Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter Text
Violet Sorrengail did not enjoy the holiday season in the best of times, but this year, this year it was downright torture. She always hated the forced holiday cheer, the over-the-top decor, and most of all, she hated that every fucking coffee shop in a ten block radius of her downtown apartment offered some aggressively-advertised offensive seasonal concoction. Who the hell drank a gingerbread latte with twelve ounces of sprinkle whipped cream?
Certainly not her.
Maybe it was because the holiday spirit reminded her too much of the life she’d left behind. Tourists actually flocked to her hometown of Navarre for its charming holiday aesthetic. It was even named Conde Nast Traveler’s Most Quaint Town on the Continent. Barf. She’d left that place and that version of herself behind long ago.
The nerdy girl who kept to herself, quietly observing everyone else. Never invited to join them. Her older sister Mira had been one of them, one of the popular kids. A legend. She was named valedictorian without even trying. Violet swore she never saw Mira so much as crack open a book. Yet somehow, her older sister aced all her classes. She was a leader, not a follower. Everything she did was effortlessly cool. Her freshman year, Mira petitioned for a spot on the football team. She was not interested in being a cheerleader, as Coach Emitterio suggested, no, she wanted to be cheered for.
And, she got her way. She was the league’s star kicker, clinching Basgiath High’s victory in the state championships with a fifty yard field goal. But Mira was like that. She was good at everything she did and afraid, it appeared, of nothing. Their mother couldn’t have been more proud of Mira’s accomplishments, and was not shy about making her pride known.
Violet on the other hand, epitomized her name in the worst possible way. The shrinking violet. Plagued with chronic pain and exhaustion, she preferred to escape into the stories of her fantasy novels. Who needed friends when you had books?
Her teachers loved her - especially those for English and History. They wrote her excellent recommendations for college, helping her earn that one way ticket out of the godsforsaken town she grew up in.
Violet thought she’d found love, or something like it, her sophomore year. With a senior named Halden Tauri. He was crowned Homecoming King four years in a row. He was tall and green-eyed and handsome. And popular. He told her she was beautiful. He’d stolen kisses from her under the bleachers, behind the school building, in the back of his car. She’d let him do other things to her too. And she’d enjoyed it, even if she felt a little dirty afterwards.
Turns out, though, he wasn’t actually interested in her. He and his twin brother Alic just had a bet going with friends - could she tell them apart in bed? Apparently, she could not.
The only thing she enjoyed about high school was staring at the back of Xaden Riorson’s head in AP English. She’d fallen hard for him during the two years they overlapped at Basgiath High. He was unavailable - and out of her league - but the one bright spot during her high school years was him. Studying with him for the AP Exams, learning from him, learning from each other. There was a quiet intellect hidden beneath his tough exterior. They also had an undeniable connection. She felt it, and she couldn’t help but hope he’d felt it too. Though, he’d never acted on it. He had a girlfriend who went to the school one town over. She was a cheerleader. Violet saw her at football games. She was striking. Xaden clearly had a type. And that type was not meek mousey bookworms.
But that didn’t stop her from crushing on him. She’d felt something for him, a spark that never died, since the first day she’d laid eyes on him. Xaden, a junior in a leadership position on the orientation committee, had been working the registration table, checking off new students for orientation as they crossed the proverbial parapet from middle school into high school.
He was easily the most exquisite boy she’d ever seen. Not that he paid her any mind. And not that she stood a chance with him anyway. Though Xaden had always been kind to her, he’d purchased her a new leatherbound notebook, in mint green, after he witnessed this asshole in her class, Jack Barlowe, run over her last one with his bike. Obviously on purpose.
“Here,” Xaden shoved it into her hands the next day. “It’s not a gift from me, I made the asshole Barlowe fork over the cash for it.”
He acted like it wasn’t a big deal that he’d gone out of his way to replace it for her. But to Violet, it was. She still had that notebook, tucked away with a few of her most prized possessions. She treasured it so much she couldn’t even bring herself to use it. She kept it packed in a box, along with a book of bedtime fables from her late father.
