We’re practically family at this point–”
Mr. Jeffreys cleared his throat, cutting his wife off, and she blinked owlishly at him. David felt a moment of panic. His mother must have seen their joined hands and jumped to the same conclusion as his father.
It was too soon. He wasn’t ready yet. He’d had it all planned out!
“Thank you, Alexandra,” Missy answered, smiling, though confusion still flashed across her face. “What do you mean ‘practically family?’”
“Just that you’re here so often, we’ve come to think of you as something like family,” Mr. Jeffreys answered. “Almost like Ted – I don’t know if you’ve heard about Ted yet, but he was David’s childhood best friend and you wouldn’t believe the mischief they got up to together.”
“I’ve heard about Ted, but David must have been holding back from me!” She turned to him with wide eyes and a twitch to the corners of her lips. “You told me you were a little angel when you were growing up!”
“I never said that!” David protested lightly. “But I might have… avoided certain stories.”
“Oh!” She turned to Mrs. Jeffreys, squeezing David’s hand even tighter as she did, and leaned forward. “Tell me everything!”
Jemima’s smile was worth any embarrassment that was sure to come with childhood stories of him and Ted, so David settled in for a long afternoon of reminiscing.
Stories of him and Ted lasted about an hour before Mrs. Jeffreys revealed a hint about her husband getting into an argument with a mall Santa when David was a baby. David and Jemima instantly demanded to hear the story over Mr. Jeffreys’ protests.
He retaliated once the tale was over by telling them about the time Mrs. Jeffreys had lost David in a department store, only to find him an hour and a half later, once security was long-since involved, cheerfully sitting in a display crib with half a dozen toys strewn around him.
Jemima volunteered her own handful of stories growing up with three siblings, cheerfully listing favorite pranks and silly mistakes and embarrassing moments from school that had little Missy in tears but the four adults laughing until their stomachs ached.
Eventually, she glanced at her watch and realized with a start that it was past dinner time. She apologized over and over again, but gently turned down their invitation to stay. She explained that she’d already agreed to go out to dinner tonight with her mother, but promised she’d be there for Christmas Eve.
David walked her to the door and grabbed her coat while she was hunched over, pulling on her shoes. She straightened and looked around wildly before her eyes fell on him.
He was holding the coat open for her, and she stepped closer to him, giggling slightly. Her hand moved up to gently flick at his ear before she turned her back to him. “You’re a bit of a prat; did you know? If not, I’m terribly sorry to be the one to break it to you.”
He shook his head and rolled his eyes, but once she was facing him, he made a big show of rubbing at his ear and wincing.
“First you hurt me and then you insult me! Where did the love go, Missy? After all these months of friendship, is one chivalrous gesture all it takes before you decide to bully me?”
“Oh, hush, you big baby!” she giggled, pressing a kiss to her fingers before patting his ear gently. “Thank you for holding my coat.”
“Any time, Missy,” he murmured. He wondered if she could hear the sincerity hidden in his voice behind the light laughter.
“Are you free for coffee tomorrow morning?” she blurted, wringing her hands together. “I know it’s a bit last minute, but otherwise, I won’t be able to see you until Christmas Eve!”
He hesitated and then let out a deep sigh. “No, I’m not. I have work tomorrow morning. So unless you wanted to meet for coffee at five in the morning, or something–”
“I’ll be there!”
He blinked down at her, confused and wondering if he’d heard her right. “Be where?”
“At our coffee shop tomorrow morning at five.”
“You?” He couldn’t hold back the chuckle. “Missy, you can’t drag yourself out of bed any sooner than seven most mornings.”
“Unless it’s something really, really important to me, David.” She leaned forward, gripping his hand. “So I’ll be there at five. I hope you will be, too.”
He met her determined gaze and felt his stomach twist. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Her smile knocked his breath away and he could only wave as she called a cheerful ‘goodnight’ and left. He stood still for several long moments before his dad called him and his mum demanded help with dinner.
