Hi! Thank you for reading! Merry Christmas Eve everyone!

Christmas Eve 9:05 p.m.

It's almost a blizzard outside, which means that pushing Tobias' wheelchair - plus the bags, plus the Christmas tree, plus the crutches - through large piles of snowleaves me so breathless that I can barely talk the whole way back to Tobias' house. I manage to puff out a brief version of what happened in the corridor with Robert, to which Tobias cheers and laughs.

We finally, finally reach Tobias' apartment. There are few steps up to the big red front door, so I first helpTobias up and onto his crutches, and then support him until we open the door and he is safely in the hallway. By the time I've carried the tree and the shopping bags up, I'm all sweaty and gross, despite the freezing weather.

Inside the townhouse, I head into the living room to say goodbye to Tobias and notice that it has definitely not been decorated by Evelyn. Her usual soft and elegant muted style is not apparent here, but the room is still gorgeous with high, stark white walls, large colorfulabstract art hanging above an original black fireplace,and a massive blue sofa placed haphazardly on a red Persian rug.

"You want a drink?" Tobias calls from the kitchen. I head in to the small, neat kitchen to find him leaning on a crutch with one hand and using the other to pull a bottle of beer out of the fridge.

"No more alcohol for me," I say, still feeling the effects of all the vodka I drank in the pub, not to mention the adrenaline from my encounter with Robert and the odd sense of jubilation it gave me. "I should probably head off anyway," I say with a self-conscious wave. "Got to get those noodles, you know?"

"Ah, yes. Your noodles."

We stare at each other for a second, and I notice a little glisten of melting snow on his curls and his stubble. I have a strong urge to touch it.

Yes. Definitely no more alcohol.

Tobias reaches his hand out for my hand. I jump at his touch, feeling a funny feeling where funny feelings have not occurred for rather a long time. About a year, in fact.

"You're bloody freezing," he says, squeezing my hand a little. "At least a warm drink before you go. Hot chocolate?"

I peek at my watch. A hot chocolate does sound lovely and the supermarkets will still be open in twenty minutes. And, I don't know, going home alone to my apartment somehow doesn't seem quite as urgent as it did this morning.

"Sure." I smile. "Thanks. Can you manage?"

Tobias grimaces as he wobbles slightly on his crutches. "I might need a little help."

I pull off my snow-covered puffer jacket and, following Tobias' directions for where everything is, start to make the hot chocolate, boiling the milk in a pan and spooning the hot chocolate powder into a couple of big,handmade blue mugs. Tobias switches on a little vintage-looking radio. It's playing Christmas songs.

"Shit, shall I turn it onto another station?" he asks.

"No. No, it's alright," I say. Michael Bublé croons away and I find it charming, rather than annoying. Was Michael Bublé's voice always this melty? Why am I only just noticing it now?

"You forgot the whipped cream," Tobias points out.

"You have whipped cream? In your house, like generally?" I gape at him in disbelief.

Tobias gapes right back at me. "You don't? Hot chocolate is awful without whipped cream."

"I agree, but you usually only have whipped cream when you get hot chocolate in a café. It seems so over the top to have your own personal supply at home."

"Why would you settle for less than when it's so easy not to?"

I blink. He's right. Just because it's not the norm to keep whipped cream in your house at all times, doesn't mean it's wrong. In fact, it's an excellent idea. I vow to pick some up from the supermarket on the way home.

"Mind blown," I laugh, squirting a generous blob of cream on top of each drink and carrying the mugs through to the living room, while Tobias hops behind me.

I perch on the edge of the sofa and take a sip, licking the cream from the top of the mug. Tobias does the same and we catch each other's eyes while we're doing it, which is very awkward and also very... No, I'm just tipsy. And on some sort of emotional high from finally getting some sort of resolution with Robert.

I look away and place my mug back down on the coffee table.

Tobias does the same and scooches closer to me.

The pair of us say nothing. The air becomes thick with tension. I swallow hard because I am feeling things I did not expect to be feeling this morning when I woke up with the intention to get through this blasted day as quickly as possible.

I clear my throat. "So!" I say brightly in an attempt to cut short the awkwardness. "What did you get up to on that flight from New York? The whole crew were in love with you."

Tobias laughs and gives a faux modest shrug. "I'm just a very likeable guy."

"You are." I have to admit it. "But... that was insane. They were totally fawning. You must have done something other than be the most charming man on earth."

"You agree that I'm the most charming man on earth?"

"Shut up."