So when the rumor mill began churning with news of the bet between Halden and his friends that had left Violet heartbroken and humiliated, she always wondered if Xaden was responsible for the black eye Halden was sporting in school the following day, or if Xaden had anything to do with the quiet apology Halden muttered to her through his swollen lip.
But she’d never know. She never asked, and Xaden never brought it up.
So, determined to leave her past in the past, Violet Sorrengail only returned to Navarre once a year, on December 25th, and stayed for less than 24 hours. She’d exchange gifts and tolerate Christmas dinner with her family and that was it. Just an evening in with her disapproving mother and her over-achieving sister. Her father had died the summer before Violet started high school. Officially, he died of cancer, though Violet always assumed he’d died of a broken heart. Her brother, Brennan, had been killed in line of duty not even a year before her father passed.
So yeah, Violet Sorrengail hated Christmas. Because it reminded her of her past. Of her shitty hometown. Of pain. And of the shy girl who lacked confidence. A far cry from who she was today.
Because now, Violet Sorrengail was one of the most sought after literary agents in the Big City. And she was employed by the top firm on the Continent. Well, that is, until yesterday she was.
“Budget Cuts,” the head of HR, Amber Mavis, claimed. But Violet knew that was bullshit. She was a seven figure earner, having represented more than one author reaching the #1 spot on the Continental Times Bestsellers list.
No, this was personal.
Dain, Violet’s longterm boyfriend, had gotten Violet the job when she was just starting out, first as an intern, then, quickly proving herself, she was promoted into an assistant role. She put everything she had into her job, reading manuscripts and developing a real knack for identifying undiscovered talent.
Soon, she was outperforming the senior leadership team, and earning the attention of the CEO, Augustus Melgren for her undeniable skill and work ethic. Though, the most-tenured agents grew wary of her success. Agents like Gregory Aetos, her own boyfriend’s father.
What Dain hadn’t told Violet - probably because it was nearly as humiliating as her history with the Tauri twins - was that Amber Mavis was his ex-girlfriend. Violet had always wondered how a guy like Gregory Aetos ended up dating Amber, and now she understood exactly how they met. He’d stolen his own son’s girlfriend, or, more likely, the snake had used Dain to get to his much older, but much more successful father.
Gods that vile woman was an opportunist - and a shameless gold digger - if Violet had ever seen one.
It was a cutthroat world, that was for damn sure. And Amber was ambitious. Not to mention vicious. And both she and Gregory had it out for Violet. Amber, probably because Dain was now Violet’s boyfriend, despite the fact that an HR executive had dropped him like a bad habit when his father became an option. Gregory, because Violet’s rise in power at the firm clearly threatened him. So, when alleged budget cuts were cited as her reason for termination - with only two weeks severance - Violet was certain it was far more personal than professional.
They just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to kick Violet while she was down, could they? Because both Gregory Aetos and Amber Mavis knew Dain and Violet had broken up just one day earlier. Amber couldn’t hide her glee about both the breakup and the layoff.
Bitch.
And so that was how Violet Sorrengail found herself unemployed, unattached, and currently without an apartment (Dain’s name was the only one on the lease) on her way back to the small charming town she once called home four days early, on December 21st.
She couldn’t quite bring herself to go straight to her mother’s house. She needed to caffeinate before she went up against Lilith Sorrengail and faced the woman’s ceaseless judgement. Her sister Mira wouldn’t be here for another day or two, and the last thing Violet wanted was to deal with her mother’s disapproval for hours on end. Because unlike her older siblings, Violet did not enter the military out of high school. She went to college - on a full academic scholarship that she earned - and Lilith, retired now after a distinguished military career, resented her for it.
So instead, Violet drove straight to Main Street, deciding to get some work done in the local coffee shop. It was sickeningly adorable, all decked out for the holidays. Violet sighed and rolled her eyes as she took in the pine garlands draped across every window - adorned with perfectly pulled red and pink bows. It was attached to a bakeshop - fucking picture perfect.
Mairi on Main.
The shop’s name hung over the entryway on a hand-painted sign done up in large cursive bubble letters. Violet remembered the Mairi siblings. Liam Mairi had been in her class, his younger sister Sloane a year behind Violet. Liam had always been kind to her, but he was nice to everybody. Voted best smile in their yearbook if she remembered correctly.
