Dylan gave me an embarrassed smile at his dad’s speech. But as I took a quick sip of the delicious mulled wine, I felt a bit overcome at the generosity of Oscar’s words. There had been so many Christmas Days spent alone, or working, over the years. Sad memories too of that first Christmas in the hotel, yearning for my parents as I served Christmas lunch to guests, the feel of the delicate bracelet they’d sent me upon my wrist. ‘Christmas is a religious festival, Gwyneth,’ my aunt had barked when she’d noticed me crying. ‘Are you religious? No. So it’s just another day, another day to work and make money. The sooner you wrap your head around that, the better you’ll feel.’ So from that moment, I had wrapped my head around it. And I thought I was okay with it.
Until now.
I smiled up at the two men. ‘Thank you.’ Then I looked out at the loch, glistening beneath the moonlight. How strange to think nearly losing my life in that frozen lake had brought me here.
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