CAMBRIA

ELEVEN

There was something in the air during Christmas time. Candy canes and nostalgia. Cambria loved Christmas. Started counting down the days on the twenty-sixth of December. One of those people that wish for Christmas in July, or start their shopping in August.

Lunacy.

When she was young, she'd awake before the rest of her house, creeping down the hallway into Lincoln's room. Together, they'd congregate at the Christmas tree – sizing up boxes, shaking them – until their parents woke up and joined them.

They had their tradition. Presents. Bacon and eggs (always scrambled) with orange juice on the side. A family walk. Church, even though she never considered herself religious. More presents.

Now, she sat alone in her apartment, drinking tea at the kitchen table. She had decorated, but scarcely. A miniature tree sat in the corner of the living room, wrapped in red garland and a handful of ornaments that Mara had helped her pick out. A snow globe sat on her coffee table, an angel in her kitchen.

It was the tenth of December. She had a flight back home to Linden Falls on the twenty-first, where she would visit with her family until the twenty-eighth. As happy as she was in Pine Hills, there was something about going back to the place you came from.

And quite honestly, she needed it.

Cambria's life at the moment remained mundane and uneventful. She was making good money at her job and shoveling it away into savings. Her free time was spent either reading a book or watching television alone. And on the days that Mara was free, drinking martinis in her kitchen.

Life was so amiss without Jackson.

Cambria had only come to know a life after Jackson. Anything prior to meeting him was irrelevant. She found it difficult to fathom a time that existed before him. It was hard to believe that, just six months ago, they were strangers. And now, he was her entire world.

What a dangerous thing that can be, bestowing someone that kind of power. It makes losing them all the much worse.

Well, she didn't lose him. She still had him, kind of. But things weren't like before.

Before Grayson Welch's party.

Before the kiss.

Let's go back to that moment, shall we?

Cambria allowed Jackson's lips to linger on hers for only a moment before she pulled away. She stared at him, bewildered. It shouldn't have been that much of a surprise. Anyone with half a brain could've seen that coming. How Cambria did not was perplexing but understandable. It wasn't blind ignorance, but rather, a blissful naivety.

But suddenly, then, everything flashed before her. The night they met, her eyes moving from Theo to Jackson. How everything seemed to make sense except timing itself. How even the night of Grayson's first party she questioned everything, whether she made the right choice. And now, she wondered it again.

What if it had been Jackson instead?

What if it's been Jackson all along?

Back to the room. She stared at him, lips slightly parted, eyes locked on his. She tried to formulate words, but nothing came out.

Mistaking her silence for apprehension, Jackson mumbled, "sorry," and pulled away. She watched as he stood, searching for something. He located the water bottle, but it was empty. He stared at it, contemplating, then threw it in the bin. "I'll be right back," he said, then exited the room.