Christmas Cancellation

19. KOL

Chapter nineteen

N oelle sprinted down the street, and I raced after her, dread twisting in my chest with every frantic step. She was a storm of emotions. This wasn’t just a run—it was an escape. She was trying to outrun something far more profound than the old woman’s cruel words.

She took a sharp right into St. Peter’s Cemetery, the snow crunching under her boots. I hesitated at the entrance, watching her fight her way across the slippery snow- and ice-covered ground toward a specific gravesite. The cemetery was eerily quiet; the silence broken only by the harsh sound of her labored breathing.

I kept my distance but stayed close enough to hear her anguished whispers. She stumbled forward, stopping in front of a large black headstone that was barely visible beneath the thick layer of snow.

Her body trembled, her chest heaving as she took quick, shuddering breaths. Right now, her grief was raw and bleeding, a wound that refused to heal. She flung out her arm, shoving the snow from the top of the headstone in a single, desperate motion.

“Why did you leave me?!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the silent cemetery. “Why did you drive in that damn storm?”

I stood frozen, every muscle in my body tensing as I watched her unravel. Her pain was palpable, a physical force that hit me like a punch to the gut. I could feel it—every ounce of her agony—as if it were my own.

She clawed at the snow in front of the headstone, revealing the engraved names of her parents.

“You didn’t have to come! I didn’t need you to come!” Noelle’s voice wavered with sorrow. “If I hadn’t been working, if I had just come home…”

I wanted to go to her, wrap her in my arms and tell her it wasn’t her fault. But she needed this, needed to let it all out. So I stayed rooted to the spot, watching as she continued to swipe the snow away, her movements frenzied and desperate.

“You left me all alone. For what? For fucking Christmas?” Her hands shot out to her sides, fingers splayed and arms flailing wildly.

“Everyone always says such stupid things,” she spat out. “Like Mrs. Dottie—saying you’re in a better place or that it’s God’s plan. It doesn’t help! It just hurts more!”

She gripped the edge of the headstone, falling to her knees in the snow. Her sobs were heart-wrenching, tearing through me like shards of glass .

“It’s all my fault you died!” she screamed, pounding her fist against her chest. “Why did you leave me all alone? Why is my life such a disaster? Why does no one love me?”

Her other hand slid down the face of the headstone, gliding over their names. “Why should I get to live when you don’t? I don’t deserve to be here.”

Her questions were a litany of pain, a desperate plea for answers that would never come. Letting her head droop, she beat her fists on the ground while her tears melted the snow beneath her. “I can’t do this! Why…why?”

She screamed again and again, pouring out years of pent-up grief and anger. I moved closer but stopped just short of touching distance. This moment belonged to Noelle and her parents. My heart broke for her—she’d been carrying this weight alone for too long.

All I could do was stand there, a silent sentinel in the face of her storm. All I could do was watch as she wept, her tears a river of grief that flowed from the deepest parts of her soul. All I could do was be here for her, a steady presence in the midst of her chaos.

As much as it hurt to watch, I knew this was a necessary step for her healing—a step that seemed long overdue—so I waited.

Eventually her screams faded to sobs.

She started to shake uncontrollably. I couldn’t stand by and watch her suffer any longer. I needed to hold her, to let her know she wasn’t alone.

But as soon as I reached out to touch her shoulder, she whirled around, her eyes wild. “Don’t,” she hissed. “Don’t touch me.”

I froze, my hand hovering in the air between us. Her eyes flashed with unfiltered agony—it was tearing her apart. And I resolved, in that moment, that I would do anything to take her pain away—anything to make her whole again .

“I’m not leaving you here,” I said firmly. “We need to get you home.”

“No! You should just leave me like everyone else does. I’m no good for you,” she barked.

Her words cut me like a knife, but I stood my ground. “I’m not everyone else.”

“You had your easy fuck. Now leave. Get in your shiny red Bronco and get the hell out of here.”

Her words were meant to hurt, to push me away. I’d seen it before, in the eyes of soldiers who’d lost too much. But I wasn’t going to leave her, not like this.

“Noelle, you need to come home and get warmed up. It’s freezing out here.”

“This isn’t your issue!” she yelled, pounding her fists against the snow-covered ground. “Go be with your perfect family, because hanging around with me will only bring you bad luck.”

“I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever.”

“Just go away, Kol! Leave me alone!” she shouted, but there was a crack in her voice this time—a crack that told me she didn’t really want me to leave. I stepped closer.

She looked up at me, her eyes wild with grief and anger. “Why? Why do you even care? I’m a mess, Kol. A complete fucking mess. You should walk away. No, you should run far away from me.”

Bending down toward her, I said simply, “You matter to me. And I’m not running anywhere.”

I took a deep breath, bracing myself for what I had to do next. Before she could react, I scooped her up, throwing her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She yelped, pounding her fists against my back and kicking her legs wildly.

“What the hell are you doing? Put me down!” she yelled against my back. “I hate you! I fucking hate you! ”

I tightened my grip. “No you don’t. You can say you hate me all you want. You’re angry and hurt, but you don’t hate me, and I’m not letting you go.”

Although she continued to squirm and fight, I held on, my long strides eating up the distance as I hiked back toward the house. Her screams filled the air, and her fists pummeled my back, but I didn’t falter. She needed this—needed to fight, to rage against the pain.

“You can’t just carry me off like this!” she shouted. “Do you think you can just swoop in and save me? You think you can fix this?”

“I can, and I am,” I replied bluntly.

Within a few minutes, her struggles were starting to weaken, exhaustion setting in. In silence, I kept going—walking down the street, trudging up the driveway, and climbing the porch steps.

I opened the door with my free hand and stepped inside. The house was warm and toasty—the power was back on. Without hesitation, I marched us straight upstairs and kicked open the bathroom door. I set Noelle down on the vanity. Her silence said it all—she was completely drained, both physically and emotionally.

“Stay put,” I commanded.

I went over to the claw-foot tub and turned on the faucet. Soon the hot water began steaming up the room. I tested the temperature, ensuring it was nice and hot, but not scalding, before returning to her.

She sat there, her eyes red and puffy, her cheeks streaked with tears. She looked broken, shattered into a million pieces.

“You’re not leaving me, Kol?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I met her gaze. “No, Noelle. I’m not leaving you.”