“Yes. And you must be Mrs. Carter. Abby looks a lot like you.”
“Yes, she does. And like me, she trusts too easily.”
He cocked his head. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
“She’s waiting for you upstairs. I suggest you be honest with her.”
“I’ve never been otherwise.”
She eyed him considering. “You don’t strike me as a fool. And you don’t seem like a user. But I don’t know you.”
A sudden weight settled in his stomach. “Is there something I should know? Did something happen to Abby?” Scenarios ran through his mind, but he latched onto her earlier comment that she was upstairs waiting for him.
“I’ll let her explain it to you.” She stepped back. “It’s the first door on the right.”
He didn’t wait a moment longer, moving up the stairs with the single thought of reaching her.
“Abby?” He knocked on the door before opening it. Her hair was pulled over her shoulder, offering him a view of her slim neck, the sweet curve of her shoulders, as she stared out of the window. His heart ached at the sight, his love still so new, so deep.
“Please close the door.”
His brows lowered in confusion. He had never heard her use that tone. So detached, so numb. “Is everything all right?” He moved forward cautiously, smart enough to know not to touch her.
She turned slowly, her swollen eyes locking onto his.
“What happened?” He moved forward, needing to take her into his arms, needing to offer her comfort. She held up her hand, stopping his progress. “What’s going on?”
“I’m going to ask you a question. And I expect an honest answer from you.”
“All right.”
She reached for something and then held it in front of her. “Did you find this?”
His gut clenched as he looked from the bottle he had found in the ocean, into her eyes. “It looks like the one I pulled out of the ocean several weeks ago, but I can’t be certain.”
Her gazed raked painfully over him. “How could you do that to me? How could you use me like that? Have you no conscience at all?”
“Abby, listen—”
“No. You found my letter.” It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway. “You found it, but didn’t tell me. I bet you got a good laugh from it.”
“No. Never.”
“Here’s some desperate girl asking Santa for a boyfriend. Wow, you must think I’m pathetic.”
“Absolutely not.” Her eyes were dead as she stared at him. A fresh rush of panic rushed through him. “I never thought you were desperate. I never laughed at you. Your letter intrigued me, and I wanted to meet you.”
“The bar? You knew I’d be there?”
“Yes.”
She laughed bitterly. “Well, I guess being a private investigator has its advantages.”
“Abby, after meeting you, I wanted to get to know you. I wanted to be with you. It had nothing to do with the letter after that.”
“Oh, so you’re saying you just forgot about it?”
“Yes.”
She spun away from him. “It’s not possible!”
“It’s the truth.”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore.” Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what to think, or what to feel.”
He reached forward, gripping her shoulders, willing her to look at him. “Just let me be with you.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
When she looked up, fresh tears in her eyes, he felt like a sword had sliced him open. “Abby, don’t. Don’t cry. I can’t bear it.” His voice was hoarse as he moved to wipe her tears.
“I love you. But I can’t trust you.”
Her declaration surged through him, lighting fires throughout his body. “You can. I’ve never lied to you.”
“Not telling me was a lie.”
Panic began to choke him. He felt her moving away from him, and he somehow knew that there was no way he could bring her back. “Please, Abby. I need you.”
“I can’t do this. You need to leave.” She backed away from him, her arms wrapped around her waist as if she were trying to hold herself together. “I can’t take this anymore.”
“Let me—”
“Please. Just go.”
The hand he had held out for her dropped. She wanted him gone, out of her life. “Tell me one thing. How did you get that bottle?” The question was out of his mouth, but he already knew. There was only one other person who had access to it. Charisse. He hadn’t given her enough credit. This one act was enough to destroy him.
“I don’t know. It was sent anonymously.”
His heart clenching as they looked at each other, both wondering where this left them. “I’ll leave now because you asked me to. But this isn’t over.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
With a last look, he left, moving numbly to his car. The hollowness followed him, mocking him with every step he took.
He loved her. Loved her with all his being. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t let it.
He hadn’t meant to hurt her. Hadn’t realized how important this would be to her. He wanted to curse himself for not realizing, for not thinking it significant enough to tell her.
He could have prevented this.
But it wasn’t over. She could have tonight. But he would make her forgive him tomorrow.
It had all seemed so easy in his mind, but after three days of not being able to reach her, he knew he was losing her.
The panic that he had felt after she reject his calls the day after, not answering his messages sent him into a frenzy.
The second day, when he had gone her apartment and she wouldn’t speak with him, he felt an icy fear settle over his heart.
He had tried flowers the next day, only to find out that she had rejected them.
He didn’t know what to do short of marching back to her apartment, standing outside and yelling that he wouldn’t leave until she spoke with him. But he knew that wouldn’t work either.
As the sun set on Christmas Eve, Dylan looked out of his living room windows, his hair disheveled, his face sporting three days’ worth of growth, felt the despair, the hollowness of loss.
