Chloe (Angel Institute #4)

Chapter 11

Eleven

CHLOE

I make my way through the bustling Christmas market in the Benton Falls city park. Twinkling lights strung between wooden stalls cast a warm glow over everything, transforming the familiar space into a winter wonderland. Spice and pine mingle with the aroma of roasting chestnuts, creating an intoxicating blend that seems to embody the very essence of the holiday season.

I pause at a stall selling hand-knitted scarves, running my fingers over the soft wool. A week ago, I would have scoffed at the idea of wearing anything not bearing a designer label. Now, I seriously consider buying one. What is happening to me?

“Chloe. Over here.”

I turn to see Oliver waving at me from near the ice skating rink. His wide smile is punctuated by his bright hazel eyes as his gaze meets mine. He’s bundled up in a forest green parka, a matching knit hat pulled low over his ears. The sight of him sends a flutter through my stomach that has nothing to do with the cold.

As I make my way over, weaving between families and couples enjoying the festive atmosphere, I can’t help but feel a sense of giddy anticipation. The knowledge of what I’ve done—the anonymous donation to save Oliver’s store—sits warm in my chest, a delicious secret that makes me want to laugh out loud.

“Hey,” I say as I reach him, suddenly feeling shy. “Nice hat.”

Oliver grins, his cheeks rosy from the cold. “Thanks. My mom made it for me. Ready to show off your skating skills?”

I glance at the rink, where people of all ages are gliding—or in some cases, stumbling—across the ice. “I should warn you, I haven’t been skating since I was a kid. I might be a bit rusty.”

“Don’t worry,” Oliver says, his eyes twinkling. “I’ll catch you if you fall.”

The words send a warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with my thick coat. As we make our way to the rental booth to get our skates, I find myself hyper-aware of Oliver’s presence beside me—the brush of his arm against mine, the sound of his laughter as he jokes with the attendant.

“Here,” he says, handing me a pair of white skates. “Let’s sit over there to put them on.”

We make our way to a bench near the rink. As I lace up my skates, I can’t help but notice how at ease Oliver seems, greeting everyone who passes by with a warm smile or a friendly word. It’s so different from the corporate world I’m used to, where interactions are often calculated and relationships are measured by their potential value.

“All set?” Oliver asks, standing up and offering me his hand.

I nod, suddenly nervous. What if I fall flat on my face in front of everyone? But as I take Oliver’s hand and he helps me to my feet, I’m struck by how solid and warm his grip is. For a moment, I forget to be worried about falling.

We make our way to the rink’s entrance, the sound of blades scraping against ice and cheerful laughter growing louder. As we step onto the ice, I wobble slightly, my legs feeling unsteady.

“Whoa there,” Oliver says, his arm immediately going around my waist to steady me. “I’ve got you. Just take it slow.”

The feel of his arm around me sends a jolt through my system that has nothing to do with the cold or my unsteady balance. I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and we glide forward slowly.

At first, I’m tense, too focused on not falling to enjoy the experience. But as we make our way around the rink, Oliver’s steady presence beside me, I begin to relax. The rhythm of gliding across the ice comes back to me, muscle memory from childhood winters spent at the local rink in my hometown.

“See? You’re a natural,” Oliver says, his voice warm with encouragement.

I laugh, the sound surprising me with its lightness. “I wouldn’t go that far. But it is fun.”

As we continue to skate, I take in the surrounding scene. Children zoom past, their laughter ringing out in the crisp air. Couples hold hands as they glide along, lost in their own little worlds. The twinkling lights reflect off the ice, creating a magical, shimmering effect.

“Oh, look,” Oliver says, nodding towards a corner of the rink. “They’ve set up a photo booth. Want to get a picture?”

I hesitate for a moment. A photo would be evidence of this night, of my time in Benton Falls. Something tangible to remind me of... what? This town that isn’t mine, this life that isn’t real?

But then I look at Oliver’s hopeful face, and I nod. “Sure, why not?”

We make our way off the ice and over to the booth. It’s decorated to look like a giant snow globe, complete with fake snow and twinkling lights. As we squeeze into the small space together, I’m acutely aware of how close Oliver is, the warmth of his body next to mine.

“Okay, ready?” he says, pressing the button to start the countdown. “Say cheese.”

The flash goes off four times in quick succession. As we step out of the booth, the strip of photos prints out. Oliver takes it, grinning as he looks at the results.

“Oh, these are great,” he says, showing me.

I lean in to look, and my breath catches in my throat. The first photo shows us both smiling at the camera—nothing unusual. But in the second, Oliver is looking at me instead of the camera, his expression soft. In the third, I’m laughing at something he said, my head thrown back in a way I barely recognize as myself. And in the fourth...