He walked to join them, lighter than air, as he thought of starting his day tomorrow by meeting his favorite person in the world.
The hour they had, sitting and drinking coffee together in the small, quiet shop was the only thing that made the prospect of a week back to phone calls and texts when she was in town bearable. Nothing remarkable happened – they just caught up and joked and chatted – but it felt so wonderfully like things going back to normal that it gave David some hope for Christmas Eve.
She apologized again and again for overbooking her week but promised that the second half of her break was mostly free, so she could spend more time with him.
Without classes to force her out of bed early in the morning, their nightly phone calls stretched into the early hours of the morning. He’d read while she did homework until they started talking, and the night would disappear in a moment. He’d go to work with bags under his eyes, but an unshakable smile stuck on his face.
The week before Christmas passed in a blinding, giddy whirl, and before he knew it, David was waiting at his parents’ house in nervous anticipation of her arrival. He was wearing a brilliant red jumper with an obnoxiously green tree pattern, and he suddenly started second guessing himself. Should he have worn the Christmas-red button-down instead?
But when he answered her knock and accepted her coat, his nerves flew out the window. His jaw dropped.
“Happy Christmas!” she squealed, flinging her arms around him. He barely caught her, shock making his movements slow and sloppy. She pulled away quicker than usual, cheeks flushing as she looked around. “It smells wonderful!”
A moment later, she turned, eyebrows pinching together and a frown forming on her lips. She caught his eye and shifted from foot to foot. She bit her lip and reached a shaky hand out to grip his arm. “David? Is something wrong?”
He couldn’t answer. He’d forgotten how to speak entirely and was sure his eyes were about to fall out of his head as he stared at her.
She was nearly swallowed up by the slightly too big and thick cream-colored jumper. She was wearing a red skirt with it that almost reached the floor, and he wondered, a bit absently, if she’d sown the fluffy white trim on herself.
“David?”
“You look gorgeous,” he blurted, only for his face to go beet red a moment later. “I mean, Happy Christmas.”
He turned and gestured toward the kitchen, desperate to redirect the attention away from his blushing face. “Come in! Mum’s been in the kitchen half the day – I tried to help, but the third time she threatened to stab me, I decided it would be better for my health if I stayed away.”
Her giggle made him straighten and restored some of his confidence. “Dad wised up quicker than I did, and he’s already on his third mug of mulled wine.”
Jemima giggled, but she lingered for a moment, looking up at him in concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little flushed.”
“I was out in the cold just before you got here.” He took a deep breath and gathered his nerves. “And I’m much better than okay.” He tried not to sound too awestruck as he avoided her gaze. “You look like you walked straight out of a Christmas card.”
That earned him a shy, dazzling smile, and she stepped past him into the house. She spun on the spot as she looked around the transformed hallway, admiring the careful decorations his mother had set up over the past few days. The railing was wrapped with garland and lights, and a small, snowy village was set up on the little table. A few dozen hand-cut snowflakes were neatly taped to the wall, and, David knew, all throughout the house.
The air was filled with the mingled scents of spiced cider and pine filled and the roast in the oven. Christmas carols had been softly playing from the radio in the corner for hours, and David was sure the large playlist had repeated itself three times by now.
He took a steadying breath, glancing into the sitting room, where the too-big tree was standing, lit by a thousand lights and covered in tinsel and ornaments. The little package wrapped in shiny red paper caught his eye, and he felt his heart stutter.
Tonight would be the night.
He just had to find the right moment.
“David?” Her voice broke into his thoughts. She was already hovering in the doorway leading to back half of the house, with the kitchen, dining and sunrooms all were, her eyes wide and bright. “Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there staring at the tree all night like a child waiting for Santa?”
He laughed nervously, stepping guiltily away and rubbing the back of his neck. “Right behind you.”
