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Welcome to Sycamore Lane!

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Thank you to Fran for Beta Reading, and to Gemma and Pamela for pre-reading!

Chapter 1: The Snow Globe

December 1, Wednesday

New York, New York

Rosalie

For the first time all day, I'm surrounded by silence.

I've thought of nothing else since I stepped onto the train for my morning commute into the city. I'm craving a moment of peace to myself and some distance from the noise coming from every direction. As usual, what I actually want is non-existent – but I make sure the smile stays plastered on my face, and the weight I carry on my shoulders is hidden effortlessly beneath my crisp Dior suit jacket.

There is no time for setbacks. No time for distractions. No time to feel, well, pretty much anything until the end of the quarter. Then, and only then, will I be able to wipe my hands of this mess and enjoy a brief interlude of nothing until the next situation arises.

There will always be another situation.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

…Until the end of time.

For now, I sink into my chair, grateful for the reprieve of the four-inch heels I've subjected myself to. Enjoying the darkness of the room, I watch the gleaming lights of Manhattan dot the floors and desk in my office, and I close my eyes and revel in the silence.

Well, silence is relative in the city that never sleeps.

Outside and twenty stories below the floor-to-ceiling windows of the high-rise building I'm smothered inside for more hours of the day than I'd care to admit, the streets are bustling with tourists and holiday shoppers. As much as I would love to be anywhere than here, stuck inside my office at such a depressing hour in the evening, the thought of navigating my way through the crowds towards my train seems just as exhausting.

With a sigh, I turn away from the windows, opening the lid of my laptop as I decide to put in one more hour of work so I can avoid the chaos of the city. One more hour should do the trick and give my toes a little more time to regain their feeling again.

There is always work to be done; I'm not the director of sales on the east coast for nothing. Long hours may be necessary now, so they don't have to be later.

Unfortunately, I don't see a later anywhere in my future any time soon, and on most days, I can ignore the guilt and the exhaustion and push through like I've done my whole life. But some days, like today, I close my eyes and wish I were somewhere else.

Nowhere in particular; just anywhere but here.

The light from my computer comes to life, my eyes flying open at the intruding glare within the darkness of my office, and it's only when my eyes adjust to the differing lights that I see it on the corner of my desk.

Sitting there, inconspicuously, next to a pile of papers, yet still a beacon to my soul.

A snow globe.

He bought me a fucking snow globe.

Pinching my fingers against the bridge of my nose, I shake my head slowly in disbelief. Of course, he would – he always finds a subtle way to remind me how good he is. How much better he is than me to the core.

Inadvertently it reminds me how much I don't deserve him.

My husband is the most patient, understanding man I've ever met.

And I hate him for it.

Angry now, I slam the lid of my computer shut and grab what I need for my trek home to Hoboken. It's a short train ride, not long enough to quell the anger burning in my stomach as I sludge through the mixture of white and gray slush coating the streets of New York. There are holiday lights and songs hitting me from every angle, the joy in the air infesting the city like a plague. There are wreaths and trees and aromas of holiday sweets at every corner.

The gene that holds the love of the holiday season must have skipped me during gestation, and I find this time of year to be almost unbearable. Tired, hungry, and now pissed off all over again, the ride gives me time to stare at the snow globe in my gloved hand, my eyes filling with angry tears as I'm bombarded by memory after memory of its significance.

That's just like Emmett, though. Even when we're fighting, about nothing and everything, he always remembers.

It would make it so much easier if he would, just once, forget.

But that's not who he is. It never was, and it never will be. Emmett Cullen may hate the woman – the wife – I've become, but he'll never forget.

Ignoring the blast of Christmas music coming from one of the Alexas in our apartment, I make my way towards him without bothering to say hello. The red fury rolling off my body is palpable in the kitchen as I stare at my husband. He's in a pair of sweats and a gray thermal shirt, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed against his chest, preparing again for another battle to take place between us, right here in our apartment.

"This isn't going to make me change my mind," I state, placing the snow globe down onto the counter with a thud loud enough for him to take me seriously but not hard enough to break it. I step out of my heels, closing my eyes against the pain.

"Do you really think that's what this is?" Emmett scoffs, rolling his eyes. "A bribe to change your mind?"

"I would hope not," I reply coldly. "That's a little beneath you, Em."

"Well, you would know, right, Rosalie? Considering how well versed you are in dealing with things beneath you."

I take in a deep even breath, my mouth in a straight line as he hurls words at me I'm not sure he regrets anymore.

I shake my head at him in disbelief. "All this because I don't want to go to Forks with you for Christmas?"

"Yeah. That's what all this is about," Emmett laughs. "Forks."

"I told you last night," I remind him. "I can't go with you. There are too many –"

"I know. Too many deadlines. I remember," he replies, heading out of the kitchen with a box of Christmas decorations in his arms.

He is the Elf to my Scrooge, and it was funny in the beginning, but now I wonder if his love for Christmas has amplified because of my growing hatred towards his beloved holiday. I follow him into the living room, my hands on my hips as I struggle to understand how we're still arguing over the same thing from the day before.

"Your brother can't expect everyone to put their lives on hold to go across the country to an engagement party on New Year's Eve that he just decided to throw! And less than four weeks away, no less!"

"Jasper doesn't expect anyone to do anything," Emmett shakes his head and reaches into the box for a cord of white Christmas lights. "They just figured that since almost everyone would have the time off around the holidays anyway, it would be a perfect time to celebrate his and Alice's engagement."

"Yeah, well, not everyone has the time off around the holidays."

Emmett stops untangling the cords and looks over at me for the first time, his cold eyes matching my own. "Apparently not."

Not trusting the next words that might come out of my mouth, I turn on my heel and head towards the bathroom, eager to wash away the mess of the day.

No amount of scrubbing can undo the damage of my marriage, so as always, I table my feelings for now and lose myself in the hot water.

An hour later, as my bare feet echo against cold tile, I walk past the living room and the decorations Emmett always puts up each year on December 1st. He's already in bed when I slide next to him, his back towards me as he sleeps away feelings of his own, the chill on my side not going unnoticed to me.

I spy the snow globe sitting on my nightstand, and I sigh because I know how it got there. Damn him.

"Thank you, Emmett."

He doesn't answer back.

Each day we'll have a fun holiday-themed task at the end of each chapter. Tomorrow, slide on your coziest socks while you read. If you're on Facebook, make sure to join our group (Nerdy Lil Darlins) where there will be an opportunity to post your photo to the community! We also have so many teasers and fun things there, so definitely make sure you check it out!

We'll see you loves tomorrow for this daily posting story!