Christmas Cancellation

20. KOL

Chapter twenty

W hile Noelle sat silently on the vanity, staring ahead vacantly, I stripped off my clothes. The steam from the bath now filled the room, creating a warm bubble that was far removed from the cold, harsh world outside. I turned to Noelle, who was now slumped over, practically curled up into a ball in her exhaustion, and gently lifted her down from the vanity. I carefully undressed her, treating her as though she were something fragile, in need of protection. She didn’t resist but let me take over.

Once she was undressed, I lifted her again, cradling her against my chest as I stepped into the tub. She gasped slightly when the hot water made contact with her skin. I lowered us both into the tub, positioning her so that she was lying back against my chest, then wrapped my arms around her.

We sat there for a long while, neither of us speaking, just breathing. The only sound was the occasional drip from the faucet. The heat of the water seeped into our bones, melting away the chill from outside. Her heart beat strongly against my skin while her chest rose and fell steadily, the tension in her body slowly ebbing away.

“I’m sorry, Noelle,” I murmured, pressing my lips to the top of her head. “I didn’t know about your parents. If I had, I wouldn’t have been so insensitive earlier when we drove up here or asked so much about keeping your aunt’s house. I had no idea what you’ve been through.”

She didn’t respond right away, but there was a slight shift in her posture—a softening. I tightened my arms around her, holding her closer.

“You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known,” I continued. “You’ve managed to live on your own, working at a high-stress job for these last four years. You didn’t let your grief ruin your future. That takes incredible strength.”

She shook her head slightly, her blonde curls brushing against my chest. “I’m not strong, Kol,” she whispered. “I’m just…broken.”

“No, you’re not,” I insisted. “You’re brave. You took a chance on your dream job, and no matter what happened because of that lying cheat, Blake, you’re amazing. You’ll find another job. Don’t worry about staying if living here isn’t what you want. Even though things didn’t work out the way you planned, you’re still standing. You’re still fighting. That’s strength.”

She was silent for a moment, her fingers tracing patterns in the water. “Thank you, Kol—for being there for me. I’d probably still be at the cemetery if you hadn’t dragged me home.”

I gave her a squeeze. “You don’t have to thank me for that. ”

“No,” she insisted softly. “I do.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry for all the stupid, angry comments I made earlier too. I have a crazy mouth when I lose my cool.”

I chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Yeah, well…you could slay a man with that sharp tongue of yours.”

Again, Noelle inhaled slowly, her body trembling slightly against mine. “There’s more, Kol. The situation with the house…it’s not as simple as whether or not I want to keep it.”

I waited, giving her the space to speak, to share her truth.

“Remember how I told you there was a clause in Aunt Mary’s will? Well…it’s a doozy.” She paused for a moment. “In order to keep the house, I have to move back to Saratoga and live here for the next year. If I don’t, everything goes to the church.”

That ultimatum was definitely a surprise.

“There’s more, Kol. Aunt Mary didn’t just leave me her house. She left me the home and farm I grew up on. The place where my parents…where they…”

She didn’t finish the sentence. My heart ached for her. This wasn’t just about inheriting property; this was about reclaiming pieces of herself she’d thought were lost forever.

“Shh, it’s okay,” I murmured, rocking her gently in my arms. “You don’t have to say it. I understand.”

As I held her, I made a silent vow. I would be there for her, no matter what. I would help her through this, help her find her strength, her courage. I would be her rock, her safe haven, her home, because she deserved it. She deserved to be loved, to be cherished, to be protected. And I would be the one to give her that. No matter what it took, no matter what it cost me, I would be there for her. Always.

“I don’t know what all I said or what you heard at the gravesite, but my parents’ deaths are my fault.” She said this as though it were a matter of fact .

Her words jarred me. “Noelle, that’s not true. It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”

She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “You don’t understand. I’d only been working at the Martindale Agency for six months, and it was a whirlwind of chaos with all the holiday and year-end campaigns. I was the most junior ad specialist and didn’t have a choice whether I stayed and worked. It was just part of the job.”

“That doesn’t make it your fault, Noelle. You were doing your job.”

