For the first time since their first fiery conversation on the steps of town hall, Kate’s firm grasp on her wide-eyed optimism fractured. It was her turn to yell.

“But I do!” She flinched at her own voice, shock visibly rippling through her body at her own reaction. They stared at her, waiting with slack jaws as she ran a hand through her hair and collected herself.

When she returned to them, she was quiet, but no less emphatic, and to Clark’s surprise, she didn’t deliver the end of her declaration to the two lifelong friends currently begging her to spend her favorite holiday together. She spoke to him. “I believe in Christmas, and I don’t think anyone should be alone like this. Even you.”

She left chills up the back of his neck. She’d said the one thing he didn’t want to hear. In the corner of his peripheral vision, Emily visibly deflated. Michael threw an arm over her slumped shoulders before walking her towards the door.

“Okay. We’ll see you when we see you, I guess. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, guys.”

They left, like the rest of the Miller’s Point crowd, through the swinging kitchen door. Eventually, they’d find themselves either leaving from one of the servant’s entrances or through the grand front entryway, but for now, their footsteps echoed in Clark’s ears and their absence carved a chasm between him and the woman who stayed behind.

Stayed behind with him. Because she didn’t want him to feel lonely.

Clark didn’t know what to do with that information except hate her for it.

“What is your problem?”

“My problem?” he repeated, incredulous. He thought he’d made his problem exceptionally clear when he told her he wanted her out of his house, out of his life…and, yeah, out of his head. She’d only been around for less than a day, and still she consumed him. Clark often heard of people describing themselves as “walled off.” They “built their walls” to keep themselves protected and others out. Clark’s heart wasn’t so much a walled castle as it was a vault in Fort Knox. With every word Kate said, he added another steel lock to the door. No one was going to catch him with his guard down, especially not the one woman who’d managed to get under his skin after twenty-seven years on earth.

“Yeah.” She crossed her arms, an indication he’d be seeing no more Miss Nice Elf. “I want to know why you’re like this.”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you. This isn’t tragic backstory time.”

“I want to understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand.”

“Something had to make you this way.”