The spitefulness of one woman had destroyed the most precious thing in his life. And his thoughtlessness had helped.
Abby loved him. Her words brought an ache when he remembered her saying them. He had wanted to tell her that he loved her too. That he always would. But he had known even then that it wouldn’t matter. She wouldn’t have believed him.
If he had told her about her letter earlier, would this have happened? Or would they have laughed about it, moving forward in their relationship? What-if’s crammed his mind, but they didn’t bring peace. Only torment.
He would never know.
Pounding his fist against the thick glass, he cursed fate.
He had finally found the person he couldn’t live without, the person he would always love. He finally saw a bright light in his life. And he yearned for it. For her. But he was empty, bereft now that he knew what he was missing.
What could he do? If she wouldn’t speak to him, how could he make this right? How could he win her back?
Glancing at his desk, he picked up the sparkling engagement ring he had purchased the day after they had returned from New York. The single diamond, nestled among smaller stones, fired in the low lights, taunting him with lost dreams.
He had been presumptuous in purchasing it, but he hadn’t cared. Nothing had ever felt more right than thinking about marrying Abby. And now she was lost.
All because of one bottle, one letter to Santa, and one jealous ex-girlfriend. Something so small, having such a great impact on his life, seemed ridiculous.
But wasn’t that what Christmas was about? Miracles, small wishes, family and friends. Abby had wished for love, and whether or not she believed it, she had found it.
He loved her with a depth and passion
that he had never felt before. Her Christmas wish had been granted.
Could one of his own?
He didn’t have anything else to lose at this point; his heart couldn’t feel more bruised than it did now.
With Christmas only a few hours away, madness overwhelmed him. He dug out a piece of paper, writing his own letter to Santa, pouring his heart out and his own wish until he felt purged, exhausted from his feelings. Without an empty bottle, he grabbed a bottle of wine, uncaring which vintage it was as he dumped out the contents, washing and drying it before placing his own letter inside.
Finished, he crawled into bed, praying for sleep. At dawn, he’d go out and toss his wish in to the ocean, hoping that someone, or something, would hear his wish and grant it.
Tossing and turning from her troubled heart, Abby hadn’t slept well. Dylan had tried to reach her for three days, and she had turned him away, unable to face him.
She’d taken the time to reflect over what had happened over the last month. To think about the letter she had written, of what had developed because of it.
In her car, she hugged the curves of the canyon that led to the beach. That led to Tower 1 where it all began.
She had been angry when she had learned that Dylan had found the letter, thinking he had used it to make a fool out of her. But as the days had passed, she realized that no matter what Dylan had done, no matter what his intentions had been, her wish had been granted.
She pulled into the deserted lot, parking in the first spot closest to the tower. Getting out of her car, she walked toward the structure, the late-December sand cold beneath her shoes.
Her wish, so desperately thrown into the water, had been granted. She had found someone she could love, had found someone to share the holidays with.
Someone she could spend the rest of her life with.
He hadn’t loved her, but that didn’t matter now. What mattered was that she had loved. That she had grown, had experienced a love so blinding, so deep, that she was changed.
They may not have ended up together, but she would forever be grateful to him.
Maybe that’s what she should say to him. Thank him for everything. But it seemed trivial. Perhaps it was better that she not see him again. To break cleanly from it all.
She was like this beach. Overcast, empty. But people would eventually come, filling up the lots, parking their coolers, towels, and umbrellas on the sand, running headlong in the water. This feeling of starkness, of loneliness, would pass. Others would come into her life, and while she may never feel this aching love for another, she was grateful that she had had it once.
Looking out to the water, wondering what her life would be like, how she would go on after loving someone so deeply and not having that love returned, she didn’t hear the car that pulled into the lot, nor see the man that stepped out, faltering in his movements when he saw her leaning against the tower.
“Abby.” Her name was a whisper on the breeze. She closed her eyes, her heart clenching at Dylan’s voice. He was here. Had come to the beach where she had launched her dreams.
“Hello, Dylan,” she said, trying to give him a friendly smile as she turned to face him. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“No. I imagine you didn’t.” She looked at his windswept face, memorizing each feature, sealing them away in her mind. He looked tired, just as she felt. Perhaps this last meeting, where they could part as friends, was for the best. “I’m glad you’re here though.”
“You are?” His eyes moved to hers.
“Yes. I’m sorry that I haven’t returned your calls. I needed time.”
He stepped forward. “Abby, I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know that.” She saw a flash of disbelief in his eyes and wanted to soothe him. “Honestly, I know that you never meant to. I’ve known you for awhile now. I don’t think you would purposely cause me pain.”
“I wouldn’t. I’ve missed you so much over the last few days. It’s been killing me.”
“Me too.” She turned away, searching the ocean for answers. “But it isn’t enough.”
