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She left the bell on the tree and went upstairs. She needed to say goodbye for both their sakes.

Jones jumped up on the bed, and a jingle filled the air as he coiled onto her lap.

“What have you got?” Lyla asked, and then she saw the silver bell hanging from his mouth by its red ribbon. She looked at the clock: 8:45pm. It would be 11:45am in Yule.

“You think I should go to him?” she said, and Jones stared at her. “I want to go! I don’t want to be without him, but – it’s complicated.”

8:50pm. She took the bell from Jones and went back downstairs to hang it back on the tree. When she opened the door to the sitting room, the clock rang. The heavy dongs of the old grandfather clock in the hall filled the house, as if mocking her decision. She paused, and Jones weaved through the half-open door.

“I knew you would hesitate,” Mason said, appearing before the Christmas tree.

He hadn’t even waited a minute. She hated that he knew her so well. He was wearing the cable-knit sweater with a Santa Claus on the front. The irony made her smile.

Watching him from the doorframe, she realised that all she’d done was create two broken hearts. Without thinking, she ran to him, and he embraced her tightly.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t go to you. I was so afraid of losing you that it was easier to let you go,” she said into his shoulder, only to hear him laugh.

“You know, that makes no sense. Plus, I’ve decided that I’m not going to overthink this,” Mason said, putting her down, wiping the smudges of mascara from underneath her eyes.

“What if we fight? We always fight!”

He answered her with a kiss, and that was all the comfort she needed.

“I’ll happily spend the rest of my life fighting with you. There’s no losing me. We’ll make this work. I promise you,” he said in between kisses, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I want to be with you. Today, tomorrow – even if I have to wait until Christmas every year, it will always be you,” she told him. Resting against his chest, she could hear his racing heart as they held each other

“I’ll never let you go again,” he whispered.

And in all the years that followed, he never did.