"Ha! No, we had some pretty bad turbulence on the plane and people were starting to panic. So, I bought everybody one of those mini tubs of chips. And then I led everyone in a rendition of Jingle Bells."

"Who does that?" I laugh. Who would even think to do that? Or have the confidence?

"A few of the other passengers thought I was a crazy person. They did not want anyone loudly singing Jingle Bells while they sped towards their collective deaths. But it worked. Everyone was distracted, even if they were a bit pissed off with me. I guess the crew were just grateful because they were panicking, too."

"You're odd," I say.

"So are you," Tobias replies.

"Why do you like Christmas so much?"

"Because I like to mess around and break the rules and have fun, and Christmas is the only time of the year when the rest of the world allows themselves to do that,too. And it makes them so happy! I wish the world were like that all the time, but I suppose if it were then it wouldn't feel quite so special at Christmas. All bets are off at Christmas, you know?"

I nod. I have to admit that I've been swayed by all the good cheer around me today. And by Tobias. Christmas might actually be rather lovely.

I smile to myself and am about to ask if I can get some more whipped cream when all at once Tobias leans over, grabs me, pulls me up and sort of plonks me on his lap so that I'm fully straddling him. I start to clamber off him at once, but quickly realize that no... this feels... nice.

"What are you doing?" I murmur.

"Should I not?"

"It's alright."

"I'm glad."

"Me, too."

"Good."

"Good."

I peer into his eyes and notice that they're even darker than normal, glinting with lust. He smiles. But this time it's not the big disarming grin he's been giving to people all day, but rather a slow, small smile full of promise and anticipation.

Oh, God. Tobias Eaton is sexy. He is so sexy. How did I not see it this morning? How have I spent the entire day with this man and not climbed onto his lap already?

"I've been thinking about you for almost a whole year,"Tobias tells me, his voice low and thick.

"What? I don't understand?"

"Since I came to visit my mum in the office just after the New Year last year."

"Wasn't I horrible to you that day?" I squint, trying to remember meeting Tobias that day. I have a vague recollection, but it's blurry.

"You were pretty rude, yeah. But you were also sad. I could see that."

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling regret for all of the times I've made him feel bad, including today.

"No, no. It was quite funny actually. You startled me. I asked you out. Do you remember?"

I gasp as it flashes back to me in a fuzzy memory. Tobias asking if I wanted to go grab a drink because I looked like I could do with cheering up. Shit. I'd not slept at all the night before and was in a terrible mood. And then I exclaim out loud as I remember what I'd said to Tobias in response.

"Oh, God. I told you to 'go cheer yourself up, you stuck-up mummy's boy.'"

"That's right. Well remembered."

I bury my head in my hands. Tobias takes my hands and puts them around his neck.

"I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. But I could see that you were somewhere else that day."

"Why didn't you come and see me a couple of months later?" I ask.

Tobias laughs. "When someone calls you a stuck-upmummy's boy, you don't rush to follow up. And anyway, I met Nita that evening, and we got together pretty much right away."

"I'm sad I didn't know you then," I say, thinking about how much more fun the past year might have been if I had.

"Today was the right day," Tobias says. "The right time."

And then he kisses me. And I kiss him back. I weave my hands into his curls and down onto his hot neck. He firmly presses his hands onto my lower back and brings me closer to him, as close as I can get. I feel the hardness in his jeans, and it makes me feel breathless. I want to rip his clothes off, rip his leg cast off. Have my way with him. Maybe Christmas Day could just be this? Me and Tobias kissing and, oh my God, moving against each other like this, full of anticipation and lust.

Oh, my goodness. I have never been this turned on in my life. Shit. Tobias! He squeezes my behind which makes me squeal in pain.

"What is it?"

"I fell over on the ice this morning and bruised my bum."

"Want me to kiss it and make it all better?"

I make a face at him in reply.

Tobias grimaces. "Jeez, sorry, that sounded incredibly cheesy. I'm a little nervous."

"Me, too."

"You are?"

"Well, I don't often find myself sitting on the laps of men I've only known for a day."

"Fair enough."

We laugh gleefully at each other and then Tobias pulls me close once more. "Come here."

I'm about to yank off my woolly sweater over my head when the doorbell rings.

"Ignore it," Tobias groans, burying his face into my neck, and oh my goodness, biting it a little.

I return to kissing him and then the doorbell chimesagain, followed by an insistent knocking.

"I'll just get it," I say, reluctantly pulling away from him, being careful not to nudge his leg.

'Nooooooo!' Tobias grumbles as I hop off him and head for the door. "I'm not even expecting anyone. Probably some drunk people at the wrong house. Hurry back!"

