Callie's POV

The movie continued to play, but I wasn't watching it anymore.

Snow fell softly on my laptop screen, the characters wrapped in scarves and happy endings, cups of cocoa held between smiling hands. 

I'd seen The Holiday more times than I could count. I knew every line. Every predictable beat. That was why I'd chosen it. It required nothing from me.

And yet my chest felt tight.

My knees were pulled up against my chest on the bed, laptop balanced carelessly on my thighs. I'd been staring at the screen for minutes without blinking, my mind drifting back to the storage room. To the way Dominic had leaned in. To the way my body had betrayed me so easily.

God, I'd closed my eyes.

The realization still made heat creep up my neck in a slow, humiliating burn.

I hugged my arms tighter around myself, trying to shake the feeling. Trying to convince myself it hadn't meant anything. That I'd imagined the tension between us. That the look in his eyes hadn't been real.

But my body hadn't imagined it. I had seen it with my own eyes. Dropping my laptop, I let my head fall back against the pillow.

"What are you doing to yourself?" I whispered.

I stared at the ceiling, replaying the moment again and again until it felt distorted, like a memory worn thin from overuse.

Eventually, exhaustion won. I didn't remember falling asleep. Only the heaviness pulled me under.

I woke to a dull ache in my lower stomach that was insistent and grounding. The room was dark now, curtains barely glowing with the faint spill of streetlight outside. 

My laptop sat abandoned beside me, the movie long finished. I checked the time on my phone. It was not too late.

I slipped out of bed quietly, tugging my hoodie tighter around myself. The hallway was dim as I padded toward the kitchen, my bare feet cool against the floor.

Halfway down the stairs, I heard a soft, breathy sound. It was a muffled moan that barely passed through the door. 

At first, I frowned. 

Jenna, I thought absently. 

Then I felt heat crawl up my cheeks at the assumption. Of course, she'd have someone over. I almost laughed under my breath, shaking my head at myself for being startled. 

I continued down a few steps, then stopped. The sound didn't come from her room. I knew the house too well. 

The sound came again, this time lower, but steady.

Realisation hit me immediately, sharp and painful, my chest tightening. The sound was coming from the opposite end of the corridor. From Dominic's room. 

And my heart stuttered. I didn't breathe. I didn't move. I just stood there, frozen, as reality sank in. So this is what that was.

I felt stupid, small and naive for ever thinking... I swallowed hard and forced myself to keep walking. 

The kitchen light was too bright when I flicked it on. I grabbed a plate, with my hands shaking as I pulled leftovers from the fridge.

The sound still echoed in my head. I took one bite and nearly gagged.

"Couldn't sleep either?"

I jumped, spinning around too fast. I saw Jenna standing in the doorway, yawning, her hair pulled into a messy bun.

"Oh..." I swallowed. "Yeah. I was just... hungry."

She wandered in, opened a cupboard and pulled out a snack.

"Same."

I nodded, focusing on pouring myself a glass of water. My hands shook slightly. And I hoped she didn't notice it.

She leaned against the counter, glancing toward the hallway. "She's loud, huh?"

The word hit me like a slap. "She?"

"My dad's girlfriend," Jenna said casually, popping a piece of chocolate into her mouth. 

"Mara. She's been staying over more lately."

Girlfriend.

I kept my eyes on the water as it filled the glass. "How long...?"

Jenna shrugged. "A year? Maybe two. I don't know. They're not exactly the PDA type, but when she's in a mood..." She grimaced. 

"Soundproofing would be nice."

At that moment something sharp twisted inside me.  It felt humiliating. I nodded, stilling my expression like the information didn't matter to me.

"Oh," I said. "I didn't know."

"Yeah. She's... intense." Jenna stopped and studied my face for a moment. "You okay?"

"Fine," I lied, too quickly. I took a sip of water that did nothing to soothe the dryness in my throat. "Just tired."