She linked their arms together as he joined her and pulled him to join his parents. She pulled at his sleeve playfully and her eyes twinkled as they met his. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your gift tonight. But let’s wait until after dinner.”
“I’m not worried,” he lied, pulling at one of the long curls that she had tied half-up by a ribbon that matched her skirt. “After dinner then.”
“I like your jumper, by the way. Very Christmasy,” she added before dropping his arm to give his dad a hug.
Dinner was announced soon after, and they settled in for a wonderful meal together. Stories flew around the table just as they had over tea the other day, and David felt a warmth explode inside him. It felt so natural – so right – to have Missy here with him and his family. His dad treated her the same as he treated David, and his mum, sitting across from him, kept leaning in to whisper with her.
He couldn’t help but wonder what she was saying, especially when it resulted in Jemima’s cheeks going slightly pink and a broad smile taking over her face. He was caught staring at her a few times, but unlike before, when he would stammer an apology or an excuse, he just beamed at her.
The meal passed quickly, and David jumped to volunteer to clean the dishes. His mum waved him and his dad off, grabbing Jemima’s arm and dragging her off for what she called ‘girl time’ but David was almost positive was just an excuse to tell more embarrassing stories about him.
Mr. Jeffreys nudged David’s arm and raised an eyebrow at him when he looked up. The question was clear, and though David’s face flushed, he nodded.
“That storm’s supposed to be a bad one,” Mr. Jeffreys mumbled, nodding out the window.
The sun had already set a few hours ago, and David saw a flurry of thick snowflakes already swirling outside. He bit his lip nervously at the thought of Missy driving home in it and wondered if he could convince her to let him drive.
“Hopefully not too bad.” He grinned at his dad, plunging his hands into the water. “The sooner we get this washed up, the sooner we can have dessert.”
“The best motivation I’ve ever heard!” Mr. Jeffreys agreed cheerfully.
David mentioned the storm hesitantly as soon as they rejoined the women, but Jemima brushed his concerns away immediately. She could wait it out if it got too terrible, and she wanted to see if it would lighten up before trying to drive home in it.
He probably should’ve told her it was a bad idea. His dad tried, telling her gently that the forecasts said it would get worse, not better, but when she waved his warning away, David felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
He’d planned to tell her tonight, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pluck up the courage a second time.
Dessert was served with a side of mulled wine. It had never been David’s favorite – he’d always preferred hot cocoa and endured the gentle teasing from his parents that came with it – but tonight, it soothed his slowly returning nerves. Jemima enjoyed it enough to indulge in a glass and a half, turning down another so she could drive home.
It was Mr. Jeffreys, in the end, who ushered everyone into the sitting room to sit by the tree. He acted like an overexcited kid every Christmas, though he was more eager to play the role of Santa than he was to receive presents.
The first present was thrown at David. It would’ve hit him full in the face if he hadn’t been ready and caught it. He grinned at Jemima’s gasp and watched his father walk the gifts to his mother and Missy, handing them over gently.
He didn’t say a word until he was settled back in place in the armchair beside the tree. He was smiling so wide it looked like it might hurt. “Well, go on! Open them!”
David tore the package open, finding the traditional pajamas inside. These were thick flannel, checkered red and black, and soft under his fingers. His mum had a matching set and he was sure his dad’s were already waiting upstairs. But the surprise was the same pajamas in Jemima’s hands.
She blinked up at Mr. Jeffreys, a small grin on her lips but her eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
“It’s family tradition that we all wear matching pajamas on Christmas Eve.” Mr. Jeffreys’ eyes twinkled. “And like Alexandra said the other day, you’re close enough to family that it counts. Besides, it would’ve been weird for the two of them to open matching gifts and leave you out.”
She stood and crossed the room to fling her arms around him. “Thank you!”
“Don’t thank me yet!” he protested, doing his best to sound stern through a warm smile. “We’re not done. Go back and sit down and thank me at the end like that ungrateful scamp.”
