Christmas With My Ex (Stuck For the Holidays)

5. Rives

FIVE

Rives

Silver and gold, silver and gold / Everyone wishes for silver and gold.

The Butcher & The Baker

201 E Colorado Ave

3:09 pm

Nicholas holds the door open for me, ever the gentleman. A blast of warmth hits my face as we step out of the cold.

I notice a glint under his sleeve as his arm stretches. Is that the watch I gave him all those years ago? Surely he doesn’t still wear the gift I gave him that one Christmas we were together.

A warmth swirls in my body, traveling from my toes to my head at the thought. No, it can’t be.

“You okay?” he asks, his brow furrowed with concern as he glances down at my crutches. “I’m worried about you being out here on those things in this weather. Shouldn't you be somewhere with your legs propped up?”

I wave him off, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with a little snow. Maybe first time with crutches, but it can't be that different, right? I'm good, thank you for asking.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push it either. We’ve been walking through the snow-covered streets of Telluride, and it is pretty slick out there. I’ll give him that. But I refuse to let a bum knee ruin the trip. I had enough of a pity party earlier.

We’re seated at a small table by the window, and the view outside is nothing short of magical. The heavy snow drifts down from the darkening sky, coating the historic building fronts with a soft layer of white.

Garlands hang from every doorway, and twinkling Christmas lights wrap around street lamps, casting a warm glow that makes the whole street look like something from another time, like straight out of a Charles Dickens novel.

Nicholas, of course, notices my limp as I settle into my seat. He leans across the table, his voice low. “Honestly, maybe we should’ve just grabbed takeout. I don’t want you to make your injury worse. Didn’t you say the doctor told you to prop up your leg?”

I roll my eyes, shaking my head. “Relax, I’m fine. I need to move around a bit. Besides, I’m not about to spend this whole trip cooped up in an expensive hotel room. I can rest when I get back to Knoxville.”

He leans back, smiling a little. “Okay, but just take it easy. It’s not like you’re in a race.”

“Noted,” I say, keeping my tone light as I look out the window again. The snow keeps falling, almost eerie in its quiet beauty. It’s peaceful, the street nearly deserted except for the soft glow of Christmas lights reflecting off the snowbanks.

"In all reality, it isn't even four o'clock. How wild and crazy can I get eating dinner with the AARP crowd?"

“Feels later than it is,” Nicholas says, making me feel better. “But I guess it’s later in Knoxville, so our bodies really think it is after five.”

I nod, realizing that I’ve lost track of time. It’s still early here in Telluride, but the dark skies and heavy snow and a couple of beers in my belly make it feel like midnight. “Yeah, but after the day I’ve had, it might as well be tomorrow. I’m starving.”

He laughs softly. “Yup, I could eat. A nice dinner sounds like the perfect end to this day.”

The server approaches, a friendly woman with dark hair and a bright smile. “What can I get you two this afternoon?” she asks, handing us the menus. “Anything jump out at you?”

Nicholas glances at me, then back at the server. “We were actually hoping you could recommend something.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Well, if you’re looking for something hearty, we’ve got a lamb shank with polenta and roasted root vegetables that’s pretty popular. It’s a house favorite.”

My stomach growls at the thought, and Nicholas nods in agreement. “That sounds amazing. I’m in.”

“Same,” I say, not even pretending to look at the menu. “Lamb shank it is.”

As she walks away, the conversation flows easily, almost too easily. We start talking about Telluride, how beautiful the town looks this time of year, and soon enough, we’re sharing stories about our favorite travel spots. It feels comfortable. Like slipping back into something familiar.

As I watch him across the table, I can’t help but notice how damn handsome he is. The kind of handsome that used to make me lose my mind, back when we were together. His light brown hair is tousled in that effortless way, and the light from the window catches in his deep brown, intense eyes, making them seem warmer than I remember from the end of our relationship.

It would be so easy to let myself fall back into that, into him. Even if only for a holiday soiree, but I know better. I know who he is and what he’s not willing to give. We’ve been down this road before, and I’m not about to go tumbling down that slippery slope again, letting myself fall for him and then get disappointed.

When it comes to Nicholas Snowden, I know I can't just play and walk away. There are real feelings when it comes to him. It took me years to get over that broken heart.

I take a sip of water, reminding myself to keep him at arm’s length. It’s best that way. Nicholas is the kind of man who’s all in when it's new and exciting. But he made it very clear that his career and son come before anyone or anything else.

Plus, we’re polar opposites, and when we were together, he was never willing to meet me halfway. He couldn’t keep up with me, and wasn't willing to make room in his life for anything beyond his career and Nicky, except to squeeze me in here and there on his terms.

I get it—being a single dad is hard, and I respect that. But I was young, eager to live life, to explore, and he was already weighed down by responsibility. We burned brightly, but it wasn’t sustainable.

We ended up fighting more than we loved toward the end, and I couldn’t keep up with the way he constantly pushed me away, made me feel like second fiddle.

As if sensing the shift in my mood, Nicholas looks up. “You okay?”

I force a smile, nodding. “Yeah. Just thinking about this storm. It is still daytime and it is dark out there.”

“Yeah, I’m sure its going to be a nasty one," he agrees, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he looks away. The way those brown eyes narrow seriously melts me every time.

Shit, I'm in trouble.

The food arrives, breaking the tension, and we dig in. The lamb shank is everything I needed—rich, tender, with the perfect mix of hearty vegetables and creamy polenta. It’s the kind of meal that makes you forget all the crap that’s been piling up in your life, even if just for a little while.

