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CHAPTER 26: Birthday Prep
Last Updated:
2025-12-23 14:23:50
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The Holidate Pact CHAPTER 28: The Emergency Call
SLOANEDinner was Italian. Candlelight and white tablecloths. Jackson ordered wine. I wore his grandmother's watch and couldn't stop touching it.We talked about everything except what mattered. His shoulder therapy. My Morningside pitch next week. His students. My mother's Easter planning.Safe topics. Easy conversation.But underneath, tension hummed. Whatever he'd been about to say at the museum sat between us like a third person at the table.He drove me home at 10:30. Walked me to my door because that's what he always did now."Thank you," I said. "For today. For the watch. For everything.""Happy birthday, Sloane."We stood there. My keys in my hand. His good hand in his pocket. The hallway light buzzing overhead.He leaned in. I thought he might kiss me. Really kiss me. Not the contract-approved version.His phone rang.He pulled back. Looked at the screen. Frowned."Veronica."My stomach dropped. "You should answer it.""It's almost 11.""Something might be wrong."He answered
The Holidate Pact Chapter 27: Sloane's Birthday
SLOANEHe arrived at exactly 2 PM. I'd been ready since noon, changed outfits multiple times, settled on jeans and a sweater because everything else felt like trying too hard.The knock made my pulse jump.I opened the door. Jackson stood there in dark jeans and a grey henley, his sling gone. Just a slight stiffness in how he held his left shoulder."No sling," I said."Doctor cleared me this morning. Still sore but functional." He held out flowers. Peonies. Pink and white. My favorite. I'd mentioned them once, months ago. He remembered."Thank you.""Happy birthday."I put the flowers in water. My hands shook slightly. This was different from Valentine's dinner or New Year's party. No audience. No performance. Just us.The drive to the Art Institute took twenty minutes. He drove one-handed, easy and confident. We didn't talk much. The silence felt full anyway.He paid for tickets. We walked through the entrance, past the lions, into the cool quiet of the museum."Where to first?" he
The Holidate Pact CHAPTER 26: Birthday Prep
JACKSONMarch 8th. Four days until Sloane's birthday and I had nothing.My shoulder still ached when I moved wrong. Physical therapy twice a week. Ice packs every night. But that wasn't the problem keeping me awake at 2 AM.What do you give someone when everything's changed but nothing's been said out loud?I tried the obvious places first. Walked through Marshall Field's jewelry counter, my good arm tucked in my sling. The saleswoman showed me necklaces, bracelets, earrings. Everything looked wrong. Too flashy. Too impersonal. Too much like something Marcus would've bought her.I left empty-handed.Bookstore next. She loved reading. I stood in the fiction section for an hour, reading first pages, trying to find something she hadn't already discovered. Gave up when I realized I was overthinking a book.Flowers felt lazy. Chocolate felt generic. Perfume felt intimate in the wrong way.By March 9th, I was desperate enough to call my mother.She answered on the third ring. Morning in Mel
The Holidate Pact CHAPTER 25: Recovery
**THE MORNING AFTER**Sunlight filtered through unfamiliar blinds. I blinked awake, disoriented. Jackson's couch. His apartment. The throw blanket tucked carefully around my shoulders.The smell of coffee hit me. Badly made coffee.I sat up. My neck protested from the awkward sleeping position. In the kitchen, Jackson stood one-handed at the coffee maker, cursing under his breath. His sling hung loose, and he was trying to hold the carafe with his bad arm."Stop."He turned. His hair stuck up on one side. "Morning.""Let me." I crossed to him, took the carafe from his trembling hand. "Sit down before you hurt yourself worse.""I can make coffee.""Clearly." I nodded at the grounds scattered across the counter. "Sit."He sat. Watched me clean up his mess and start over. The coffee maker gurgled. I found bread, eggs, butter. Started cooking without asking if he wanted breakfast."You don't have to...""I know."The eggs sizzled. I glanced back. He was trying to adjust his sling with one
The Holidate Pact CHAPTER 24: The Tournament
JACKSON **MARCH 1-3: INDIANA TOURNAMENT** The tournament grounds smelled like fresh-cut grass and sunscreen. I adjusted my grip on my driver, waiting for my turn at the first tee. Three days of qualifying rounds. Three days to prove I still had it. "Nice swing yesterday." I turned. Dean stood there, golf bag slung over his shoulder, that knowing smirk already in place. "Thanks." "You told her yet?" "Told who what?" Dean laughed. "Don't play dumb. You told Sloane you're in love with her?" My grip tightened on my club. I didn't deny it. Couldn't, really. Not when Dean had known me since college, had seen me through Bridget and the mess after. "Thought so." Dean clapped my shoulder. "You're screwed, man." We played our rounds. Between holes, Dean kept talking. "You've never let anyone this close," he said on the seventh green. "Not even Bridget." I lined up my putt. "Bridget was different." "Yeah. Bridget wanted a fantasy. Some perfect guy who'd give her the dream life." De
The Holidate Pact CHAPTER 23: The Week After
February 15th. The day after Valentine's.I woke up to a text from Jackson.JACKSON: Morning. Yesterday was... a lot. You okay?I stared at it for ten minutes before responding.ME: Fine. You?JACKSON: Same. Busy week ahead. Tournament prep.ME: I have the Morningside pitch coming up. Drowning in work.JACKSON: Let me know if you need anything.ME: You too.Professional. Distant. Safe.We texted every day that week. Surface-level check-ins. Work updates. Nothing real.February 16th:JACKSON: How's the pitch prep going?ME: Slowly. You?JACKSON: Teaching all day. Exhausted.February 17th:ME: Survived a client call from hell.JACKSON: Want to talk about it?ME: Not really. Just venting.JACKSON: Fair enough.February 18th:JACKSON: Mrs. Henderson asked about you today.ME: What did you tell her?JACKSON: That you're busy. She wants to have coffee with "Jackson's lovely girlfriend."ME: That's terrifying.JACKSON: Little bit.February 19th:ME: My mother won't stop texting about Easter.
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