"Same." Jenna grabbed a plate, piling food onto it. "You should eat."

I forced myself to dish out some food, though my appetite had vanished completely. I took a few bites, but each one was tasteless. My stomach turned with every muffled sound that drifted faintly from upstairs.

After a minute, I set the fork down. "I think I'm going to head back to bed."

"You barely ate." Jenna stared at me, her face twisted in a light frown.

"I'll try again tomorrow."

She nodded, her face relaxing. "Night, Cal." She didn't push.

"Night, Enna," I replied quickly and hurried to my room. 

Back in my room, I crawled under the covers and stared at the ceiling. Sleep didn't come easily. When it did, it was shallow and restless, filled with fragmented images of his hands, his lips and his voice saying my name like a holy curse.

I woke up feeling worse. My eyes burned, my head throbbed, and my reflection in the mirror made my stomach sink. Shadows clung stubbornly beneath my eyes, and my skin was dull and tired.

I stared at myself for a long moment. Get it together.

I took my time with my skincare, like the routine itself might steady me. Moisturiser. Eye cream. 

A touch of concealer to hide what the night had taken. The makeup was light, just enough to look like I'd slept.

When I went downstairs, the house was quiet again.

I poured cereal into a bowl, Golden Morn, the familiar comfort of it almost making me smile, and then I sat at the dining table alone. The spoon clinked softly against the bowl. I focused on my laptop's screen. I'm watching another Christmas movie. 

I sensed him before I saw him. I felt a close presence behind me. Turning, Dominic stood there, dressed neatly in joggers and a sweatshirt. His expression was unreadable and colder than before. It felt more distant.

"Good morning," I said, automatically.

"Morning," he replied, his tone formal.

Silence stretched between us, awkward and fragile. I turned back to my bowl, suddenly hyper-aware of every movement.

Minutes later, footsteps echoed on the stairs. Then she appeared. Tall, composed, with her hair perfectly styled. Mara. She was beautiful in an effortless, polished way, at least ten years older than me, with confidence written into the way she carried herself.

Her eyes landed on me, sharp and assessing.

"You must be Callie," she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"Yes," I replied, still sitting. "Nice to meet you."

She glanced at Dominic, then back at me. "Likewise."

Dominic cleared his throat. "I have to step out for a run."

"I'll be here," Mara said lightly, kissing him on his lips.

His gaze flicked to me for half a second, too quick to read. Then he was gone. The front door closed after him.

"You're pretty." 

I heard Mara say immediately that the door closed. I looked at her. Mara's smile had faded. She looked at me fully now, head tilting slightly. 

"You're younger than I expected."

I stiffened, but didn't reply to her. Has she heard about me before now? 

"Mmm." She glanced around. "You seem... comfortable."

I still didn't respond. I knew what she was doing. 

Her eyes flicked to the laptop on the counter. "Accidents happen," she said. "Though it's interesting how often people trip over boundaries."

"I think I should go," I said calmly. She was in for trouble, but I wasn't.

She stepped closer. "Running away already?"

"I don't want any trouble."

She laughed softly. "Funny. You seem to have caused it and now you no longer want what you caused."

Her hand moved suddenly, shoving my laptop off the counter. It hit the floor with a sharp crack, the screen shattering completely.

Jenna's door opened upstairs. "What's going on...?"

Then I heard her hurried steps down the stairs. Jenna's eyes widened in shock, then anger when she saw my laptop on the floor. 

"What did you just do?" She asked Mara, her voice rising and her eyes flaring with anger. 

Mara, ignoring her, stepped closer to me and shoved me hard. I stumbled back, barely keeping my balance.

"Don't touch me," I said, my voice was loud but it trembled slightly.

She lifted her hand and I knew she wanted to slap me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jenna hurrying toward me. 

"Step away from her." A cold and controlled voice spoke in a flat tone. 

Everyone froze. I didn't need to turn. I already knew that voice.

