Unfortunately, that meant I had to peel my cheek off of the cold hardwood the next morning. Rising up, I gave my sore back a stretch, and I wiped the sleep from my eyes. After a few minutes of realigning my spine and getting proper blood flow back into my numb legs, I looked over at the clock on the wall. It was nine in the morning. We served breakfast at eight.

I jumped to my feet, which still felt a bit like walking on pins and needles, and threw open the door. At least I still had my clothes on from yesterday. Of course I had to hope no one noticed they were in fact the same clothes...

However, before I went bolting down the hall, I noticed a tray of food sitting on the opposite wall, where it sat safely out of reach should I come storming out in a panic. Stepping over to it, I saw a note lying next to a plate of toast, jelly, scrambled eggs, and bacon.

Have breakfast in bed today. I'll take care of the guests this morning. You just rest.

—Jordan

For a moment, I thought of casting Jordan's gift aside and proving myself capable of tackling the day, but I figured I'd played the fool long enough and it was time to listen to reason. I picked up my tray and sent a sideways glance down the hall, looking past the door to where Jordan would be attending to our guests. I then went in, sat down at my desk and enjoyed the now cool cup of coffee. The sweet and savory scents wafted up from the delightful breakfast and warmed my soul.

Once I had my food and took a shower, I went out my door, ready to face the challenges ahead. And by challenges, I meant cleaning rooms and preparing the ornament decoration table. So long as I kept my hands busy, I could push the rest away. It was a method I knew was no longer as effective as I thought it to be, but it's what I needed. I knew I couldn't keep compartmentalizing my emotions, but I also needed to get a job done.

Jordan didn't protest when I found him tidying up one of the rooms. He simply asked if I was okay and then handed me fresh sheets to put over the mattress. We proceeded through the rooms in silence, but unlike the days before, I felt a concerned whisper hanging in the air instead of repressed resentment. It was something in the curve of his brow as he handed me a broom or a washcloth. It was something in the way he looked at me when he thought I didn't see him. It was something in the touch of his hands whenever he brushed past me.

We were so efficient in our silent progress that we managed to gain ourselves a few hours of freedom before we'd have to set up the ornament table activity. I could have taken a really long lunch to work out how I was going to fix the disaster I created, but I was still full from my late breakfast and I wasn't particularly ready to face that beast so early in the day. That left me with a few options to keep my hands busy and the inner demons silent. But then I was reminded that I wasn't standing there alone.

"Hey," said Jordan, pulling me from my thoughts, "I'm going to grab a quick bite for lunch, but if you want to join me..."

"I'm not hungry," I muttered, my eyes looking between him and the floor. "I woke up pretty late and I had a very wonderful breakfast not too long ago." A fragile smile touched my lips, and I saw another layer of ice melt away from his face.

"That's okay, I understand." He rubbed the back of his neck and shared a lopsided smile. "I'll just grab a sandwich on my own and then I was thinking, maybe we could work on decorating the trees. I strung up the lights yesterday after you left, but I didn't want to do more than that. I thought that might be something you wanted to do yourself, and I didn't want to take that from you."

He looked at me with a hopeful grin, but his words only reopened that wound that had just barely begun to heal. Uncertain of the cause of my silence, he continued on with a struggling, but cheery voice. "I also looked over your ornaments. They're really great!" His smile grew, and I felt myself shrinking. "No, I'm serious. I think they're just wonderful. I knew you were creative!" He tried to meet my ever lowering gaze, his words doing all they could to pull me back. "Gina would have loved them!"

"Oh, Jordan," I sobbed, my hands rising to meet my face.

"What? What's wrong? What aren't you telling me?" He reached out and took hold of my shoulders. He tried to nudge me back towards him, but I just couldn't face him.

"I just... I just don't think I deserve... I shouldn't be the one putting up those decorations."

"Lyn..."

All I could see were the dark tips of my fingers barricading my eyes. All I could feel were the tears slicking my palms. All I could hear was the echo of my sobs inside of my ears. So when his hands pulled me against him and his arms wrapped around me, I wasn't even sure what had happened. I pulled my hands away, my breath catching when I opened my eyes to find myself pressed into his soft, thermal shirt, embraced gently in his arms.

"I don't know what it is you're feeling," he continued, his voice just above my ear. "I'm sure the sale of the house is taking a toll on you, but I'm guessing more is going on here. My attitude hasn't helped with anything and I'm certain it contributed to the guilt you're feeling, but... but Gina would have forgiven you. Whatever's weighing you down, she'd have forgiven you in a heartbeat and she would have certainly wanted you decorating those trees. You made those ornaments to honor her. Who else should be the one putting them up?"

He couldn't have known at the time how much those words stabbed me and how much I knew them to be true. I bit my lip to keep it from trembling and unleashing another cry. I slid my hands around his sides and dug beneath his arms. Reaching up to his shoulder blades, I pressed myself further into his embrace. Then my lungs wouldn't be able to find the air needed to power my sobs. I brushed my cheek against his shirt and let the cotton fabric soak up my tears.

Standing there in his arms, I embraced his offer of forgiveness and hope. I couldn't let go of the gift my great aunt had given to me. My grip grew ever stronger around him, and I wondered if he'd pull away from my desperate hold. I needed to absorb all of his warmth, firmness, and sympathy while I still could, before it was stolen away from me. Yet, would it really be stealing if I was the one that was handing the thieves the key to the door? Again my embrace tightened and this time I felt him reciprocate.

He matched my strength, my desperation, and my uncertainty. In that moment, I knew I wasn't alone. The fear remained, but my hope stood strong within Jordan's arms, when it had no reason to do so.

"Okay." My voice was a rough whisper, nearly lost in the folds of his shirt. "Okay, let's decorate the trees."

He pressed his cheek to the top of my head and I felt his breath against my hair. "Okay."

My grandmother had held on to me many times in my life. Her hugs were long and firm, always afraid to let me go. I think it was her way of preparing for that inevitable goodbye. And that's exactly how I held Jordan. Desperately clinging to something I knew was slipping away. It was the only hug I knew. However, Jordan's gentle touch and soft embrace allowed me room to run if I wanted and also affirmed that he would be here waiting, with arms ready, for my return should I choose to break away.

This wasn't a hug of goodbye, but one of strength and understanding. Perhaps even something akin to affection.

I was not alone.

And in that moment, I realized I didn't want a hug of goodbye. I didn't want to cling desperately to him. To do so was to acknowledge that he would leave. I'd be forsaking the present in fear of the future.

Well, fuck the future and fuck the past.

I wanted this now. I wanted Jordan. I wanted the inn. I wanted to live.

I let him go and looked at him with a smile on my face.

"Thank you."

He nodded in response and then opened the door for me to head out of the room. A room that was my room. All of them were my rooms. They had been made for me, and I would not let anyone else have them. I would not return to a life where a cold, lonely future was the only thing I set my sights upon. I didn't know how to get out of this contract and I didn't know what my world would look like at the end of the year or even by the end of the day, but I was going to fight to keep what I had now that I finally had something worth keeping.