10. Struggling Hearts, Christmas with My Grumpy Ex (Feuding Hearts Christmas #1)

10. Struggling Hearts

STRUGGLING HEARTS

MAX

I stand at the head of the conference table, my eyes scanning the room as I address the team. "Alright, let's go over the final vendor confirmations for the gala. Where are we with the catering?"

My voice is steady, professional, but my mind keeps drifting back to that night in the ballroom. Ellie's soft skin under my fingertips, the taste of her lips, the way she whispered my name...

I shake my head slightly, forcing myself to focus. "Chase, what's the status on the floral arrangements?"

Chase, our head of event design, clears his throat. "We're all set, Mr. Wellington. The florist confirmed this morning that they'll be delivering at 6 AM on the day of the gala."

I nod, jotting down a note. "Excellent. And the ice sculptures?"

"Arriving at 7 AM," Chase replies. "We've arranged for them to be stored in the walk-in freezer until setup begins."

My gaze inadvertently drifts to Ellie, sitting at the far end of the table. She's bent over her tablet, her brow furrowed in concentration as she takes notes. A strand of hair has escaped her usually impeccable bun, and I have to resist the urge to reach out and tuck it behind her ear.

"Mr. Wellington?"

I blink, realizing I've missed something. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

Merrilyn, our head of guest services, gives me a concerned look. "I was just saying that we've finalized the seating chart for the VIP tables. Would you like to review it before we send it to the printer?"

"Yes, of course," I say, grateful for the distraction. "Send it to my email, and I'll look it over this afternoon."

As the meeting continues, I find myself struggling to stay focused. Every time Ellie speaks, offering insights on the event timeline or suggesting last-minute touches to enhance the guest experience, I'm transported back to that night.

The way her body fit perfectly against mine, the soft sighs she made as I...

"Max?"

I start, realizing the room has gone quiet. Everyone is looking at me expectantly, including Ellie. Her eyes meet mine for a brief moment before she quickly looks away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

"Sorry," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "It's been a long week. Where were we?"

Merrilyn steps in smoothly, redirecting the conversation to the final guest list. I nod along, trying to ignore the knowing looks some of the staff are exchanging. It's clear I'm distracted, and I silently curse myself for letting my personal life affect my professional demeanor.

As the meeting wraps up, I catch Ellie's eye. "Ms. Hawthorne, could you stay behind for a moment? I'd like to go over a few details for this afternoon."

She nods, her expression carefully neutral. As the rest of the staff files out, I can feel the tension in the room ratcheting up. When we're finally alone, Ellie turns to me, her arms crossed defensively over her chest.

"What details did you want to discuss, Mr. Wellington?"

The formality in her tone stings, but I know I deserve it after the way I left things between us. "I... I wanted to confirm the time for our outing with Amelia this afternoon. We're still on for ice skating at Wollman Rink, right?"

Ellie's expression softens slightly at the mention of Amelia. "Yes, of course. I told Amelia I'd meet you both there at 3 PM."

I nod, searching for something else to say. There's so much I want to tell her, to explain, but the words stick in my throat. "Ellie, about the other night..."

She holds up a hand, stopping me. "Max, please. Let's just focus on giving Amelia a nice afternoon, okay? We can... we can talk about the rest later."

I swallow hard, nodding. "You're right. I'll see you at the rink."

As Ellie gathers her things and leaves, I sink into my chair, my head in my hands. How did everything get so complicated? And how am I supposed to make it right?

The crisp winter air bites at my cheeks as I step onto the ice at Wollman Rink. Amelia's hand is warm in mine, her excitement palpable as she takes in the twinkling lights and the giant Christmas tree at the center of the rink.

"Daddy, look! It's so pretty!" she exclaims, her eyes wide with wonder.

I smile down at her, my heart swelling with love. "It sure is, sweetpea. Are you ready to show off your skating skills?"

Amelia nods enthusiastically, and we start to glide across the ice. As we make our way around the rink, my eyes search for Ellie. I spot her near the entrance, lacing up her skates. She looks up, catching my gaze, and offers a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

As Ellie joins us on the ice, memories flood my mind unbidden. Laura and I used to come here every winter, twirling and laughing as we skated hand in hand. The last time we were here, Laura was pregnant with Amelia. We'd talked about bringing our daughter here someday, teaching her to skate just like my father had taught me.

The weight of those memories presses down on me, making it hard to breathe. I'm so lost in thought that I barely notice when Amelia lets go of my hand, skating ahead to join Ellie.

"Max?" Ellie's voice breaks through my reverie. "Are you okay?"

I blink, focusing on her concerned face. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... remembering."

Understanding flashes in Ellie's eyes, followed quickly by a flicker of hurt. She nods, turning her attention back to Amelia. "Hey, sweetie, want to see if we can catch up to your dad?"

Amelia giggles, reaching for Ellie's hand. "Yeah! Let's race him!"

As they skate ahead, I watch them together. Ellie's patient guidance, the way she laughs at Amelia's jokes, the gentle way she steadies my daughter when she wobbles... it's everything I've ever wanted for Amelia. Everything I once dreamed of having with Ellie.

But the guilt crashes over me in waves. How can I be thinking about a future with Ellie when Laura's been gone for such a short time? How can I even consider replacing her as Amelia's mother?

I push off, skating to catch up with them. As I draw near, Amelia calls out, "Daddy! Watch this!" She attempts a small twirl, wobbling slightly but managing to stay upright.

