Under The Christmas Tree Robyn Carr Novels & Stories

Outside the window, heavy snow fell like a velvet curtain, wrapping the world in silence. Inside the room, firewood crackled in the fireplace. The dancing flames cast warm, shifting shadows on the walls, and the air carried the sweet scent of burning pine. Carter was down on one knee on the rough wool rug. In his hand, he held up a simple band ring, its surface lit by the fire. It was clear the ring had been around for years. “I know this isn’t very romantic. There are no roses or music.” He took a deep breath. His gaze fixed on me, as if I were the only light in this snowbound cabin.

"That’s the problem, Cass. We used to always have time for moments like this, but now… everything feels like an endless battle." Cassandra fell silent. Alexander was right. Her life was nothing like before—there was no space left to simply enjoy time with someone without burdens, without threats lurking in every corner of the city. But tonight, she wanted to forget everything. When they arrived at the city’s central park, Cassandra was instantly mesmerized. In the middle of the vast park, a giant Christmas tree stood tall, adorned with thousands of twinkling lights, casting a warm glow across the entire area. People strolled around, children laughed as they played in the snow, young couples

We reached the mansion and watched the decoration from outside; anyone could feel the festive aura emitting behind those doors would be cheerful. Trevor took out the wheelchair, and Ruben helped Raya to settle into her cart. She held my hand, and I knew she was getting uncomfortable with the judging peer from children her age. I gave a soft squeeze on her hand, reminding her she was a strong girl who came to enjoy her Christmas here. That thinned smile thickened as we headed inside. “Welcome,” Kathrine hugged Ruben. “Merry Christmas,” she wished Raya and gave her a tight hug.

She balanced the wine and her tote bag on the kitchen counter and turned to Cassandra. “It’s the weekend, sweetheart, let’s have some fun!” she yelled as she flipped on the music system and let Sabrina Carpenter’s upbeat song “A Nonsense Christmas” fill the room. Her big smile lit up her face as each syllable reverberated, and she and Cassandra sang along to the music : “You're my wish list Lookin' at you got me thinking Christmas Snowflakes in my stomach when we're kissin' And when you're comin' down the chimney, ooh, it feels so good

Many times she fought off the longing to drive past the Kensington house. Knowing her luck, she’d see him getting into the car with another woman and wish she were dead. As Christmas approached she agonized over a card. In the end she sent a Bruin Wood one. It wasn’t very Christmassy; it showed some of the children who’d stayed a couple of years before, laughing at the camera as they sat on New Forest ponies in the sun.

Christian organized a group to find the perfect Christmas tree—him, Marcus, Connor, Diana, and me trekking into the snow-covered forest. “This is actually a respectable pack activity,” Christian admitted, surveying the pine trees. “Because it involves forest skills?” “And teamwork.” “You're just trying to save face about liking Christmas.” “I don't like Christmas. I'm tolerating it for pack morale.” “Sure, Alpha. Whatever you say.” I wanted a giant tree. Christian preferred something “reasonably sized.” We argued while walking through pristine snow. “That one!” I pointed to a massive spruce. “That's twelve feet tall.”

Killian immediately shrugged out of his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, and she pulled it tight around herself, breathing in his scent. "I loved Christmas here," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was—they made it so special. So magical. Mrs Morales would start decorating the day after Thanksgiving. She had made us all hot chocolate and put on Christmas music–Mary's Boy Child by Bonney M precisely, and we'd spend the whole day turning the house into something out of a Hallmark movie. And Mr Morales, he'd read us the Christmas story every single night in December, counting down until the actual day. And Daryl would—" She couldn't finish. "I hated the smell of Christmas

My line of thoughts was disrupted when Carter chuckled and moved closer to me. “I would love to go to your house, Ryder. Afterwards we could go to the festival. I want to buy some gingerbread and mistletoe.” I smiled, but then my happiness died. Why would Carter want mistletoe? I heard he had broken up with Simon. Did he already have another boyfriend? I started fretting my lower lip between my teeth. “Are you spending Christmas at home?” I asked, feeling a bit guilty for the jealousy spreading through my senses.

If she missed this Christmas, he would prepare a grander one next year and the following year and so on and so forth until he found her again. Christmas week rolled in and Tynan had presents stacked beneath a very hastily purchased Christmas tree. He wasn't the best at putting up the tree decorations so it looked slightly lopsided. If Laura was here, she might have done a better job. The star at the top of the tree looked wonky but that could be Tynan's imagination. He wrapped some tinsel around the tree and wondered if he was doing this right. He chose pink tinsels hoping that it would flatter Laura but it looked wrong on the tree for some reason. There may or may not be too much pink tinse

Brandon, the photographer, shouted with exaggerated enthusiasm. Jordan shot him a look. "I'm a quarterback, not a model." "Today, you're whatever I need you to be," Brandon said, snapping away. "Now smolder. Christmas smolder. Give America something to thaw their stockings over." Jordan reluctantly did as instructed, giving the camera that alluring, brooding intensity millions of fans adored him for—though none of them realized how much of that look came from real emotional turmoil. Pain made good photography, apparently. "Perfect!" Brandon clapped. "Now pull April close and let her swoon all over you. We need chemistry—holiday romance! Sell the fantasy!"