Callie's POV

"Don't touch her."

The words didn't come loud. They didn't need to.

They cut through the room with frightening precision, sharp enough to still every movement like a blade pressed against skin.

Mara froze mid-motion, her hand still raised. Her fingers were curled as if she hadn't yet decided whether to strike or grab. 

Jenna stopped short beside me, breath hitching audibly. Even the house itself seemed to go quiet, like it was holding its breath.

I didn't turn. I didn't have to. I felt him behind me before I saw him. His presence wasn't loud or aggressive, it was firm and immovable. Like a wall had been placed between me and everything else.

"Dominic," Mara said, her voice shifting instantly. 

It became smoother and careful. "This isn't..."

"Step away from her."

Still calm. Still level. But I felt there was something underneath it now. Something cold.

Mara let out a small laugh that sounded forced, brittle. "You're overreacting. I was just..."

"You shoved her." He cut her words short.

His words landed heavier than hers had. They weren't an accusation. They were a statement.

I finally turned and I saw Dominic standing a few feet away. His posture was straight, and his shoulders squared. 

His gaze wasn't on me. It was locked on Mara with an unsettling intensity. His jaw was tight, his mouth set in a hard line. He looked... too controlled. The kind of restraint that came from effort, and not ease.

Mara scoffed. "She's fine."

"She will be," he said. "When you step back."

Something in his tone must have reached her, because her smile faded. 

Slowly and deliberately, she lowered her hand and took a step away from me. Her eyes flicked briefly to Jenna, then back to Dominic.

"This is unnecessary," she muttered.

Dominic didn't respond. Instead, his gaze shifted, briefly, and finally to me.

"Are you hurt?"

The question was direct.

I shook my head, though my hands were trembling. 

"No."

He nodded once. That was all. Then his attention returned to the room.

"Jenna," he said, without looking at her. "Go upstairs."

Jenna's head snapped up. "But dad..."

"Now."

His words weren't harsh. But it wasn't negotiable either.

She hesitated, glancing at me, clearly torn. I forced a small smile that felt wrong on my face. 

"I'm okay," I said to her, my tone was soft.

Her lips pressed together, but she nodded. "I'll be upstairs."

She shot Mara one last glare before turning and heading up the stairs, her footsteps quick and angry.

The moment the sound faded, the space felt too open and too exposed.

Dominic exhaled slowly. "Mara," he said. "We need to talk. Outside."

Mara crossed her arms. "I'm not the problem here."

His eyes hardened. "You crossed a line."

Her mouth opened, then closed. Whatever she saw on his face made her rethink whatever argument she'd planned.

"Fine," she snapped. "But don't pretend this isn't messy."

She brushed past him, deliberately close, her shoulder grazing his arm. But he didn't react. The door closed behind them, leaving the house in a strange, hollow silence.

I stood there alone. My legs felt weak, like they might fold beneath me at any second. I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt. Emotionally, like something fragile inside me had been dragged into the open without my consent.

He protected me. The thought came unbidden.

And right behind it, sharper, crueler: But he didn't choose me.

I didn't hear them arguing outside. Or maybe I did, but my mind refused to process it. I only became aware of the house again when the front door opened... and then closed.

A few minutes later, Dominic came back inside. He didn't look at me.

"I'll have a replacement sent for your laptop," he said, his voice measured. "I'm sorry about that."

"Oh," I replied faintly. "It's... it's fine."

He nodded, already turning away.

"Dominic." I called, my voice wavering.

He stopped and slowly, he turned back. His expression was unreadable now, the earlier edge smoothed away.

"I shouldn't have stayed," I said. The words tasted bitter. "I didn't mean to cause..."

"This isn't your fault," he interrupted.

The certainty in his voice surprised me. And it made my throat tighten.

"You should rest," he added, already stepping back. "If you need anything, let Jenna know."

And just like that, he walked away. Up the stairs. And away from me. I stood there long after he disappeared, staring at the empty space he'd left behind.