She took a shaky breath. “I didn’t know my parents would decide to surprise me by driving down for Christmas. But they did… There was a big snowstorm rolling in—just like this one—when they set out. Evidently, a tractor-trailer jackknifed just in front of them. It was bad… The police told me they died instantly, but that piece of information didn’t make me feel any better.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”

“I don’t really remember much after the police called me. My boss was super nice, and between her and Amanda, I managed to make it home to Saratoga on Christmas Day. I can’t really explain it, but the next thing I remember is getting on a flight to Atlanta on January fourth. My parents had been buried, and my Aunt Mary had received my parents’ entire estate. I never even thought to contest it. I think a part of me was glad I wouldn’t have to go live there without them. It was easier just to put one foot in front of the other and focus on work. I shoved away my past and my memories and only let myself think about the future, about getting the promotion…and the next promotion.”

“You did what you had to do to survive. There’s no shame in that. ”

She sighed, drumming her fingers on the side of the tub for a few seconds before continuing with her story. “I never went back. Never visited. It was like that part of my life didn’t exist as long as I never thought about it. Then, when my aunt passed away a few weeks ago, I was in the middle of the biggest project of my career, so I rushed to Saratoga and left without stopping to think.”

She shook her head slightly, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “I was angry with Aunt Mary too. Soon after my parents died, she sold all our horses, and I thought she’d sold my parents’ farm too. I never reached out to her, assuming the worst about her.”

Noelle buried her face in her hands. “Kol, she never sold the place. She kept it for me. For when I worked through my grief. And the horses are only down the way at a neighboring farm.”

Her breath hitched from her sobs, and I hugged her tightly, offering what little comfort I could.

“Shh… It’s okay,” I murmured against her hair.

She sniffed. “She left me the farm… Then, today, meeting people I knew and seeing everything, it all came back. And then…and then, with Mrs. Dottie, the dam just broke.” Her sobs grew louder as she turned her body and buried her face in my chest.

“I’ve been so wrong about everything, absolutely everything,” she choked out. “Wrong about pursuing a meaningless career, wrong about trusting a narcissist like Blake, wrong about the people who matter…wrong about everything. You probably think I’m the dumbest, shallowest person on earth.”

I took her chin between my fingers and tilted her face, forcing her to look at me. “Noelle, I don’t think that. You’ve been through hell. You’re neither dumb nor shallow. You’re human. You’re one incredible woman who has faced unimaginable loss while moving forward despite how difficult things got. ”

She looked down, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry that I’m so emotional and dramatic. Please forgive me.”

I pulled her chin back toward me, saying firmly, “There’s nothing to forgive. You’ve been carrying this pain for too long. It’s time to let it go.”

She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes again. “I can’t believe I’m crying like this. I’m such a mess.”

I brushed a tear from her cheek, my thumb tracing its path. “You’re not a mess. You’re hurting. And it’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel all of this.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I just…I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“You don’t have to fix anything right now. You just have to feel it. Let it out. Let yourself grieve.”

She nodded, her tears flowing freely now. “I miss them so much. I miss my parents so, so much.”

I rocked her gently in my arms. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

My fingers brushed her skin in soothing patterns.

“You’d think after all this time it wouldn’t bother me so much.”

“No, that’s not so. I don’t think you’ll ever stop missing them, but time will help you manage your emotions better. There will always be triggers that will make the pain resurface,” I insisted. “When that woman outside the coffee shop started going on and on… God, I wanted to rip her throat out. What an insensitive hag.”

Noelle shook her head slightly. “She didn’t mean any harm. It’s just her way.” She heaved a sigh. “Mrs. Dottie used to babysit me when I was little. Hell, she even babysat my mom when she was a kid. She’s the same age as Aunt Mary, who was ten years older than my mom.”

“So your aunt and your mom were close?”

“No, not really. They had a strained relationship, but they loved each other. And I know Aunt Mary loved me too.”

“All families are complicated.”

She turned slightly to look up at me. “Well, your family doesn’t sound complicated.”

“Oh, trust me, it is. Big Catholic family, remember? Being the oldest son in a large family comes with its own set of complications—especially when you’ve lapsed , as you so politely put it. Plus, you haven’t met them yet.”

A hint of a smile played on her lips. “Yet?” she echoed.

I grinned, imagining the chaos that would ensue when I brought Noelle home. “When I take you to family dinner, you’ll be the first girl since high school. My momma will lose her mind. She’ll be all over you.”

Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink, and for the first time since we’d arrived back at the house, her natural enthusiasm flickered back into life.

