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Nakul

“That could have gone worse,” I grumble, staring at the half-empty hot chocolate. My stomach twists with a mix of emotions I can barely make sense of. The sweetness of the cocoa, its comforting warmth—it feels wrong against the cold knot of regret and anger lodged in my chest. Judd Stathis .

Of all people, Judd .

Judd with his beautiful little girl and his tired, earnest eyes. Judd, who’s made a life in this unforgiving world. And here I am, sitting across from the seat he just left, feeling like fate has twisted the knife one last time.

I never thought I’d run into Judd again—not in this lifetime, not in any lifetime—and definitely not like this. He’s one of the few who escaped our hometown, who broke free from the small-town trap and managed to build something real. A nice house. A beautiful daughter. A stable life. No scandals, no bankruptcies, no rumors trailing behind him like dark clouds. Judd figured it out. He made it work.

And yet, Ava left him. Walked away from him, from their child. From Stevie—who looked up at him with those bright, trusting eyes, full of a wonder I can’t imagine feeling anymore. Stevie is even more beautiful than I thought she’d be. It’s obvious she’s happy, secure, and loved in ways that tell me Judd’s doing an amazing job—maybe even better than he realizes.

My fists clench, the sting of everything Ava did settling into my chest like a slow-burning fire. How could she leave? How could she walk away from something—someone—so pure, so good? But then, Ava’s selfishness isn’t news to me. I lived it. I fell for it. She didn’t just steal from Judd and Stevie; she stole from me, too. She played me, lied to me, twisted my trust into something ugly and cruel.

Months of my life, wasted . I planned a future with her—bought into every sweet little fantasy she spun while she pretended to want the same things. All the while, she’d already abandoned the family she once started. And I wonder now how I missed it, how I ignored the warning signs that must have been there.

I threw myself into my construction projects, working overtime to build the life I thought we wanted. She called herself a “business coordinator,” but really, she was coordinating her next post for Instagram, her next fancy outing. The truth didn’t hit me until I learned I couldn’t have children. The news was devastating, staring at test results telling me I could never have the family I wanted. In the end, strangely enough, the news saved me. Because when Ava realized there wouldn’t be a perfect little family for her to put on display, she showed me who she really was.

The worst part? The “vacation fund” she insisted on wasn’t a vacation fund at all—it was child support she should’ve been sending to Judd for Stevie. She stole from him, from that little girl, from me. For what? A shallow escape that wouldn’t last? Well, the funds are gone now.

She’ll realize soon enough and when she does, I hope it burns. She deserves to feel that hollow ache, the loss of something she thought she could hold onto forever. For once, she can deal with the fallout.

I sigh and grab the lukewarm hot chocolate to place into the trash with a grimace. Outside the café window, snow begins to fall, soft flakes drifting slowly to the ground. It should feel calming, like a fresh start, but it doesn’t. Instead, it stirs something restless in me, a need to do something, fix something.

Judd and Stevie deserve better than what Ava left them with. The thought of them struggling through Christmas because of her selfishness makes me sick. I don’t have much to offer these days, but I’ll figure something out. I’ll make sure their holiday is warm and bright— perfect , if I can manage it.

And Judd… I can’t stop thinking about him. The way he looked earlier, the faint blush on his cheeks when we spoke. It was barely there, but I saw it. Adorable, honestly. It’s strange, seeing him again after all these years, and stranger still how it makes me feel. He’s a single dad, holding it all together the best he can. I shouldn’t complicate that. But still, the memory of his blush lingers.

I step outside, the crisp air biting at my skin as I breathe it in. The town looks picturesque, almost magical. Nostalgia tugs at me, a bittersweet longing for something I can’t name.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and Judd’s name lights up the screen as I unearth the device. My heart stumbles, caught off guard. When I answer, his voice is soft, almost hesitant.

“Hey, Nakul?” He pauses like he’s unsure of himself. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier. I’m not great with people, and, uh, the holidays… they’re a lot.”

Warmth spreads through me, a quiet kind of joy at the fact that he even called. He doesn’t owe me an apology, not for anything, but the fact that he wants to connect means more than I can explain.

“How about dinner?” he asks, his words coming out in a rush. “If you’re free, I mean. It’d be nice to… talk. And maybe I can properly thank you for, well, for everything.”

Dinner. With Judd. A smile breaks across my face, the cold air around me forgotten. “I’d love that,” I say, meaning every word. “I’d really like that, Judd.”

We make plans for tomorrow evening and when the call ends, I can’t stop grinning. Maybe this winter won’t be so bleak after all.