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“I’ll react later. Right now, I’m more concerned about the sheet of ice under my tires.”

Molly was quiet for half a second before relenting. “Fine, I’ll bug you about it later. Just get home in one piece.”

“Good plan.” Ruth’s voice was dry, but she appreciated the shift. “Talk later.”

She ended the call before Molly could sneak in another tease, refocusing on the drive.Molly and her timing.

When she pulled into the parking lot of her condominium complex, the snow was coming down in thick, heavy flakes. She made her way to her assigned driveway. She gathered her bag and the gifts she’d brought back from her mom’s house, then trudged inside.

Ruth’s condominium was small but cozy, a reflection of her understated taste. The open-concept living area was painted in soft, neutral tones, with a plush gray couch and a well-loved armchair flanking a modest coffee table. A built-in bookcase lined one wall, filled with everything from legal textbooks to dog-eared romance novels.

In the corner of the room stood a small artificial Christmas tree. She set her bags down by the door and took a moment to breathe, letting the familiar warmth of her home wrap around her like a comforting hug.

Ruth moved to the tree, plugging in the lights. The room was immediately bathed in a warm glow that softened the harsh edges of her thoughts. She knelt down and rummaged through her bag until she found what she was looking for: a cocoa bomb, a thoughtful gift from Ethan’s sister.

She filled a mug with steaming milk, dropped the chocolate sphere inside, and watched as it melted, releasing tiny marshmallows and a swirl of rich cocoa. The sweet aroma filled the air, bringing a small smile to her lips.

Cupping the mug in her hands, she curled up in her favorite armchair, tucking her legs beneath her. She reached for one of her favorite romance novels from the shelf, the worn spine and dog-eared pages a testament to how many times she’d read it. As the snow continued to fall outside, she let herself sink into the familiar story, her mind drifting back to Noah.

She tried to focus on the book, but her thoughts kept circling back to him. The way he smiled and laughed during dinner; the way he shrugged on his coat, his arms strong and steady; the kiss goodnight to her cheek, which made her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time: safe. His sharp green eyes seemed to pierce through her, leaving her feeling both vulnerable and understood when she spoke.

What would it be like to truly let someone like Noah in? To lower her walls and let him see the parts of her she kept hidden—even from herself?

She sipped her cocoa, the warmth spreading through her chest as she imagined a different version of herself. A braver, more confident version who wouldn’t be afraid to take a chance.

But that wasn’t her. Not yet, anyway.

For now, all she could do was hope the storm outside would pass, and with it, the storm inside her.

Six

The state’s attorney’s office was uncharacteristically quiet this morning. With the holiday lull, the usual cacophony of ringing phones and bustling assistants had died down, leaving Noah and Alex to focus on their respective caseloads. Papers were neatly stacked across their desks, punctuated by the occasional scratching of pens or the soft tap of a keyboard.

“Peace and quiet,” Alex muttered with a grin, flipping through a file. “Feels almost unnatural, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t jinx it,” Noah replied dryly, his eyes scanning a deposition. “The boss could walk in any minute and ruin everything.”

They worked in companionable silence until lunch arrived, brought in by a cheerful young delivery woman. “Here you go, gentlemen,” she said, handing over the brown paper bags at the security desk.

“Thanks,” Noah said warmly, offering her a generous tip. Alex followed suit, flashing her a charming smile as he handed over a few extra bills.

“You two are way too nice,” she said with a laugh, tucking the money into her pocket. “Happy holidays!”

“Happy holidays,” they both echoed before returning to their desks two floors up.

In the breakroom, as they unwrapped their sandwiches, Alex pulled out his phone. Noah watched as his friend’s expression softened immediately, his voice dropping to that familiar tone he always used when talking to Charlotte.

“No news is good news,” Alex said, his words accompanied by the faint sound of Charlotte’s voice on the other end. “I’m sure Ruth made it home okay.”

There was a pause, and then Alex let out an exasperated sigh. “No, Charlotte, she won’t think you’re overbearing if you call her. But fine, fine. I’ll call her.”

He hung up, shaking his head with a chuckle. “She’s worried,” he explained to Noah, rolling his eyes. “Wants to make sure Ruth’s okay but doesn’t want to ‘smother’ her.”

Noah smirked, leaning back in his chair. “So are you going to call her?”

Alex pointed a finger at him. “You know what? Here’s an idea: why don’tyoucall her?”

Noah raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, what’s her number?”