“You must think I’m a total nutjob after the stunt I pulled in the cemetery,” she whispered.

“Absolutely not. I understand the tragedy of death and the process of grief as well as anyone.”

She looked at me, her eyes filled with questions. I took a deep breath, preparing to delve into a part of my past I rarely talked about.

“Afghanistan changed me—changed everything about how I see the world,” I began. “I saw things…things that no one should ever have to see. The Taliban treats women like property. They beat them, stone them, sell them like cattle. I saw a woman stoned to death because she was accused of adultery. I saw a girl, no older than twelve, sold to a man old enough to be her grandfather. ”

Noelle watched me closely, waiting for me to continue.

“I saw so much death and destruction over there…so many innocent lives lost.” My voice cracked slightly as memories surfaced—memories I’d tried so hard to forget.

“One day, I was flying a mission to take out a high-value target—a Taliban leader responsible for countless atrocities.” My throat tightened as images from that day replayed vividly in my mind.

“I had him in my sights and had just launched a missile,” I said, every word stabbing me in the chest like a knife. “And then, out of nowhere, this car came barreling into view—a mother and her two children inside.”

I paused, struggling to keep my voice steady.

“They drove right into the path of the missile I’d just launched. I watched as the car exploded, their bodies tossed like rag dolls. The devastation unfolded in my viewfinder, and I was helpless—unable to do anything but watch them die.”

Noelle’s eyes widened in horror.

The familiar ache in my chest returned, the guilt that never truly went away. “That day, a piece of me died. It made me doubt everything—my faith, human nature… It all seemed so incongruous to the hell I was surrounded by. For the first time, I understood the true cost of war. The innocence lost, the lives shattered. So believe me when I say I understand your feelings of both anger and sorrow.”

Noelle’s eyes were brimming with tears once more. She reached up, cupping my cheek in her hand, her thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t even realized had fallen. She leaned in, pressing her lips softly against my cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Kol,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

I closed my eyes, savoring the warmth of her touch, the softness of her lips.

I was falling for her—falling hard and fast, like a skydiver without a parachute. But I didn’t care. I wanted to fall, to lose myself in her, to let her heal the broken parts of me. Healing wasn’t just about leaning on someone else; it was about confronting the pain head-on, something I still struggled with. Noelle had been bottling up her pain, just like I had—pushing it down instead of facing it. But burying this kind of trauma only made it fester and grow.

“Have you ever talked to someone about your parents? Like a therapist?” I asked.

She stiffened in my arms, her fingers pausing their idle tracing patterns. “No,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t… I didn’t want to talk about it. It was easier to just…not think about it. You know?”

I nodded, understanding exactly how she felt.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Talking to anyone about my parents’ deaths just made everything worse. I thought focusing on work was the best way to move forward. It was the perfect distraction. I could lose myself in campaigns and deadlines and pretend nothing had happened.”

A pang of sympathy went through me; I knew all too well the danger of using work as a coping mechanism. “And now?” I asked, kissing her temple again.

“Now, I don’t know. Being back here, seeing everyone, it’s like…it’s like everything is rushing back, and I can’t stop it.”

“You can’t run from it forever. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

She raised her face, her dark blue eyes searching mine. “What about you? Have you worked with a therapist? ”

I hesitated. This was a topic I usually avoided. But she deserved the truth. “In the military, we go through psych evals. It’s mandatory. But I was careful not to get stuck in that trap.”

“Trap?” she asked.

“Yeah, in the military, especially for pilots, getting labeled with PTSD or any mental health issue can get you grounded. So you learn to tell the doctors what they want to hear.”

Her brow furrowed, a frown forming on her lips. “But why would they not let you fly if you sought help? Why is getting mental health care a bad thing?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “It’s complicated. For pilots, mental health is…it’s a tricky subject. We can’t just admit to having issues, not without risking our careers.”

“But that’s ridiculous. If you’re struggling, you should be able to get help. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“It’s not fair, but it’s the reality of the situation. The FAA has strict regulations about it. If they think you’re unstable or unfit to fly, you’re grounded. No medical, no job. And very likely the end of your career. Trust me, they don’t take kindly to pilots with mental health issues.”

“So, what do you do? Just…deal with it on your own?”

I shook my head. “Not exactly. I have a group of buddies who are in the same boat as me, so we support each other. Some of them are pilots like me and can’t get official help, but others can and have. We talk and work through stuff together. We share what we’ve learned from those who can get help and apply it to ourselves as best we can.”

