Song:
"Carol of the Bells" - Ashnikko

Wolf was quite possibly the most adorable creature I'd ever encountered, and if my mom came home right now and saw her sitting on the couch, she'd lose it.

I stroked her soft fur, forgoing the editing I had planned on completing while everyone was out.

I'd planned on sulking on the couch in front of the fire and stuffing my face with the nachos Baker tossed in the trash.

I didn't blame him, he needed to scrape them off the pan with a metal spatula, and they still didn't want to budge.

I wanted to be mad, but the chuckle of humiliation cracked when he suggested grabbing a scrapper from the garage, and I couldn't help but laugh at myself.

I wasn't a terrible cook, and I might have done alright if it wasn't for the damn jalapenos. My hands still throbbed, and I contemplated running out the patio doors and shoving them into the snow.

It was nice to see Baker smile, even if it was at the expense of my dignity. It had been so long I might have forgotten what it looked like had I not gone through old pics.

He scrubbed the pan, using no small amount of might before finishing and made his way over to the sitting room, seeming reluctant to sit with me. I understood why. Not only did I have a boyfriend who was pissed at me for withholding information about Baker, but I hadn't been very kind to him.

Baker took the armchair adjacent to the couch, and his dog left me to sit at his feet. "She's beautiful," I said and meant it.

Baker scratched behind her ear, looking down with admiration. The boys and I always wanted a dog, but my mom wouldn't allow it. Not because she hated them but because they were a lot of work, and between having two twins and a daughter who were only a year apart, a husband who worked constantly, and a job of her own, she would never have found the time.

My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the coffee table next to my camera and laptop.

Dallas: Hey, can't wait to see you.

My brows furrowed as I picked up my phone. Dallas hadn't answered one of my texts since our last conversation, and it showed with the one-sided one I was having with myself.

Hadley: ??

I waited for a response. Unable to understand what he meant. Was Dallas planning a trip to see me? Or did he mean when I returned?

I understood he was mad at me. I should have told him about Baker. It wasn't because I was hiding him as he accused me of doing. Dallas was supposed to come home with me. I had planned on informing him the night before we were scheduled to leave, but he never made it to the apartment. Practice had run late, which was pretty standard, so I thought I'd wait and tell him on the plane, but then he bailed.

Three dots appeared in the thought bubble on my screen, then disappeared.

And again.

I might have noticed Baker shift had I not been so puzzled.

"You didn't call him."

My brows pinched further at Baker's comment. "What?"

"On Saturday," he said, elbows resting on his knees. "It was your ass."

My ass?

Oh my god! I had my phone in my back pocket!

Well, he was bound to find out sooner or later, I suppose. I just wish it was under better circumstances.

I looked back at my phone, but the bubbles had disappeared.

Whatever, let him be mad at me.

I tossed the phone on the couch, not noticing Wolf's ears go down as I gave my attention to my laptop and the Nikon I plugged into it.

The deafening quiet stuck to the air.

I wanted to apologize to Baker, and I might have had he not said, "Does he always talk to you like that?"

"Like how you used to?" I countered quicker than I expected.

It was a cheap shot, but I couldn't help the resentment I still harboured and was upset with Dallas for not texting me back.

Baker's eyes flickered, but instead of snapping back, he asked, "Do you love him?"

I smiled incredulously. "You have no right to ask me that." Not after everything he did.

A muscle feathered in his jaw. He knew he had no right. Not after the shit, he put me through.

I waited for a response, almost wanting him to fight back so I could be angry instead of feeling that twinge of guilt when the hurt flickered across his face.

I was a bitch sometimes, and it frustrated me. Really, I didn't want to argue with Baker. I wanted us to get over it, so neither of us had to tiptoe around each other, and I could enjoy my time here, but it seemed like every time we ended up in the same room together, all we did was fight.

In the midst of my internal quarrelling, he said, "I went to see you."

I shot Baker a puzzling look at his blurted confession. "When?"

"July. Your mom said you weren't coming home for your birthday, and we wanted to surprise you."

We. Not I, meaning Baker likely went with my brothers.

I stared in utter disbelief. "Why didn't you call?"

He shrugged, easing back in the armchair. "You blocked my number."

I did. After I left, I cut as many ties as I could with Baker.

"We showed up to your work," he went on, and my stomach flopped.

I was still getting to know people then, including Dallas, who I spent most of the night kissing in the shadows. We weren't together. Not then anyway, but our relationship went instafamous the next day after several photos of us surfaced.

I wasn't pleased or interested in a relationship. Not at that time. The wounds were still fresh, but I thought maybe it was better if I moved on and gave Dallas a chance. He'd been sweet, and it had been so long since anyone had yearned for my affection. And I thought his persistence was adorable.

