Page 5 of A Cozy Kind of Christmas

FOUR

MEG

A week later, back at her apartment, Meg sat frozen in front of her laptop, staring at her first-ever New York Times feature story. Today was the day. The one thing she had dreamed about for her entire adult life—her byline in the Times—had finally come to fruition.

She blinked twice, her eyes blurry with disbelief as she reread the byline again and again: By Meg Reed.

She should have felt giddy. She should have been blasting Frank Sinatra Christmas carols and dancing around her living room in her pink fuzzy slippers in front of her bedazzled pink tree, soaking in the cheerful vibe of her space.

Her apartment was quintessentially cozy, with hand-cut paper snowflakes dangling from the ceiling, rope string lights adorning the window, and bundles of cinnamon-scented pinecones piled near the faux fireplace, where her pink stocking hung on a tiny bejeweled hook.

Instead, she fought back tears as she scanned the story.

Never, not in her wildest, most ambitious dreams, would she have imagined that pursuing her passion would come at such a cost. She’d given up nearly everything and everyone she loved in the process of searching for her truth.

Her phone buzzed on the antique wooden desk, rattling with a barrage of congratulatory texts from friends and colleagues around the world.

That felt like something. Not necessarily good, but a version of good.

She could almost hear Gam’s voice, steady and certain, encouraging her to lean into the accomplishment and the baggage that came with it.

Meg gripped her fingers tighter around her phone, willing it to buzz again—wishing.

Maybe he’d seen it?

Maybe he’d call?

Or send his congratulations through Jill.

But the one person she wanted to hear from more than anyone else was silent. Not that she should have been surprised. When she said goodbye to Matt, she made her choice. She knew that leaving would forever alter both of their futures.

And still, she couldn’t stay.

He knew it, too. At his core. Maybe he hadn’t been willing to admit it. Maybe he hadn’t been ready to see it. But deep down, Meg believed he knew.

He knew she had to go, even if it broke both of their hearts.

She’d never forget the day he’d begged her to stay, his big blue eyes turning glassy as he’d held her hand and whispered softly, “Megs, please stay.”

It wasn’t a fair ask.

Her career versus him.

It was an impossible choice.

He admitted as much as he left her at the airport with a parting kiss, giving her the same genuine, sappy smile that always made her knees feel like they might give out. “Or I could come with you.”

She had shaken her head, not trusting herself to speak.

“Yeah, okay,” he’d said with resignation. “Go live your wild dreams. You deserve this, but try not to forget about me, okay?”

She didn’t look back. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she power-walked to the gate and decided right then and there that she was going to go cold turkey when it came to Matt Parker. It was the only way.

They’d gone over every scenario—her staying in Bend, Matt trekking to New York with her, or continuing to try and make long-distance work, where they spent every other weekend flying halfway across the country. None of it made sense. None of it had lasting power.

It was wearing them both thin.

So Meg opted to leave it up to fate. If they were meant to be together, they’d find a way back. And if not—well—if not…

She hadn’t fully considered the “if not” back then.

She only knew that Matt was her crutch—the person she texted daily pics of her morning coffee, the one she called when an assignment bombed or she couldn’t find her way into a story, the guy she stayed up way past her bedtime with on video chats, her eyes growing heavy as she drifted off to sleep before the phone hit her face startled her awake again.

They had tried—earnestly tried, but it was over, and remaining connected even as friends was just too painful.

Now, here she was, with the biggest story of her life staring back at her and no Matt Parker to share it with.

Deception and Lies—that was the headline of the NYT feature she’d pitched and had accepted as a freelance piece: How My Father Faked His Death to Bring Down a Criminal Drug Ring.

It was still hard to process that the story, which was so much more than a side hustle, inked in print in arguably one of the most revered publications in the world, was her story. It was a story she’d been trying to run from for the last seven years.

To finally share it in such broad strokes felt equally right and oddly deflating.

Meg—NYT, baby!!!

A text from Jill, her best friend, appeared on her screen.

You did it! You really did it. Can’t wait to celebrate in Bend. We’ll see you in a week!