“Hey!” David hollered as Missy giggled and returned to her spot next to him.
But she sat closer this time, and their knees brushed together. His stomach lurched and he supposed he couldn’t be too mad at his father after all.
Most of David’s gifts would wait until tomorrow, but he was also given a joke Christmas mug, a pair of fluffy socks with blurry ornaments patterned on them and a thick book he’d been wanting to read. Missy and Mrs. Jeffreys got the same, each holding up different patterned socks to admire, silly mugs to laugh at and books for each to enjoy.
After the ‘thank you’s were said and done, Mrs. Jeffreys planted a kiss on her husband’s lips and teased him about getting soft in his old age. He retorted that he’d always been the softer one out of the two of them, and kissed her again to prove his point.
Their moment was ruined by David mock-gagging, and Jemima gasped, smacking him with a pillow and scolding him as his parents laughed.
Mr. Jeffreys let out a long sigh, standing and stretching. “Well, I’d say it’s time to get to bed. Otherwise, we won’t get a visit from Old Saint Nick.” He smirked down at David, and he read that he was about to get paid back for his gagging. “Don’t forget to leave out milk and cookies, or you’ll find coal in your stocking.”
David sighed and agreed over Jemima’s giggles. His dad would do it, too. He glanced at the tree again, at the little box shining red, and felt his heart stutter.
But then his eyes caught on the window, and all thought of nerves left his mind.
“Missy, look!”
Her eyes widened and she stumbled as she stood, crossing to get a better look. “How did it get so high so quickly? I’d freeze to death before I could get to my car, and I doubt I’d make it home in this!”
“I can try driving you home,” David offered slowly, though he doubted his little milk float would fare any better in the snow any better than her car.
“Don’t be stupid!” she snapped, then sighed and ran a hand through her curls. “I’m sorry, it’s just – what am I supposed to do?”
“You can always spend the night here,” Mrs. Jeffreys offered. “David is, anyways, and I can make up the spare room for you.”
Jemima only hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Call your mum and tell her you’ll be home as soon as the roads are cleared, and I’ll go get your room ready right now.”
She shot a stern look at David when he opened his mouth to say he’d do it instead and shook her head at him. Her eyes flicked to the tree behind him, and a fresh resurgence of the anxiety flooded back into him.
“I’ll be right back, David,” Jemima murmured, grabbing her pajamas and phone. “I’m gonna go change and call Mum.”
“Alright–”
She was gone before he could say anything else, and he slowly picked himself up. He grabbed his own pajamas and the joke mug and decided a cup of hot cocoa was what he needed to fortify himself.
His pajamas were comfortable, and the mug warmed his hands when he returned to the sitting room ten minutes later. The milk and cookies ordered were obediently waiting on the coffee table with a note reading ‘For Santa Only’ for good measure.
Jemima hadn’t reappeared yet, but he set the bottle of mulled wine down on the table, just in case she wanted some. If not, there was half a mug’s worth of extra cocoa on the stove.
The socks were warm and soft, and he sat on the sofa, watching the thick, fluffy snow fall in a swirl outside.
Jemima didn’t make a sound when she stopped beside him. He patted the sofa and she curled up next to him. She was adorable in her pajamas that matched his, though it looked like his father had been a size off. She was practically swimming in them, and had tied the hem of the shirt into a knot a few buttons higher than the end.
“What do you have there?” she whispered.
“Hot cocoa. There’s more on the stove, or I brought the mulled wine in.”
“Cocoa sounds wonderful.” She paused for a moment. “But I don’t want to get up.”
“I’ve got it.” David started to sit up, but her hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“No, I don’t want you to –” She stopped, and when he looked over, she was biting her lip. Was that fear he read in her eyes? “What if we shared?”
“Shared?”
“Your mug.”