So that's it.

The afternoon passed more gently than I expected.

Jenna returned to the living room with exaggerated cheer, plopping down beside me on the couch like nothing had happened. Her legs tucked beneath me, a thick knitted blanket draped over both of us.

She put on a ridiculous Christmas movie, one of those overly bright, overly cheerful ones with predictable endings, and made commentary so loud and dramatic I couldn't help but laugh.

"You know," she said, kicking her feet up on the coffee table, "if I ever disappear mysteriously during the holidays, it's because one of these movies finally snapped me."

I smiled. "I'll tell the authorities where to look."

She grinned. "Good." Then we fell silent, still watching the movie.

After a while, Jenna snorted. "If a man ever shows up at my door in the snow with a speech like that, I'm calling the police."

I smiled, though my eyes stayed on the screen. "You wouldn't even let him finish."

"Absolutely not. Romance is fine, but dramatic monologues in bad weather are a red flag."

She nudged my knee with hers. "You okay, though? Like... really okay."

I hesitated just long enough for her to notice.

"I'm fine," I said, softer now. "Just tired."

She studied me for a second, then nodded. "Okay. But if you need to scream into a pillow later, I have extras."

"Thanks. That's very reassuring." I said, and a smile popped up on my face. 

My phone buzzed in my hand before I could say more.

'Mum.'

I glanced at the screen, then back at Jenna. "It's my mum."

"Take it," she said immediately. "Tell her I'm keeping you fed and alive."

I stood and moved toward the dining room, sinking into the chair near the window. Snow drifted lazily outside, coating the street in white.

"Hi, Mum."

"Oh, Callie," she said warmly. "There you are."

Her voice wrapped around me in a way nothing else had all day.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently. "Are you settling in?"

"Yes," I replied easily. Too easily. "I'm good. Jenna's been... Jenna."

I heard her laugh softly. "That girl hasn't changed a bit."

She asked about the trip. About the cold. About whether I was eating properly. About Jenna. About Christmas plans. I answered easily, smoothly, slipping into the version of myself that said all the right things.

"I am," I promised. "Jenna won't allow it otherwise."

"Good." Then, quieter, more careful: "And you? You're really okay?"

I looked down at my hands, twisting my fingers together.

"I am," I said again. "Really."

There was a pause. Then, faintly, I heard another voice in the background.

"Mum, is that Callie?"

My chest tightened instantly.

"Lena?" I breathed.

"Yes!" my mother laughed. "She's been asking for you."

"Switch it to video," Lena said urgently. "I want to see her."

My mother hesitated. "Callie, is that...?"

"Yes," I said quickly, cutting her off. "Please."

The screen shifted, the call reconnecting. Suddenly, my sister's face filled the screen.

Lena looked tired, but glowing. Her hair was pulled back messily, dark circles beneath her eyes, but she was smiling so brightly it made my throat ache.

"Hey," she said softly. "There you are."

"Hi," I whispered, emotion rising unexpectedly. "You look... incredible."

She laughed. "That's exhaustion and hormones talking."

The camera tilted slightly, and then...

"Oh my God." My breath caught.

A tiny bundle lay cradled against her chest with soft skin, and closed eyes. A shock of dark hair.

"Callie," Lena said proudly, "meet Noah."

Tears blurred my vision instantly.

"He's beautiful," I said, my voice breaking. "He's so perfect."

"I know," she replied, eyes shining. "He looks like Dad, apparently."

I laughed through the tears. "I haven't seen it yet."

"You will," Mum chimed in from behind the camera. "He has the same frown."

The screen shifted again as Lena adjusted Noah slightly, angling the camera so I could see his tiny fingers curling and uncurling.

"He's so small," I murmured.

"And heavy," Lena said dryly. "No one warns you about that part."

I heard movement behind me.

"Is that a baby?" Jenna gasped dramatically.