The message was followed by a dozen celebratory emojis.

It feels surreal for sure.

This calls for a toast. You are coming to Bend, right? You are not backing out now. You promised. We promised. Matt’s 30th birthday is a big deal. I cannot wait to smooch your face.

Meg hesitated for a minute, trying to think of how to reply.

She, Jill, and Matt had been inseparable in their early twenties.

Her friends had gotten her through the trauma of Pops’s death—then the shock discovery that her father hadn’t died after all, but was deep undercover for a story he was writing.

And they had teamed up to investigate some shady crimes of their own while she was working at Northwest Extreme magazine, a job that she had been horrifically unqualified for.

She had learned a lot since then, mainly through painful self-reflection and slow growth. That’s what your twenties were supposed to be for, right?

The problem was Matt.

When they finally parted, she made it clear it was the end for them.

She owned that piece of their story. But she never imagined that Matt would find someone.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. Of course he would find someone. He was the kindest, smartest, funniest, most capable person on the planet. But fall in love with someone else? No, that wasn’t on her bingo card.

She had heard through the grapevine that he’d been dating Lucinda Hinton, the heiress to the high-tech energy company Blazen, where he had worked as a technical writer for the last seven years.

Back in the day, the three of them—she, Jill, and Matt—made a pact that they would remain inseparable no matter where they were in the world.

They would drop everything and get on a plane for a wedding, a milestone birthday, or when one of them had a baby.

That sounded like a great idea at the time.

But even though he’d invited her out of politeness, Meg highly doubted Matt wanted her at his birthday party.

I don’t think it’s a good idea. I will see you in Bend for sure. I’m coming for the assignment, but I don’t know about the party.

No way. You are not backing out now. RSVP this minute or I will do it for you. See you in one week.

I doubt Matt wants me there.

Already talked to him. He does! If I can fly from Italy you can make it from New York. Can’t wait to see you IRL! Kiss kiss.

There was no going against Jill once she set her mind to something.

But, Matt.

Well, Matt was another story.

She didn’t love the thought of having to see Matt face-to-face for the first time since they’d parted ways.

She should have been thinking about her next assignment. The pressure was on to deliver a story that was cozy and timely—a signature Meg Reed piece. Instead, her brain kept circling back to one impossible truth. She was going to see Matt face-to-face.

For the first time since they’d said goodbye.

Dozens of what-ifs bombarded her head. What if she had tried harder to make the distance work? What if it had been a mistake to go radio silent on him?

All those ignored texts and phone calls… She sighed heavily, filled with a deep regret that felt like it had settled into her bones.

Could they pick back up like old friends?

Was it too late?

And what about Lucinda Hinton?

Seeing Matt in the arms of another woman would be rough. But maybe that’s exactly what she needed to finally let him go for good.

She took a deep, steadying breath. Regardless, a long weekend in Bend would be good for her, for her Oregon soul, as Gam would say.

She missed the smell of the forest, mountains, and green as far as the eye could see.

She even missed the rain. Somehow rainfall in Oregon felt different, like it could wash away all her problems, but then again, she might be romanticizing.

She closed the laptop and picked up Matt’s birthday invite, staring back up at her like a dare.

On paper, it sounded like a spectacular weekend if it weren’t for the fact that they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Lucinda had arranged for a tour of the best that the high desert had to offer—a welcome holiday bonfire, beer tasting at Matt’s favorite brewery, a snowshoe tour, a forest formal Saturday party, and a Sunday brunch to cap off three days of adventure.

Lucinda had designed the weekend like she was staging a holiday rom-com, minus the drama—hopefully.

But the thought of Matt with another woman made her stomach twist.

Still, she had a story to write and a job to do. She was a professional, and even though she wasn’t sure her heart was in ESPN long-term, she needed a steady paycheck.

And if she learned anything in the last few years, it was this: Some stories required more than research. They required showing up.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she opened the email and clicked RSVP.

You’ve confronted your demons on the page, Meg, she reminded herself. Now it’s time to do it in person.