If you had asked me one week ago what I'd be doing on Christmas Eve...

Buttoning up my berry red pea coat and preparing to face two suitors was definitely not in the cards.

I sit in the back seat of my mom's sedan, idling worse than her engine at this red light. A basket of candy cane twists rests in the otherwise empty seat beside me. I tune out my parents' pleasant discussion about Christmas Brunch plans and instead scroll mindlessly on social.

Jules and Jayden snap me casual half-nudes in some hot tub with strobe lights in the background. Not sure what kind of Christmas Eve party they're at, but I wish I were there. My mom slams the brakes suddenly and I drop my phone down onto the floor by my bootie. I reach down and pull it up only to see that my photos have been opened.

Preston stares back at me –him dressed as Superman at the spooky pub-crawl we did this past Halloween. I know if I scroll over, the next photo will show the show of us as Superman and Lois Lane.

Predictable and cliché I know.

We pull into the Bristowe parking lot at 7:04 PM. Its sign is illuminated red and white and looks very like the one at Trodder's Tree Farm.

"Already packed," my mother says, her hand spinning the steering wheel.

"There's a spot right there on the side." My dad points through the frosty windshield.

I clench my fists, my teeth –my everything.

My phone buzzes with texts from Preston.

I'm here.

Next to the Figgy Pudding display by the green nutcracker

"Oh, what the hell are you doing, Noe?" I utter under my breath.

The front yard is teeming with young kids waiting in line for the sleigh rides. I find myself absentmindedly peering at all the horse-drawn carriages, looking a very familiar red sleigh and a loyal reindeer named Trotter. An older gentleman pours hot cocoa from a navy-blue cooler and hands it to the kids waiting in line.

"Here we go. Here we go." I curse myself again. "Ugh, I should have made a plan!"

My boots drag across the gravel lot and stop in front of the weathered barn doors that just hours ago Preston and I stood in. A large banner hangs from the frame.

Welcome to the 33rd Annual Barn Benefit.

I walk into the barn and am instantly swallowed by stagnant, perfumed heat.

There must be hundreds of people crammed into this lofty barn! I snake my way through the crowd and past the pie table, searching for a green nutcracker. After about 15 fruitless minutes, I come up empty and decide to try the other side.

The three-piece band plays a Christmas instrumental. I'm almost positive it played during the gazebo incident. And by incident, I mean spectacular. Since last night in the gazebo was, in fact, spectacular. Nik is spectacular! Then again, so is my life in NYC. With Preston. 

If there were clouds inside this steamy barn, they would be parting right now. Preston appears front and center before the crowd. His dark eyes glow like charcoal embers in the night.

"Hey," I mumble.

"Hello Noelle," Preston says, kissing me quickly on the cheek.

His lips linger in front of mine for just one fraction of a second and I breathe him in. The aroma of cologne on his skin is intoxicating.

"I'm happy to be spending Christmas Eve with you," he says, earnest.

I look up at him and I can tell he means it. Preston is thrilled to be spending the holiday with me. the tables start turning.

Could Preston truly regret dumping me?

Does he genuinely want to resume our perfectly planned future in NYC?

In this moment, our life flashes behind my eyelids. Nights out at our favorite boujee bar. Nights in at Preston's downtown apartment. Jogs through Central Park in the fall. Chinese and Pad thai takeout from our secret spots. Midday lunches at the bistro with the outdoor flower patio. Me, wrapped up in Preston's old Columbia sweatshirt.

"Noe? Noelle?" Preston's voice breaks my reverie.

"Sorry, it's just so toasty in here," I say, yanking on the neck of my top.

"We can get some air?" He asks tentatively. "I think they have sleigh rides out front?"

He says it like he cannot believe he's saying the sentence. I get it.

I nod and lead Preston through the hungry holiday-ers. Still no sign of Stella or Dani or Nik. A minute part of me thinks maybe Nik won't show up –a thought that makes me uneasy.

The sleigh ride line has dwindled significantly in the last half hour; Preston and I are the second couple in the queue. I take the hot cocoa I am handed, absentminded. Its warm velvety chocolate warms me up, but I find it lacking a certain... spice.

"We're up," Preston says.

He takes our cups and discards them in the wire mesh trashcan next to the heat lamp. I climb into the white horse sleigh with Preston on my heels. We sit on the same red velvet cushion, nestled under a fur blanket. A strand of white lights outlines the carriage because why not.

"Click, click." The coachman clicks out of the side of his mouth.

"This is cozy," Preston says somewhere above my head.

"Cozy," I agree. "But still not as warm as Hawaii."

Preston must hear the bitterness in my voice, because he snaps to attention and starts apologizing again.

"Noelle, how many times do you want me to apologize? Because I will keep doing it if you need me to keep count. Please, forgive me," Preston implores.

"I have," I stress. "I guess I'm still a little shocked this is happening –You and me. A horse-drawn sleigh. You know."

"I have to admit, I agree. But this place is the perfect holiday getaway. Gets a bit humdrum after a while, though? Can't wait for us to get home for New Year's." Preston squeezes my shoulder.

"Humdrum?" I ask, defensive. "Maybe it's not the city and people aren't awake all night, but it's not boring."

"Right," Preston eyes me, skeptical. "You once left a 100-person work party since there wasn't enough going on."

"So, the town's a bit sparse, people scarce. It's not a horribly bad thing," I insist.

"Hell, Noe. Was your hot chocolate spiked?" Preston laughs.

"No," I huff. Folding my arms across my chest, I turn to look up at him.

"You can't be serious. You don't mean you want to–" Preston's eyebrows arc into a semi-circle. "Stay here? You want to stay here?"

"I didn't say that –Maybe. I mean, I don't know what I want, Preston. I am just defending a defenseless town. We aren't all NYC born and raised."

His expression softens a bit and he takes me hands in his.

"Look, Noelle. I love you. I do. This whole thing has been a misunderstanding. I was just getting cold feet. Literally." He squeezes my hand again.

"Thing," I repeat. "That's what you want to call it?"

"I just –Come on. You thought I was proposing, you said it yourself!" Preston argues.

"And?" I ask.

"And, I would think if you were expecting an engagement 10 days ago, then maybe you'd still be open to the idea?" He asks, hopeful.

Oh my GOD.