Well, she’d been thinking that it was fifteen years ago, and it was damn time she put all of that in the past. And maybe, just maybe, Addison’s words had struck a chord. Was she secretly hoping to have a fairytale Christmas? This house certainly had the makings of it, decorated as it was. And the snow outside was picture-perfect.

Only now—right now—she was feeling a bit lonely. A lot lonely, actually. Maybe it was a mistake to accept Abby’s invitation. Because, yeah, Holly was putting her in her place all right. Making sure everyone, especially Abby, knew that she wasn’t good enough for this family. At first, it was a bit of a game, sure. But why had she played along with it? Why had she made herself out to be so second-class? She could have told them she managed her uncle’s company. She could have told them she ran the office and that she rarely went out on job sites. She could have made up some story about how she’d taken Abby out to The Oasis on Lake Travis for their first date and that they’d sat out on the patio and enjoyed the sunset views. That would have been romantic. She hadn’t thought of that, though. No, because she wasn’t a romantic person. Barbeque ribs that were dripping in sauce was right up her alley.

Maybe she’d let Holly go on like she had because, in truth, she didn’t think she was good enough. She’d had a dysfunctional childhood, that was for sure. She didn’t really remember the early years. Were they normal? All she remembered was the drinking, the fighting. On any given night, you never knew which one of them would be the most lit. If it was her father, then she and Sean would hide. He would just be looking for an excuse to lay into them. If it was her mother, they’d retreat to the farthest room—Sean’s room—because the yelling and screaming would be so bad, it was the only place they could attempt to escape it. She sighed. Yeah, those were the good old days, weren’t they? Because later, things really got ugly. She stared into her own eyes, seeing the hollowness there. Was it always there? She didn’t know. It wasn’t often that she did this self-perusal.

And she didn’t want to do it now. That was in the past. She didn’t want to relive it. She’d moved on. She had a new life now. A normal life. Yeah, right. Her uncle was much like she’d always wished her father had been. He was warm, friendly. Caring. Who knows? Maybe her father used to be that way too. Before the drinking. Before the fighting. Or maybe not.