I head to the door, smiling with giddiness.

Opening it up, I see a woman standing there. A very beautiful woman with long black hair and bright blue eyes. She's dressed in an elegant, cream-colored coat and she's holding a fancy, vintage-looking suitcase.

"Oh!" she says, when she sees me, her face crumpling a little with despair. "Um... is Tobias here?"

My stomach sinks. This has got to be Tobias' ex, Nita .

Shit.

I reluctantly open the door wider and tell her to come in. She follows me into the living room, where Tobias jumps off the sofa in surprise. He's balancing on one leg, so I hurry over to support him in case he falls.

"Nita. What are you doing here?"

Nita carefully places her suitcase on the floor and takes a deep breath. "I've just flown over from New York. Tobias, I need to speak to you. We need to talk about this."

Tobias sits back down on the sofa. "We have nothing to talk about. Besides, I'm busy."

"I can see that," Nita hisses, throwing me an angry look even though I am technically the innocent party here.

"Hmmm... I should probably go," I say, my stomach churning at how awkward and uncomfortable this is.

"Don't go." Tobias says softly, reaching his hand towards mine.

"That's probably for the best," Nita says at the same time. "Tobias, I made a huge mistake. We need to sort this out. I'm still your fiancée."

I look at Tobias, who doesn't deny that Nita is still his fiancée. He looks totally torn.

Of course, he's torn. She cheated on him, not the other way around. Of course, he still loves her. He was all in. I'm the rebound. We're just two lonely people hooking up at Christmas because we need a distraction.

Dammit.

I quickly grab my puffer jacket off the coat hanger and run out of the house.

I wait for two minutes outside, half expecting Tobias to come after me and giving him a little extra time because of the whole broken leg thing. But he doesn't follow me out.

Stupid, Tris. Of course, he doesn't.

Looking at my watch, I jog to Mariano's, at least hoping to salvage my noodles.

Great. It is closed and shuttered. I yell at the sky in despair.

How can life go from being so bad to so good and then back to so bad all in one day?

"Merry Christmas!" a drunken passer-by cries as he stumbles past me.

Yes. Merry Christmas, Tris.

I get back to my apartment, my stomach rumbling from hunger. I pad through the quiet, prettily decorated living room and into the small glossy kitchen to put a slightly gnarly-looking potato into the microwave. That will have to do, I suppose. I eat the potato and when I've finished, I have a little cry because: a) the potato is the saddest thing I've ever eaten; and b) although it's better that Tobias and I never got started, I, to my surprise, really, really liked him - and fancied him - and I'm still horny; and c) let's face it, a good, cathartic cry has been a long time coming.

Once I've blown my nose and wiped my eyes of tears, I perch on the large windowsill and peer down at the excited revellers below. I think about how sad I've been this last year - grumpy enough that I've upset other people and taken myself away from anything that might give me joy. I placed so much of my happiness on a relationship that wasn't even real. I think about what I drunkenly whispered in Tobias' ear: that I wasn't sure I could be happy, or that I wasn't a nice person. I may have been a bit drunk when I said those things, but I know, deep down, that they were the absolute truth. And although I feel invigorated at my sense of closure with Robert, I know I've got more work to do to improve my self-esteem. A lot more work. A part of me suspects I'll always be a hardcore bitch. I'll definitely still keep up my shit list. And I will never, ever be someone who coos at babies and cake. But maybe I'll find a way to balance it all out, too. Learn to open up a little more. Make friends. To not hold onto grudges so hard or blame myself for my parent's divorce or the fact that they seem not to really care about me anymore now that I'm a grown-up.

I grab my laptop from the coffee table and plonk it on my knees. Opening it up, I Google for reasonably-priced local therapists. I take a deep and calming breath, save some numbers, and vow to contact them as soon as the holidays are over. I'm sick of being grumpy. Today was so much fun. I want more of that. I need more of that.

I snuggle myself onto the sofa and pull a woolly blanket over my knees. Picking up the remote control, I flick the tv on. Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. I grin to myself. I used to love this movie when I was a kid. It's not technically a horror movie, but a kid trying to escape two grown men who want to kill him is pretty horrifying, so I'll allow it.

I settle deeper into the plump cushions and watch Macauley Culkin outwit the newly named Sticky Bandits, laughing at the crazy hijinks and how beautiful New York looks. Soon enough, after all the walking through snow, the many vodkas, and the highs and lows of this ridiculous and memorable Christmas Eve, I drift into a deep, warm slumber.