A Wright Christmas

Of all the excuses he could give, that wasn’t the one I’d been anticipating.

And I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Cookies?”

“Yes, Miss Peyton!” Aly cheered. “We were supposed to make cookies. And then Daddy said that you came here instead. But I still wanted to make cookies.”

I looked between them in awe. Of course they hadn’t come here just to make cookies. No matter how excited Aly seemed by the prospect. I could tell what they’d really come for, just from the look in Isaac’s eyes. They’d come for me.

Wasn’t that what I’d been moping around about for the last week anyway? I’d wanted to see them. I definitely hadn’t wanted to leave them. I just didn’t know what Isaac thought was going to happen by showing up.

“Well then, we’ll have to make cookies, won’t we?” I said to Aly.

She beamed. “Yes!”

“How long are you staying?”

“A little up in the air,” he admitted. “I wanted to talk to you first. I couldn’t just let you walk away without fighting for you, Peyton.”

A chill ran up my back at the statement. I hadn’t thought it was possible for this to work. And yet here he stood, proving me wrong, proving that he wasn’t just going to let me go.

“You think fighting will fix this?” I asked curiously.

“That’s why I’m here.”

And he looked so damn confident, standing there in a suit with his black winter jacket, his hair gelled to perfection, and those green eyes reminding me of just why I’d fallen in love with him. Not to mention, the overeager five-year-old at his side, who wanted nothing more than to spend time with me.

He’d flown all the way here. I might as well give him a chance to explain.

“Okay,” I huffed. “Where are you staying?”

He winced and ran his hand back through his hair. “Well, we came in last night and got a hotel for a night in the city. We left our luggage there after we checked out. Since we weren’t sure if we were going to be staying, I didn’t want to get another night. It’s New Year’s, you know?”

“So…everything is a million dollars?”

“Basically.”

“Always practical,” I told him with another laugh. “Come on. Y’all can stay at my place. It’s not much, but it’s free.”

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. He turned to Aly. “What do you think, Aly Cat? Should we go see Peyton’s apartment?”

“Yes! And then cookies!” Aly cheered.

Her enthusiasm was contagious. I should have felt off about him coming all the way here after I’d dumped him, but all I felt was…relieved. Maybe I’d been hasty about the whole situation. I’d just reacted, knowing that two thousand miles was an impossible distance and dance took over my life. I could barely have a relationship with someone here in the city, who danced with me, who I saw all the time.

But after seeing Serge again, maybe it had been our relationship and not all relationships. He was selfish and self-centered, and everything had revolved around his wants and needs. With Isaac, things weren’t like that. We were equals. Plus, he’d flown all the way out here at the last minute to prove me wrong.

It had to be worth pursuing.* * *Their hotel was within walking distance from Lincoln Center, and after they packed up their bags again, we checked out of the hotel and took a cab south.

My apartment wasn’t too far away, but the drive felt interminably long with the impending New Year’s traffic coming into the city. Aly gawked at the tall buildings and pointed out every little thing that she found interesting. It was brilliant to see it through her eyes for the first time.

Isaac insisted on paying for the cab, and then we were all on the sidewalk, looking around at the same dirty streets and iron gate over my building that I’d glared at a week ago when I got home.

“You live here?” Aly asked in confusion.

“Yep. Up there actually,” I said, pointing vaguely toward the seventh floor.

“But where’s your yard?”

I chuckled and opened the gate. “I don’t have a yard. Just an apartment.”

“Okay, but I want a dog. Dogs need a yard.”

My eyes met Isaac’s, and I could see he was trying to hold back his laughter.

“You’re right, Aly. Dogs do need yards, but some people have dogs here in New York, and they walk them to the park.”

She nodded and said, “Ohh!” as if that made perfect sense.

We climbed the six flights of stairs up to my apartment, and I let them inside.

“I know it’s not much,” I began.

But Isaac just waved me off. “I like it. It suits you.”

I looked around the one-bedroom from his perspective. It did suit me. Everything was soft whites and blues with elaborate throw rugs and exposed brick. I loved my tiny apartment even if it had felt less like home this time than any time before it.