"Great job, sweetpea!" I call out, grinning despite the turmoil in my heart.

Ellie claps, her face lit up with pride. "That was amazing, Amelia! You're a natural."

For a moment, as Amelia beams at us both, I allow myself to imagine that we're a real family. That Ellie is my wife, Amelia's mother, and we're just enjoying a perfect winter afternoon together. The longing I feel is so intense it's almost painful.

But then reality crashes back in. Ellie's smile fades as she meets my eyes, and I can see the walls she's built to protect herself. Walls I put there with my own indecision and fear.

We continue skating, Amelia chattering away about school and her friends, oblivious to the tension between Ellie and me. Every time our hands brush as we help Amelia, every shared smile over her antics, it's like a jolt of electricity. I want so badly to pull Ellie close, to apologize for pushing her away, to tell her how I really feel. But the words won't come.

As the afternoon wears on, Amelia's enthusiasm doesn't wane. "Can we take a picture by the big tree?" she asks, pointing to the massive Christmas tree at the center of the rink.

"Of course," I say, grateful for the distraction. We make our way to the tree, and I pull out my phone.

"Wait!" Amelia says. "I want a picture with both of you. Please?"

I hesitate, glancing at Ellie. She nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Sure, sweetie. Let's ask someone to take it for us."

A kind-looking older woman agrees to take our photo. As we huddle together in front of the tree, Amelia between us, I feel Ellie stiffen slightly when my arm brushes against her back. But then Amelia says something funny, and we both laugh, the tension momentarily forgotten.

"Smile!" the woman calls, and for a brief, perfect moment, we're the family I've been dreaming of. Ellie's arm is around Amelia, her other hand resting lightly on my shoulder. Amelia's grinning from ear to ear, and I... I feel whole for the first time in years.

The camera clicks, capturing the moment. As we skate away, thanking the woman, I can't shake the feeling that something has shifted. The longing I've been trying to suppress is now a living, breathing thing, impossible to ignore.

We make our way off the ice, Amelia complaining of cold toes. "How about some hot chocolate to warm up?" I suggest, and she nods eagerly.

As we sit at a small table near the rink, sipping our hot chocolate, I watch Ellie with Amelia. They're deep in conversation, Ellie listening intently as Amelia describes her plans for a snowman-building competition with her friends.

The sight of them together, so natural and right, makes my heart ache. I love Ellie. I can't deny it anymore, not to myself. But the guilt... God, the guilt is overwhelming. Every time I think about moving forward with Ellie, I see Laura's face. I hear her voice, reminding me of the promises we made, the life we planned together.

How can I honor Laura's memory while also allowing myself to love again? How can I give Amelia the family she deserves without feeling like I'm betraying her mother?

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I barely notice when Amelia excuses herself to use the restroom. It's only when Ellie speaks that I snap back to the present.

"Max," she says softly, her eyes searching mine. "What's going on with you?"

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. "I... I don't know how to do this, Ellie."

"Do what?" she asks, though I can see in her eyes that she already knows.

"Move forward," I admit, the words feeling like they're being torn from my chest. "I want to. God, I want to so badly. But every time I think about it, about us, I feel like I'm betraying Laura. Like I'm forgetting her."

Ellie reaches across the table, her hand hovering over mine for a moment before she pulls back. "Max, loving someone new doesn't mean you're betraying Laura. It doesn't erase what you had with her."

I nod, unable to meet her eyes. "I know that. Logically, I know that. But..." I trail off, unsure how to express the turmoil inside me.

"But your heart hasn't caught up yet," Ellie finishes for me, her voice gentle.

I look up at her then, seeing the understanding in her eyes, but also the hurt. The fear. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I never meant to drag you into this mess. To hurt you."

Ellie's smile is sad, resigned. "I know, Max. But I can't keep waiting for you to figure it out. It's not fair to me, and it's not fair to Amelia."

Her words hit me like a physical blow. I open my mouth to respond, but Amelia chooses that moment to return, her cheeks flushed from the cold.

"Can we go on the ice one more time?" she asks, oblivious to the tension between us.

Ellie stands, forcing a bright smile. "Of course, sweetie. Let's go show your dad how it's done."

As they head back to the rink, I remain seated, watching them go. The realization hits me with startling clarity: I'm losing her. I'm losing Ellie, and it's entirely my fault.

I stand, my legs feeling unsteady beneath me. As I make my way back to the rink, I see Ellie and Amelia laughing together, their breaths visible in the cold air. The sight is beautiful, perfect... and it's slipping through my fingers.

I step onto the ice, my heart heavy. I have to make a decision. I have to find a way to reconcile my past with my present, my love for Laura with my growing feelings for Ellie. Because if I don't, I'll lose this chance at happiness. I'll lose the family I never knew I wanted.

As we leave the rink, the night air crisp and biting, I catch Ellie's eye. There's a sadness there, a resignation that breaks my heart. She's pulling away, protecting herself from the pain I've caused her.

I want to reach out, to tell her to wait, to give me time to sort through this mess in my head and my heart. But the words don't come. Instead, I watch as she says goodbye to Amelia, her smile warm but her eyes guarded.

As Ellie turns to leave, I'm struck by the feeling that this is a turning point. That if I don't do something soon, I'll lose her forever. But the weight of my past, of my guilt, holds me in place.

I stand, Amelia's hand in mine, watching Ellie walk away. The distance between us grows, both physically and emotionally, and I'm left wondering if I'll ever find the courage to bridge that gap before it's too late.