A Wright Christmas

My mouth went dry. Tonight. They wanted me to fly out tonight? But what about Isaac’s game and the after-party and the Christmas Eve performance? Crap, what was I going to do?

The ballet was my job. It was my dream job at that. It was all I had ever wanted growing up. And now, I had it, and I’d thought that I’d be able to have everything else I’d ever wanted, too. A life. A family. But…that just wasn’t possible.

My career and life were back in New York. They weren’t here in Lubbock. This was who I had been, and it had been nice for a few weeks to think that everything could work out…go back to how they had been. But I’d just been deluding myself. There was no way this could all work out.

I wasn’t even going to get to have Christmas here with my family. That was how it was…how it would always be.

As much as I wanted it to work with Isaac, neither of us knew how it would happen. We’d been avoiding it more than we’d really discussed it. We’d “figure it out.” But what was there to figure out?

I was going back to New York. He was staying here with Aly. That was the truth. The unavoidable truth.

“Sure,” I finally said. “Yes, I can be there. I have to move some things around, but I can make it.”

“Thank God! You’re a lifesaver. I don’t know what we’d do without you,” Annabelle gushed. “Okay, I’m going to buy your ticket right this second. First class from Lubbock to New York City with a layover in Dallas. It looks like the latest flight is nine fifteen tonight. Think you can make that if you hurry?”

“Yeah. Lubbock is small. I only have to be there forty-five minutes early.”

“Ah, the joys of small towns,” Annabelle said. “I already have your frequent flyer number. This should be in your inbox in a few minutes. Thanks so much for this, Peyton.”

“Of course. It’s my job.”

“There’s a ten o’clock rehearsal to make sure that we have you all set to perform. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“No. That’s all, Annabelle. Thanks.”

“You’re the best, Peyton. See you tomorrow.”

I hung up and then rested my head on the steering wheel. I was leaving. I was flying back to New York tonight, a full five days early. No Christmas with my family. No Christmas with Isaac and Aly.

I wanted to cry, but somehow, I couldn’t even manage that. A part of me had known this was coming all along. Now, I just had to find a way to tell Isaac.23Isaac“Aly, please don’t make me say it one more time. If you want to go to Daddy’s soccer game, you have to put your shoes on.”

“Fine,” she groaned and stomped back to her room.

My mom stood by with an amused look on her face. “You hated shoes, too.”

“I’m sure this is cosmic torture for how I was as a kid.”

She laughed and patted my cheek. “You’re doing just fine.”

“Thanks,” I said with a sigh. “You sure you still want to go to the game? Sutton and Jennifer said they’d watch her. Plus, Peyton will be there.”

“Bah,” she said, waving me off. “I’ll be there for you. As if I ever get tired of watching you do what you love.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, kissing her cheek.

The doorbell rang in that moment, and I raised my eyebrows.

“Wonder who that is.”

“I’ll go check on Aly and her shoes,” my mom said, walking toward Aly’s room as I headed for the door.

I pulled it open and was surprised to find Peyton standing in the doorway. A smile split my face, and I wrapped my arms around her. “This is a pleasant surprise. I thought we were meeting at the soccer complex.”

She frowned, backed out of the embrace, and looked down at her feet. “Isaac…”

She was in fitted black leggings, a tank top, and a cardigan. Her heavy peacoat thrown over top. Her hair was still in her tight ballet bun. She usually let it down right when she got home. But then I looked past her and saw…Piper’s blue Jeep. With Piper idling in the driver’s seat.

“What’s going on?”

“Isaac, I…I don’t think this is going to work.”

My fingers clenched the door. “What do you mean? What isn’t going to work?”

She gestured between us, swallowing hard as she met my eyes. There was torment in her irises. She didn’t want this.

“Why?” I gasped out. “Why are you saying this?”

“I got a call from New York. They need me to come home tonight. Their Sugar Plum Fairy had emergency appendix surgery, and no one else can come in to perform.”

“So…you’re going to go back to New York? There’s literally no one else?”

“No one with enough experience. Not for what the tickets cost,” she said softly.