I turned, smiling. "Jenna, this is my nephew, Noah."

Jenna practically sprinted over, squeezing onto the chair bedside me. "Oh my God, he's gorgeous."

Lena laughed. "He really is. Thank you for housing my sister."

"The pleasure is mine," Jenna said proudly. "I demand visitation rights."

Mum chuckled. "You'll have to fight me for them."

They talked easily then, about names, sleepless nights, how Noah already had a stubborn streak. Jenna told a dramatic story about once babysitting a child who outwitted her at age four.

For a while, I just listened, watched, and felt. Warmth filled my chest. A soft, aching kind. 

This... this was what I'd been missing. Family. Continuity. Life moving forward even when mine felt stuck.

"I wish you were here," Lena said suddenly, her voice gentler now.

"So do I," I admitted.

"But we'll see you soon," Mum said firmly. "This is just for now."

I nodded, swallowing hard.

The call ended eventually, full of promises and blown kisses.

When the screen went dark, I sat there quietly.

Jenna leaned her head against mine. "You're going to be the best aunt."

I smiled, blinking away lingering tears. "I hope so."

And for a brief moment, just a brief one, I felt whole.

For the rest of the evening, Dominic never came downstairs. Not even once.

Evening crept in quietly. Jenna eventually headed out to meet Sam, promising she'd be back late. I waved her off with a smile that felt stretched thin.

I showered longer than necessary, letting the hot water wash over me until my skin tingled. When I stepped out, the mirror was fogged, my reflection was blurred and indistinct.

Good, I thought. I don't want to look too closely right now.

I pulled on a loose nightdress, towel-dried my hair halfway, and padded back to my room. Water dripped steadily from the ends of my hair, darkening the tiles beneath my feet.

I was halfway through brushing it when a knock sounded at the door.

"Yeah?" I called, distracted.

The knock came again.

Jenna, I assumed. She never waited.

I dropped the brush and crossed the room, tugging the towel loosely around my shoulders as I opened the door.

And I froze. Dominic stood there.

His gaze dropped instinctively, then snapped away just as quickly. He cleared his throat, shifting his weight.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't realise you were..."

"It's fine," I blurted. "I thought you were Jenna."

Silence stretched between us. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes fixed somewhere over my shoulder.

"I wanted to apologise," he said finally. "For... earlier."

My heart skipped.

"Oh," I said. "You don't have to."

"I do."

He hesitated, then continued. "Mara's behaviour was unacceptable. It won't happen again."

I nodded. "Okay. It's fine, I wasn't hurt."

"And," he added, his voice was quieter now, "about last night. The storage room. That shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have kissed you."

My mouth opened before my brain caught up.

"It was good..." 

I stopped. I felt heat creep to my face. 

"I mean, it was just... the weather. Or the cold. Or..."

I laughed weakly, but the sound died quickly. But his jaw tightened.

"I didn't mean..." I tried again, stuttering. "It's not something I'm thinking about. It was just a kiss."

A lie, my mind whispered.

"Just... not a bad one," I added automatically.

Silence.

Oh no.

I clamped my mouth shut, mortified. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong."

He looked at me then. For a long while. And I noticed something shifted behind his eyes.

"This can't happen," he said quietly.

"I know," I replied too fast. "I wasn't suggesting.."

"You need to be careful," he continued, voice gentle but firm. "This isn't something you should be encouraging."

Encouraging. I repeated in my head, the word stinging me in my chest.

"I wasn't," I whispered.

He nodded, though I wasn't sure he believed me. "I should go."

He stepped back. Relief and disappointment tangled painfully in my chest.

"Goodnight, Callie."

"Goodnight."

I turned to close the door, my foot sliding...

"Ah." A soft gasp escaped my lips.

The floor vanished beneath me. And cold rushed up my spine as I lost my balance, my thoughts scattering wildly.

I bruise easily.

This is going to hurt.

And then... I fell.