After we finished our cups of hot cocoa, I asked Cole to take me home right away. For some reason, I remembered how Chelsea used to make me hot cocoa every Christmas eve.

"Drink up, buttercup," I remember her say every time.

I always refused because she only makes one and I don't want to drink it when she doesn't have one as well.

"But I made it for you, not for me!" she even stubbornly resists.

So, in the end, I'm forced to drink her delicious cup of hot cocoa. Not that I don't like it, I just don't like the fact that I'm drinking something delicious when she isn't.

Our last Christmas eve went like this: I was sipping the hot cocoa she made for me slowly when she accidentally hit my hands holding the cup with her hips.

"Shit, sorry!" she says, running to get some paper towel. She helps me clean up the mess and grabs the cup from me. "I'll make you another one," she tells me without waiting for my approval.

She immediately goes outside of our room and returns with a fresh cup of hot cocoa.

"I didn't really need another one," I say and she furrows her eyebrows at me.

"Is it not good?" she says, her lips twitching. I can tell right away that she's becoming self-conscious.

"Don't get me wrong, Chelsea, it's great, it really is. It's just that, I don't think it's fair that I get one and you don't," I explain as she hands me the cup of hot cocoa. This time there were marshmallows.

I didn't know she didn't know I hate marshmallows. Or maybe she just forgot? I stare at the cup intently and when I turn to look at her, her lips were still twitching.

"You don't like marshmallows, do you?" she says, her fists clenched.

"Uhm, it's fine," I casually say but she sensed the hesitation in my tone right away.

"I knew it! I thought for a second it was Avery who hated marshmallows, not you!" she says, curling into a ball on my bed.

"Hey, it's fine," I assure her as I walk from the bay window to my bed. I sit down beside her, carefully placing the cup of hot cocoa on top of my desk. I pat her head and smoothed her hair down.

"Now you hate me," she huffs, hiding her face from me.

"No, I don't," I whisper to her, leaning close. "And I never will."

"What are your family's plans this Christmas?" Cole asks as we drive home. I can still smell the faint scent of the café from him.

"I don't know," I reply shortly.

"You want to come to my house tomorrow?" he invites and I just look at him. "What? My mom makes the best hot apple cider," he adds, winking.

"Thanks, but I have to turn down the offer," I say and I saw how his expression changed in an instant.

He keeps silent for the rest of the ride. I just watch the snow fall from the sky outside while hearing Cole's fingers tapping on the steering wheel. This truly is his habit while driving.

It's either he taps his fingers on the steering wheel or he only drives with one hand while placing the other one behind his head.

Soon, we pulled over in front of our house.

"Thank you for toda—," I was about to get out when suddenly Cole tugged my coat sleeve.

"I have something to ask you," he says.

I turn to look back at him and that's when I saw how cold his ocean eyes were. I found myself locked in his gaze. I can't move neither can I look away. I just stare straight at them, not even blinking once.

"And you better answer me honestly," he adds, clearing his throat lightly. I nod slowly, my whole body frozen. "Promise me," he says.

"P-promise you what?" I say, my voice soft. He removes his hand away from my coat and rubs them together. He cups his hands over his mouth and breathes into it before looking back at me.

"Promise me that you'll tell me the truth," he explains, locking his gaze into mine. I just nod slowly as he smiles ever so lightly. "Here's my question."

He purses his lips and hesitated for a minute. He grabs one of my hands and massages it between his warm hands.

"Do you hate me?" he asks and I can't help but laugh at his sudden question.

He stares at me with confused eyes and I just laughed even more. I yanked my hand away from his touch and slapped him. At this, his eyes even widened more.

"Of course, not!" I yell at him, laughing until my stomach ached.

"Really?" he says, as I adjust myself in my seat.

"Yes!" I shout and I can see how happy his eyes became. The cold blue eyes before became sparkling ones now.

"If that's the case, then would you come over at my house tomorrow?" he says and I just narrow my eyes at him, turning serious once again.

"I don't know about that, though," I tell him and his eyes stopped sparkling. "I'll give it a thought," I lie just so that he won't look at me that way anymore.

He smiles at me again and I smiled back at him.

"Bye for now, then," he says, leaning in to open the door for me from the inside. "I'm hoping to see you tomorrow, again," he adds, turning to look at me, his face just a couple of inches from mine.

"Sure," I say, backing my face away. I slip away and went outside before waving him goodbye. "If ever I won't see you tomorrow," I hold the door of the passenger seat open. "Have a merry Christmas, Cole Beckett," I finish.

He laughs at this and I just looked at him with a confused expression.

"Leave the greeting for tomorrow, we'll see each other, I'm certain," he says, winking.

I close the door lightly before waving him another goodbye. He waves back before driving away completely. I went inside the house and when I saw myself in the mirror, I realized how flushed my cheeks were and how my eyelashes caught some snowflakes in them.

I remove my beanie and dusted off the snowflakes from my eyelashes before removing my coat. I place it on the coat rack before trying to search for mom.

"Mom?" I call out and her head immediately pops from the kitchen. "What are you doing?" I ask and she eyes me suspiciously.

"Where were you?" she says, placing her hands on her hips.

"Just out with a friend," I reply casually, and at this, she narrows her eyes even more.

"You smell like coffee mixed with something sweet," she says, crossing her arms and leaning her weight on her right leg.

"We went to a café, mom!" I groan as she laughs before pulling me into a hug.

"My daughter's finally growing up," she says delightedly and I can't help but feel a pang in my chest.

We were supposed to be her daughters, I wasn't supposed to be just her daughter. Chelsea and I were a package ever since.

"Mom," I softly say as she pulls away with a wide smile on her face. "May I ask you something?"

She raises her eyebrows. I can feel her excitement just by seeing her expression.

Do you regret leaving me with Chelsea that day?

"Can I leave tomorrow?" I say instead and her excitement just grows even more.

"Of course! If you're going out with a friend then sure!" she says, squeezing my face between the palm of her hands.

"My friend invited me over, that's why," I say, as she plays with my cheeks. "Cut it out, mom!"

She giggles as my voice becomes distorted with all her squeezing.

"I'm happy for you," she says as her voice starts to crack. She removes her hands away from my face and pulls me in for another hug. I can feel her tears come out from her eyes as she tightens her arms around me.

"Mom?" I say, wrapping my arms around her as well.

"I miss Chelsea, so, so much," she says, her voice shaking.

"Me, too, mom. Me, too."

We just stay like that for a while and that's when I realized her answer to the question, I was supposed to ask her.

Of course, she does regret it.

No mother won't.