As we eat, the conversation lightens again, and I let myself relax, enjoying his company. This is the good stuff, what I fought so hard to keep, and what broke my heart so badly when I lost it.

4:01 pm

We are finishing our early dinner and I keep stealing glances at Nicholas. The warm glow of the restaurant's Christmas lights softens his features, reminding me of why I fell for him five years ago. Outside, the storm is picking up, fat snowflakes swirling past the frosted windows.

"Let me walk you back to your hotel," Nicholas insists, his brown eyes filled with concern as he glances at my crutches.

I hesitate, not wanting to seem weak, but the throbbing in my knee convinces me. "Alright, but I'm not made of glass, Snowden."

When I tell him I'm staying at The Auberge, a look of surprise crosses his face. "You're not going to believe this, but that's where I'm staying too."

The coincidence is annoying but I brush it off as we step out into the snowy evening. Telluride's main street is a winter wonderland, with twinkling lights adorning every storefront and lamppost. The scent of clean winter air surrounds us, mingling with the crisp reminder of the approaching storm.

Nicholas walks close, ready to steady me if I slip. His warmth is both comforting and unsettling, stirring feelings I thought I'd buried long ago.

At the hotel, he suggests a nightcap. "One cocktail," I agree, "then I really should elevate this knee.”

"Why don't we grab a bottle of wine instead?" he counters. "My suite has a living area. You can put your foot up properly."

Against my better judgment, I agree. "You know wine is my weakness, how can I refuse?"

"Perfect. Just let me make the order and grab some glasses."

In his suite, I sink into a plush couch, propping my foot on a pillow. Nicholas is pouring the wine when his phone rings. The moment he answers, his whole demeanor shifts.

"Hey, buddy," he says softly, his face lighting up. It's his son. Immediately, he abandons preparing our wine, a familiar trope while spending time with him. Everything else always comes before me.

As Nicholas paces, engrossed in the call, I'm sharply reminded of why we didn't work. His dedication as a father is admirable, absolutely, even sexy. But as a partner, I constantly felt sidelined, never the priority.

He ends the call, tucking his phone back into his pocket. He walks over to me, looking genuinely apologetic.

"Sorry about that," he says, handing me a glass of wine. "It was Nicky. He wanted to tell me about riding the horse carriage in Charleston. He was so excited that I couldn't cut him off."

I take a sip, letting the rich flavor of the wine spread across my tongue. "No worries," I say, softening. "We all want to be heard."

He laughs, the sound warm and familiar. "Have you been to Charleston? I know you love to travel. I've always wanted to visit and it's one place I've never been that's on my bucket list."

"I have been a couple of times," I tease. "Seriously, though, it is a great place. I would suggest you go for the food, alone. And, of course, the carriage rides. Gotta do at least one of those."

He grins, his eyes lighting up. "You had me at food."

I'm grateful for the easy banter, my earlier irritation dissolving. Nicholas has this way of disarming me, making me forget why I was upset in the first place.

"So," he says, settling into the chair across from me, "what's the most adventurous thing you've done since we last saw each other? Besides getting a bum knee skiing all alone in the backcountry before a huge snow storm."

I lean back, considering. "Well, since you put it that way, it does sound quite adventurous. I did this crazy cliff dive in Bali last year. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time."

"Of course you did," he chuckles, shaking his head. "I love the way you continue to seek the craziest thing to do. That sounds amazing."

"And you always were the voice of reason," I counter.

"Hey now," he says, raising his glass in a mock toast, "someone has to be the grownup."

"Easy."

"Cheers to taking risks and living life to the fullest," he thoughtfully says as he holds his glass toward me for a toast.

"Cheers."

Nicholas leans back in his chair, looking at me with that familiar intensity that used to make my heart race. And I'm not going to lie, my heart is racing right now.

"So what's next on your adventure list?" he asks.

"I don't know," I admit with a shrug. "I think I'm just going to take it easy for a while. Let my knee heal first before any more crazy stunts."

"That's probably a wise decision," he nods approvingly. "But not forever—you have to keep being you."

"I appreciate you saying that," I say with a smile.

I laugh again, feeling myself slipping right back into old habits with him. As we continue talking about lighter topics—the best ski slopes we've tackled, funny ER stories—I'm reminded of why we worked so well together once upon a time.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and go out. Then, the dim glow of the emergency lighting comes on. Nicholas looks almost ethereal. And then as fast as they went off, the lights are back on.

The air between us crackles with tension. His fingers brush against mine, sending shivers down my spine. For a moment, I consider what it might feel like to have his lips on me again, but then reality crashes in.

I can't do this. I can't have just a casual hook-up with Nicholas. The truth is, I realize I never really got over him. Five years is a long time for the heart to still feel that pull to someone who broke it.

Going down this road would catapult me right back to where I was when we finally ended it. It took months to crawl out of that depression, years to feel like I could really move on.

"I should go," I say abruptly, setting down my barely-touched wine. "It's been a long day, and this swollen knee is angry with me for abusing it. It's time for me to really call it a night."

Nicholas looks surprised, maybe even a little hurt, but he nods. "Of course. Let me help you back to your room."

As I hobble to the door, I steal one last glance at him. God, why does he have to smell so goddamned good?

"No, I'm fine, really," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm in the safety of the hotel and only have a few feet to walk to the elevator, so no need to keep fussing. Stop making me feel like an old lady."

"I hear you," he replies, his tone laced with what seems like disappointment, but that could be from being all alone or missing out on a hookup. He can be as disappointed as he wants. I have to protect my heart.

As I make my way back to my room, I try to convince myself I made the right choice. But the ache in my chest tells a different story.