“Oh.” He blinked a few times, glancing down at his drink and swallowing. Why did his heart have to start racing? Friends shared drinks sometimes. It wasn’t anything worth thinking about. “Of course.”
She grinned, leaning forward and tipping the mug she hadn’t bothered taking from him. Her hands around his somehow felt a thousand times warmer than the cocoa, and he wondered if she was actually that warm or if he was imagining it.
They sat there, silently drinking his cocoa, for what could’ve been hours but was probably only a few minutes. He didn’t dare break the silent spell of this moment, blaming Christmas and hot cocoa for the magical moment. Why else would Jemima be leaning further and further into his side with every passing second?
She was the one to break the silence, letting out a long sigh. “I forgot the presents in my car earlier. I didn’t think it would be a problem and just thought I’d grab them later, but…”
David sat up a bit straighter, turning towards her. “Don’t worry about it. I can wait until tomorrow or tomorrow’s tomorrow if I have to.” He grinned at her eye roll and took a deep breath to gather his courage. “But I still want to give you your present, if it’s alright with you?”
She straightened, too, pulling away so she could sit sideways. Their knees brushed together and his stomach flipped as she fixed her lovely brown eyes on him. “Alright.”
He stretched as far as he could, pulling a muscle or two, but managed to grab the small box without having to get up. Her smirk when he straightened told him he wouldn’t be able to live down his perceived laziness, but when their legs bumped again, he admitted the truth to himself.
He couldn’t bring himself to leave her side just yet.
“So, my timing with this storm is either the best or the worst,” he began slowly, before stopping. “Actually, open it first, and then I’ll explain. It’ll be better that way.”
She blinked down at the gift he thrust towards her before turning confused eyes on him. “David, should I be worried?”
“Just open it.”
She sighed, but her smile returned quickly as she slowly peeled the tape off the wrapping paper. Her shredded paper earlier was proof that she was just trying to wind him up, and if he wasn’t so nervous, he would have laughed.
It took ages but the paper eventually fell away. The box came next, and she slowly pried the top off the bottom, letting gravity to most of the work as David watched on, biting his lip so hard he thought he might break the skin.
She gasped when she saw the Christmas-red velvet covered jewelry box inside and turned to him with wide eyes. “David, what did you do?”
He waved her on, too anxious to say anything, and she pried it open with trembling hands. Her gasp made his nerves spin even tighter and he tried to read in her face if she was happy or upset.
All he could see was shock as she traced her fingers gently along the cool metal inside. “It’s beautiful, David. I can’t believe you remembered.”
“Of course I remembered,” he mumbled, face flaming.
She’d gone on a long rant about how much she hated gold a few months ago. She’d been talking about a watch gifted to her by her father for her birthday that didn’t go with any of the silver jewelry she tended to favor, but she couldn’t bring herself to buy more gold jewelry that she would end up disliking.
The solution suggested to him by the jeweler he visited was nestled inside the box. It was a heart-shaped locket, engraved with swirls and small flowers that gleamed a shining rose color.
“Open it,” he whispered after a few long seconds of her just staring down at it.
She pulled it free from the box, fumbling slightly, and it took her several attempts of hooking one of her nails into the little groove before she pulled it apart successfully. It swung open and she inhaled sharply, her breath escaping shakily a few moments later.
On the left was her nickname – ‘Missy’ – engraved in swooping, elegant letters, and on the right was a small picture David had painstakingly picked out of the many Jemima had taken during their time together in the summer.
This particular image was from one of their rare shared days off, and they’d driven nearly two hours at her insistence to go for a hike in the woods. It took an hour to reach the top of the mountain, and this was the picture she insisted they got there, despite their flushed faces.
But Jemima looked so radiant and overjoyed, her arms around his neck as he took the picture, that he’d picked this one over others where they looked more put together and weren’t sweaty and red.
“David?” Her voice shook as she turned to him. “What is this?”