In the fourth photo, we’re looking at each other, and the connection between us is almost palpable. I look happier than I’ve seen myself in years.

“We should get back to skating,” I say quickly, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. “I think I’m ready to try it on my own now.”

Oliver nods, tucking the photo strip into his pocket. “Lead the way.”

Back on the ice, I push off with newfound confidence. The cold air whips past my face as I pick up speed, and I feel a rush of exhilaration. I can’t remember the last time I felt so... free.

I complete a lap around the rink and find Oliver waiting for me, a proud smile on his face. “Look at you go,” he says. “I knew you had it in you.”

As I come to a stop beside him, I’m filled with a sudden, overwhelming urge to kiss him. The thought shocks me so much that I lose my balance, stumbling forward.

Oliver catches me, his brawny arms wrapping around me. For a moment, we’re frozen like that, our faces inches apart. I can see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek.

“Thanks,” I whisper, my heart pounding.

“Anytime,” he says softly.

We stay like that for a beat too long before slowly separating. As we resume skating, side by side now, I can feel something has shifted between us. The air seems charged with possibility.

After a while, we decide to take a break and explore the Christmas market. Oliver buys us both cups of hot cocoa, and the rich, chocolaty scent wafts up, warming my cold nose.

“So,” Oliver says as we wander among the stalls, “how are you liking Benton Falls’ Christmas traditions so far?”

I take a sip of my cocoa, considering. “It’s... different from what I’m used to,” I admit. “But in a good way. Everything feels so... genuine.”

Oliver nods, understanding in his eyes. “That’s what I love about this town. Everyone really comes together, especially during the holidays.”

As we walk, I open up to Oliver in a way I never have before. I tell him about my childhood, about the Christmases spent in foster homes where I never quite felt like I belonged. About how I threw myself into my career, thinking success and money would fill the void I felt inside.

Oliver listens attentively, his hand finding mine as we walk. The warmth of his touch seems to travel up my arm, thawing something frozen inside me.

“You know,” he says softly, “it’s never too late to create new traditions. To find a place where you belong.”

His words hit me like a gentle wave, washing away some of the walls I’ve built around myself. For the first time, I allow myself to imagine what it would be like to stay in Benton Falls, to be part of this community. To be with Oliver.

The thought should terrify me. A week ago, it would have. But now, as we stand in the glow of the Christmas lights, surrounded by the warmth and joy of the season, it fills me with a sense of peace instead.

We make our way to the reindeer petting zoo, where children are squealing with delight as they feed carrots to the gentle creatures. Oliver immediately starts chatting with the caretaker, asking about the reindeer’s diet and care routine.

As I watch him interact with the animals and the people around us, I’m struck by how effortlessly he connects with everyone. It’s a skill I’ve always admired in others, but never quite mastered myself.

“Want to try it?” Oliver asks, holding out a carrot to me.

I hesitate, eyeing the large animal warily. “I don’t know...”

“Come on,” he encourages. “Donner here is a real sweetheart. Aren’t you, buddy?”

The reindeer snorts softly, as if in agreement. With a deep breath, I take the carrot from Oliver and hold it out. Donner’s velvety nose brushes against my palm as he gently takes the treat, and I can’t help but laugh at the ticklish sensation.

“See? Not so scary after all,” Oliver says, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back.

As we continue to explore the market, I find myself relaxing more and more. We sample local cheeses, admire handcrafted ornaments, and even try our hand at decorating gingerbread cookies at a workshop set up in one stall.

My cookie ends up looking like a disaster, with icing smeared everywhere and candies placed haphazardly. Oliver’s is a work of art, with delicate piping and a perfect candy cane border.

“How are you so good at this?” I ask, laughing as I compare our creations.

Oliver shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Years of practice. You should see the gingerbread houses we make at the store every year.”

As the evening wears on, the market becomes even more magical. The lights seem to twinkle brighter against the darkening sky, and the sound of carolers fills the air. Oliver and I find ourselves drawn back to the skating rink, now illuminated by strings of fairy lights.

This time, as we glide across the ice hand in hand, I feel completely at ease. The fear of falling, both literally and figuratively, seems to have melted away. Instead, I’m filled with a warmth that has nothing to do with my winter coat and everything to do with the man beside me.

“Chloe,” Oliver says softly as we come to a stop at the edge of the rink. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

The sincerity in his voice makes my heart skip a beat. “Me too,” I reply, surprised by how much I mean it.