“What isn’t?”
“Don’t you see? It will never be the same now.”
He nodded slowly. “No it won’t. I don’t want it to be.”
She gulped, trying to fight back the pain after hearing him end it. She turned back to him, a wobbly smile on her face. “I understand. I hope we can part as friends.”
“Friends?” He looked confused.
Her gut clenched. She couldn’t stand the thought of them meaning nothing to each other. “Yes. At least I hope so. Don’t you?”
“Of course we’re friends.” Her body sighed in relief. “But I want to be more than that.”
She didn’t think it was possible, but her heart broke a little more. How could they build anything on such a flawed foundation? They were friends, but there were lies between them, secrets that made trust difficult. “I don’t know if I can.”
“And I can’t let you go.”
She took a deep, bracing breath of salt air. Nothing could be resolved now. It would take time to sort through it all. She began to tell him so, only her eyes narrowed on what he was holding.
Another bottle?
“Why do you have that?”
He looked down at it, slowly lifting it between them. “I was going to throw it into the ocean.” He waited until her eyes met his. “Someone else threw a bottle into the ocean a while ago, with a letter to Santa. If her wish was granted, I wondered, even on Christmas Day, if my own could be as well.”
Her mouth opened and closed, but she couldn’t find the words. He was making his own wish? Tossing it into the water?
“Would you like to read it?” He held the bottle out in offering.
She gripped the cool glass, spying a rolled up piece of paper in the dark depths. Her pulse raced as she pulled it out.
Reading his words, she gasped.
Dear Santa,
I’m in love with a woman who is more amazing and kind than anyone I’ve ever met. She wished to find a love, true and lasting, for Christmas this year, and I found her wish. I love her with all of my heart, but I’ve also hurt her.
I’ve lost her. And it is tearing me up to know that I’m the cause of her pain. If Abby can find a man to love, as she has said she loves me, and I can return that love with all the passion and tenderness that I possess, then why couldn’t this letter find its way to her as well?
I wish for Abby. I wish to have her in my life forever. As my wife. I want to marry her and have children with her. I want to wake up every day and see her smiling at me, laughing together as our children race around us.
Please, Santa, grant me this one wish.
Sincerely,
Dylan
(Although I can’t promise as fervently as Abby that I’ve been good this year, I can promise that if my wish is granted, I’ll be extra good next year.)
A laugh escaped her lips as a tear slid down her cheek. She looked up at him with wonder in her eyes. “Is this true?”
“Every word.” With anguish and hope in his eyes, he searched hers. “I love you so much, Abby. I wanted to tell you at the Christmas party but everything got screwed up. After meeting you, I honestly forgot about the letter. I never meant to hurt you, never meant to make you feel humiliated. You mean everything to me.”
More tears tracked down her cheeks as her heart soared. Launching herself into his arms, she wrapped around him tightly. “I love you so much, Dylan. Thinking this was all some elaborate hoax on your part, I was crushed. The note that came with my letter said you tracked me down only to amuse yourself. I couldn’t bear the thought of it.”
He swore softly before gently taking her face in his hands. “That letter was a lie. Charisse sent it to hurt me.”
“Charisse? Your old girlfriend?”
“Yes. She came over to confront me and I told her that we ha
d been over for some time. She was upset and I told her to take whatever belongings she had left there and leave. She must have found the bottle, realized that that was how I found you.” She felt him willing her to believe him. “But I swear, none of it was true.”
“I believe you.” Her hands streaked into his hair. “I believe you,” she said again before bringing his lips softly to her. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He shakily let out a breath. “More that you’ll ever know. The time that I’ve spent with you means everything to me. You mean everything to me.” He grinned suddenly. “I guess Santa is real. Both of our wishes came true.”
“Not all of them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Wasn’t there more to your letter than just having me love you in return?” She felt the first true smile light her face as realization slowly dawned on his.
“Do you want to?” His jaw was slack.
“Do I want to what?” There was a twinkle in her eye.
“Will you marry me, Abby?”
She pretended to think it over before laughing again, holding him tightly against her. “Yes. Absolutely, yes.”
He picked her up, crushing her body against his as he captured her mouth. “You won’t regret it,” he said between kisses. “And I won’t let you get out of it either. You’re stuck now.”
“And so are you. So don’t be getting any ideas.”
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted. All I’ll ever need.”
“Just keep loving me.”
He kissed her softly, sealing the promise.
“I hate to cut this short,” she said, leaning back after their kiss. “But my family will be expecting me.” She wanted to smile when disappointment flashed to his face.
“You’re right.”
She began to walk toward her car before turning back to him. “Aren’t you coming?”
“You want me to come with you to your parents’ house?”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t spend the holiday with anyone else.”
Linking hands, they walked toward their future, both knowing that although this was the first of many Christmases together, none would ever be as sweet.
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