She bit her lip, looking thoughtful. “So…just talking helps?”

“Yeah, it does. It doesn’t fix everything overnight, but it helps to know you’re not alone in your struggles. It’s not the same as seeing a therapist, but it’s something. Over time, I’ve worked through a lot of the guilt. ”

“Guilt? What do you have to feel guilty about?”

I hesitated, but she had opened up to me, so I owed her the same honesty. “Survivor’s guilt. Seeing things, doing things…that change you. Knowing you made it out but others didn’t.”

“And what about now? Do you still struggle with it?”

I shook my head. “Not like I used to. I’ve come to terms with a lot of it. And I’m lucky. I have a big family, people who love and support me. That makes a difference too.”

She was silent for a moment. “I wish I had that. I wish I had someone who loved me like that, someone who would be there for me no matter what.”

I tightened my arms around her, a fierce protectiveness rising within me. “You do. You have me.”

She regarded me carefully. “But for how long? What happens when you decide I’m too much drama, too much baggage? What happens when you decide you don’t want to deal with my shit anymore?”

I cupped her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She shook her head. “You can’t promise that. You can’t promise you won’t leave me too.”

She was right. I couldn’t promise her forever, not yet. But I could promise her now. “I’m here now, Noelle.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

We both had our demons that haunted us. And if we wanted to build something real, something lasting, we’d have to face them together.

I just hoped we were strong enough to do it. Noelle deserved that—deserved to be happy, to be loved. And maybe I did too.

Noelle shivered .

“I think it’s time to get out of this tub,” I said with a chuckle, ruffling the ends of her wet hair. “The water’s turning into a mini ice rink. I don’t need you turning into a Noelle-sicle on me.”

She groaned, resting her head on my chest. “Ugh, you’re right. My fingers are all pruned up. But, hey, at least the house is warmer now.”

I stood and pulled her up with me, water cascading off us. She rolled her eyes but smiled. We climbed out, and I handed her a towel. She whipped the towel around her and tucked the corner in so that it looked like a dress.

I smirked. “You know, you even make a towel look like designer clothes.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Please, I look like a drowned rat.”

“If that’s what drowned rats look like, I’ve been severely misinformed.”

She wrinkled her nose at me and rummaged through her tote, pulling out a small bag of toiletries and placing it on the vanity before darting into the closet. I tugged on a pair of jeans and slid on a sweatshirt, then ran a comb through my hair.

Noelle returned sporting dark red flannel pajamas with with a snowflake and reindeer pattern, her face lighting up with mock-pride.

“Check these out,” she said, walking toward me and turning slowly with her arms held out. “Adorable, right?”

I rolled my lips in, trying to suppress a laugh. “Adorable doesn’t even begin to cover it. I guess you’re going for granny festive tonight?”

She gave me a playful nudge with her elbow. “Hey, don’t knock them until you’ve tried them. They’re cozy. I spotted them in the closet earlier. I think my aunt must have just bought them, because the tags were still on. ”

“Whatever you say, but just so you know, if you start jingling when you walk, we’re gonna have to have a talk.”

“Jingle?!” She blinked a few times, almost looking offended. “These are classy reindeer PJs, thank you very much. And they most definitely do not jingle.”

“Okay, I take it back. Those might be the best pajamas I’ve ever seen.”

“Damn right they are,” she said, flipping her hair back dramatically. She bent over, searched under the counter, and straightened up triumphantly with a blow-dryer in hand. “Yes! Now we’re talking.”

I walked over and wrapped my arms around her waist from behind. She leaned back into me, and I buried my face in her damp hair, kissing her neck.

“I’m going to run out and grab us some food for dinner,” I murmured against her ear.

She turned her head slightly. “You’re not trying to escape my reindeer pajamas, are you?”

I chuckled, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Nope, I promise the reindeer are safe from me, at least for now. But I figure you’re going to need something warm and comforting to eat. Pizza? Chinese?”

She tilted her head in thought, the blow-dryer still clutched in her hand. “Mmm, pizza sounds good. But I’m craving something with extra cheese. Make it happen, Mr. Captain.”

I kissed her temple and released her. “You got it. Extra cheese, coming right up.”

She smiled, turning back to the mirror and plugging in the blow-dryer as I headed out.