I recalled that day and noted how Baker avoided my gaze. "You sent me flowers."

It was more a question than a statement.

I received a beautiful bouquet of fire red and sunset orange lilies with no note that morning. Just the bouquet Janelle had squealed about and placed on our dining room table, thinking it came from a secret admirer.

Again, he shrugged, and the guilt slammed through me.

I assumed they were from Dallas. He didn't negate it when I thanked him later that night, but he didn't confirm they were from him either. He just accepted my thanks in the currency of an innocent kiss he initiated, one that turned thorough and pleading.

I thought maybe he'd searched through old photos on Instagram and found my favourite flowers.

Fuck I was an idiot! Of course, it wasn't Dallas. He'd hardly known me then.

My rage soon turned toward Baker when he said, "I didn't expect you to move on so fast."

"I left in April, Baker," I defended. "That's four months, and we were broken up long before that."

I wondered if I was angrier with myself than him for not realizing it sooner.

"You broke up with me a month before you left," he replied. "We dated for six years, Hadley."

"If I recall correctly, you slept with Sophia," I snipped right back. In August, if I remembered right.

"We weren't together."

"So it's okay for you but not me."

Frustration bloomed across his face. "It meant nothing," he argued. "And I wasn't posting pictures of it all over social media."

"No, but everyone heard about it." Including me because all our friends felt it necessary to inbox me whenever they saw him out with someone new.

It was humiliating. And it hurt. But it was probably just as painful for him.

Hadley and Baker. Baker and Hadley. Everyone assumed we'd be together forever, and when we broke up, well...

Baker scrubbed his face in frustration.

I expected him to argue. To plead his case and defend his reasoning for sleeping with a girl I loathed. Instead, he said, "I'm sorry."

I pinched my brows together.

Baker went on. "Hadley, I'm trying, and I'm tired of fighting. I know I was a shit boyfriend. I know, okay. I drank too much. I embarrassed you. I said things I didn't mean. After my mom's accident...." He paused, and his throat bobbed up and down. "I was a mess," he finished, leaving it at that.

His apology surprised me.

He was a mess. After we got the news about the crash, he seemed fine, aside from the stunned quiet he lingered in. But when my family and I accompanied him to the funeral...

My bottom lip quivered. I'd never seen Baker break the way he had. And I wasn't prepared for everything that came after.

His gaze penetrated with such intensity I swear I could feel his soul and the sorrow that seeped from it.

"It's not an excuse for my behaviour," he continued. "And if I could take it all back, I would."

It was the first time Baker had ever apologized, and it took me off guard, but he wasn't finished.

"You were there for me when no one else was," he went on. "After my mom left, when my dad beat me, and I had nowhere else to go. When she died."

I blinked—lashes fluttering in an attempt to keep the tears within.

We'd been through a lot together. More than anyone our age should have to endure. He knew it. I knew it.

Baker said, "You were there when I woke up in the hospital. You were sleeping on the armchair curled up in a blanket."

A single tear fell at the mention of that place.

I didn't think he was going to get up. It was the hardest week of my life, and I remembered every detail vividly. The heart-stopping moment he'd fallen from his sled and the scream of terror that tore through my throat. It still rang in my ears from time to time when images of the sled behind crushed him.

I blinked that sorrow away. I wouldn't open that box. Not tonight. I couldn't think about how the nurses refused my request to stay after his injury. Immediate family only. I was Baker's immediate family, I argued—my mom, dad, Austin and the boys. Luckily for us, Baker named my mother his emergency contact, and my parents convinced them to let me stay. I wouldn't think about all the silent prayers I'd uttered in that dark room night after night. Or my reluctance to leave when my family would come to relieve me.

I couldn't leave him alone. I wouldn't. And I never did. Not till he'd pushed me over the edge.

Something flashed across Baker's face. Like he wanted to reach for me. To comfort me the way I wanted him to when he woke up. The way I tried to.

He didn't, and I took a breath to steady myself. "I don't want to fight either."

The edges of Baker's mouth curled in a heart-warming smile that was genuine and full of relief. It wasn't the apology I wanted to give, but it seemed to be enough for him.

A rush of cold hit me hard in the back, and I glanced over my shoulder, finding Johnny holding three large pizza boxes. "Pineapples on pizza are disgusting, Had."

I stretched a smile at the level of seriousness stamped upon his face before sliding my gaze to Janelle, the twins, and then—

"Nicolas Baker, that dog better not have been on that couch!"

Baker blanched—throat bobbing as he stared in wide-eyed fear at my mother.

I laughed under my breath as he shot up and called the dog—the two escaping out the back when my phone buzzed.

Dallas: We need to talk.

A/N: We called a truce!... well, sort of. I think now there's understanding between Baker and Hadley, but what's up with Dallas?

Thank you all so much for reading <3