For a moment, we just stand there, our hands intertwined, gazing at each other. The world seems to fade away, the bustling market becoming a quiet backdrop to this perfect moment. Oliver’s hazel eyes, flecked with gold in the soft light of the lamps, hold mine. I can see every emotion I’m feeling reflected back at me—hope, joy, and a touch of nervous excitement.

Then, slowly, Oliver leans in. I meet him halfway, my heart racing in anticipation. As our lips come together in a tender kiss, I’m overwhelmed by a rush of sensations. His lips are soft and warm against mine, a stark contrast to the chilly winter air around us. The kiss tastes like hot cocoa and possibility, sweet and comforting, yet thrilling with the promise of new beginnings.

I catch the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the crisp winter air and a hint of sweet vanilla from the nearby food truck. The gentle pressure of his lips sends a tingling sensation through my body, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

As we kiss, I hear the town clock chime the hour. The deep, resonant tones seem to reverberate through me, marking not just the time, but the start of a new chapter in my life. The sound mingles with the soft rustle of snowflakes falling around us and the distant echoes of Christmas shoppers.

Oliver’s arms encircle me, strong and secure. I feel the rough wool of his coat beneath my fingertips as I rest my hands on his chest, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm against my palm. The warmth of his embrace contrasts deliciously with the cold snowflakes melting on my cheeks.

When we finally part, both a little breathless, I open my eyes to see Oliver’s face lit up with a joy that I’m sure mirrors my own. His smile is soft and tender, filled with a warmth that makes me feel cherished and cared for.

“Wow,” he whispers, his breath forming a small cloud in the cold air between us.

I can’t help but laugh softly, feeling giddy and light-hearted. “Wow indeed,” I agree, my voice barely above a whisper.

As we stand there, still wrapped in each other’s arms, the world slowly comes back into focus around us. The twinkling lights, the gently falling snow, the bustling Christmas market - it all seems brighter, more vivid than before. This kiss, this moment, has awakened all my senses, making me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt.

It’s as if I’m experiencing the magic of Christmas, of love, of Benton Falls, all at once, with every fiber of my being. And as Oliver takes my hand, ready to continue our evening stroll, I know with absolute certainty that this is just the beginning of something wonderful.

As we make our way off the ice, I’m struck by how different I feel from the woman who arrived in Benton Falls just a couple of weeks ago. The drive for success and financial security that has defined me for so long seems less important now. Instead, I find myself valuing the connections I’ve made, the joy I’ve found in simple moments like this.

We return our skates and begin the walk back to town, our hands still linked. The streets are quiet now, most of the townspeople having headed home for the night. But the Christmas lights still twinkle merrily, and the occasional sound of laughter drifts from houses we pass.

“So,” Oliver says as we near my grandmother’s house. “What did you think of your first Benton Falls Community Ice Skating Night?”

I pretend to consider for a moment. “Well, the company was pretty good,” I tease. “But I think I might need a few more lessons before I’m ready for the Olympics.”

Oliver laughs, pulling me closer. “I’d be happy to volunteer as your personal instructor.”

As we reach my front porch, I find myself reluctant to say goodnight. The evening has been like something out of a dream, and I’m afraid that once it ends, the spell will be broken.

“Oliver,” I say, turning to face him. “I want you to know... I’m really happy I came to Benton Falls. And I’m really happy I met you.”

The smile he gives me in response is so warm, so full of genuine affection, that it takes my breath away. “I’m happy too, Chloe. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

He leans in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the first, like he’s trying to tell me something, our hearts whispering to one another. When we finally pull apart, we’re both a little breathless.

“Goodnight, Chloe,” Oliver says softly, his forehead resting against mine.

“Goodnight, Oliver,” I reply.

As I watch him walk away, his figure fading into the snowy night, I’m filled with a sense of contentment I’ve never experienced before. The old Chloe would panic right now, making plans to leave town and forget this ever happened. But as I unlock my door and step inside, I realize I don’t want to run anymore.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like I might belong. And as I get ready for bed, the memory of Oliver’s kisses still tingling on my lips, I allow myself to hope that maybe, just maybe, I’ve found someone I belong with too.

The secret of my donation to save Oliver’s store, which had been burning inside me all evening, now feels like a warm glow in my chest. It’s no longer just about saving a business. It’s about preserving a piece of this community that I’m growing to love, about ensuring that the joy and warmth I’ve experienced tonight can continue for years to come.

As I drift off to sleep, my dreams are filled with twinkling lights, the sound of blades on ice, and the warmth of Oliver’s smile.

And I can’ t wait or tomorrow.