“It’s a locket, Missy. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one – going to that fancy school of yours.” He bumped his shoulder against hers, but his smile quickly faded and he bit his lip. “Look, I’ve been holding it in since the day I met you, at first because you were so beautiful and wonderful and then because you became my best friend.”
He let out a shaky sigh, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think I could ever bring myself to risk out friendship, but here I am.” He stopped to summon his courage, fighting against the fear urging him to stop. “Dad helped me realize that I can’t be happy sitting back and watching you fall in love with someone else.”
He paused, wondering if he dared look at her.
“David…” Her hand slipped under his chin and she turned him to face her. Her eyes were wide, and she was gasping, breathless. Her hands trembled as they reached for his, the locket tangled in her fingers. “What are you saying?”
“I love you, Missy. I’ve loved you for ages and been too afraid to tell you, but I can’t stay quiet any longer.” He took a deep breath and forced out the rest in a fast stream of words. “And I understand if you don’t feel the same. We can pretend nothing happened, but I had to try–”
He was cut off as her lips met his. The kiss was sweet and slow, but it sent an explosion of heat racing through him. Her lips were softer than he’d dared imagine, and her hand against his cheek grounded him in this impossible moment. Every trace of fear melted away in a single moment. His heart thundered and his mind froze and all he could do was wrap his arms tighter around her and pull her closer.
She pulled back a few moments later, panting, and he had to force his brain to work before he realized he was still holding his breath. He let out a relieved laugh, tugging her gently until she was pressed against his chest.
“I hope that means you love me, too. Or at least like me.”
“Of course I love you, you idiot! I’ve been waiting for this moment forever, and now you tell me like this? What am I supposed to do with that?” She beamed up at him, taking the heat out of her words, and snuggled against him. “Except go on loving you anyways, I suppose.”
“That works just fine for me,” he murmured into her hair. “If I’d known this was how you would’ve reacted, I would’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry you fell in love with an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot!” she snapped, sitting up and looking at him. “My boyfriend is charming and handsome and thoughtful and kind and I won’t hear another word against him!”
David’s smile was so wide is almost hurt. “Your boyfriend, is it?” He waited until her cheeks went pink before continuing, reaching for her. “I could get used to that.”
They fell asleep in each other’s arms on the sofa, the guest bedroom forgotten, and woke up on Christmas. Jemima fretted when it came time to go back to school, but David reassured her that everything would work out just fine for them.
Christmas Eves became special for the two of them. David teased that Christmas had a special magic just for them, and Jemima would wave him away and scold him for being ridiculous, though he knew she loved it.
They celebrated their first anniversary with a trip to a cabin near the trail they hiked. It snowed and trapped them inside, where they spent hours playing games and snuggled up by the fire and dreaming together about the future.
The next year, David got down on one knee and delivered a heartfelt speech as he wore a bright Christmas jumper, balanced next to a gloriously large Christmas tree in a fancy restaurant. When she threw her arms around him, he almost lost his balance and took out the tree, but the whole place exploded into applause and he doubted anyone would’ve minded anyways. Later, Jemima refused to admit to the tears that had streamed down her face, but they both knew, and that was more than enough for David.
They scheduled their wedding three days before Christmas Eve the following year, and got to enjoy their magical day on their honeymoon, warm in southern France for a week before returning home to their jobs – his milk route and her publishing internship.
Though they settled into the mundanities of adult life, they always celebrated Christmas Eves just as happily as their wedding anniversary, careful to spend both days together, reveling in their love and happiness.
A few years later, when they welcomed a little boy – Peter Henry Jeffreys – into their family on Christmas Eve, it felt like fate.
Hours after, as Jemima and David squeezed together onto her bed, their sleeping son tucked between them, David couldn’t resist leaning down to whisper in her ear.
“See? What did I tell you? Christmas is magical.”
Jemima let out a breathy laugh, turning into her husband and grabbing his free hand with hers. “Alright, David. You win. It’s magic.”
The End