PART 1

Seven years after my marriage ended, I drove across Billings, Montana, on Christmas Eve with one single purpose in mind.

I wanted to apologize to the woman I had once promised to spend my life with.

I had rehearsed the words for nearly two months in my mind, but the moment Lauren Keaton opened her front door, every sentence disappeared completely.

She looked different from the twenty-nine-year-old woman I had walked away from.

Her dark blond hair was shorter now, brushing her shoulders softly, and there were faint lines near her eyes that had not been there before.

Still, she had the same calm expression I remembered, the one that always made me feel as though she could see straight through every excuse I tried to make.

For several long seconds, neither of us spoke a word as the cold wind brushed past us.

Then Lauren looked down at the heavy overnight bag sitting near my feet.

“What are you doing here, Liam?” she asked quietly.

I swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

“I came to say something I should have said a long time ago.”

PART 2

Lauren kept one hand on the door, as if she couldn’t decide whether to invite me in or close it.

Behind her, I could see a strand of paper snowflakes hanging across the hallway.

A small pair of boots stood beside the radiator.

I noticed them without understanding why they mattered.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” she said.