Violet had always pegged him for a future in politics, the good kind of politician that genuinely enjoys taking pictures with babies and listening to his constituents. But small town life must have gotten to him too, she sighed, and last year she heard he’d taken over the family business with his sister. The name hadn’t changed, but the bakeshop was a new addition.
After a couple hours of responding to emails and assuring her aspiring authors they were still in good hands with her, she’d maxed out every minute of the two hours of complimentary wifi that came with her purchase - a single flat white which was remarkably bold - Violet begrudgingly closed her laptop and shoved it into her black Louis Vuitton tote.
She stood in line, deciding another flat white to go was in order, and was taken aback when Liam Mairi recognized her. Not just recognized her, came out from behind the register and gave her a hug.
“Violet Sorrengail! You look great - I haven’t seen you since graduation nearly a decade ago! But you’re an agent for famous authors or something now? In the big city? I always knew you’d do amazing things.” She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that sentiment so she just smiled politely. “Anyway, happy holidays! This one is on me.” He handed her the drink he’d just made her to go. In a branded paper cup, she noted, that was designed specifically for the holiday season, the shop’s logo printed on it in the shape of a wreath.
How fucking charming. Violet thought to herself. Though, Liam had always been sweet to her, just as he was now, so she swallowed back her usual grinchiness and instead said “Thank you, Liam. It’s lovely to see you too.”
“Will you be in town long?” He asked it so genuinely, as if he actually cared. “The Tavis’ throw an annual holiday party. Garrick and Imogen, I mean. They’re married now - a lot has changed around here since you left, but a lot has remained the same. Xaden always dresses up. If you’re still here on Christmas Eve, you should absolutely join us!”
Violet must have been hallucinating. Garrick, she was sure, didn’t even know who she was. And Imogen, she had never looked at Violet like she was anything more than the gum on the bottom of her shoe. It was sweet of Liam to think Violet would want to spend Christmas Eve with a group of people who probably hadn’t even thought of her existence, well, ever, let alone over the course of the past decade.
Violet also didn’t miss the way her heart skipped a beat when Liam mentioned Xaden.
Old crushes die hard, she guessed.
But then she remembered hearing Xaden had gotten engaged to Catriona, the cheerleader from one town over. Violet had been in college at the time, - her freshman year, her first year away - and she had made up an excuse not to return home that year. Her mother didn’t protest too hard.
“I’ll think about it,” Violet offered Liam a polite, but noncommittal reply. She had no intention of going to the party, but she didn’t want to appear rude.
“Please do! And don’t be shy about stopping by again. It was so great to see you, Violet. And I meant it when I said you look great!” And the thing about Liam was, she believed him. His warmth was contagious, but it was not enough to thaw the frostiness that Violet felt for the town she was now trapped in for the next few days.
Happy fucking holidays to me, she thought to herself as she stepped out of the cozy coffee shop and into the crisp late afternoon air.
Ugh, she hadn’t thought about Xaden in years. Well, that was a lie, she absolutely had. He was gorgeous, at least he had been a decade ago, there was no denying that. But she’d always felt an undeniable connection to him. One that she was sure he had to feel, because how could he not, the energy always buzzed in the air between them, like an invisible static, a persistent spark. But maybe that had all been her own wishful thinking.
He’d never acted on it. And besides, he was, as far as she knew, happily married now to a woman more beautiful than anyone who walked the halls of Basgiath High.
Honestly, fuck this place. Any warm holiday cheer that Liam had managed to infect her with drained from her body just as quickly as the lingering warmth of the shop’s heat. A gust of wind whipped down the sidewalk, and Violet cursed herself for leaving her down jacket back in the apartment she technically still shared with Dain.
She’d packed in a haste, eager to get away, though she wasn’t sure being stuck in the quaint holiday hellscape that was smalltown Navarre was any better. She took a swig of her coffee, suddenly annoyed at how fucking perfectly it was brewed. This place was like a winter fairytale to everyone on the continent, apparently, but her.
She was a good person. A hard worker. She put in long hours at the office, checked in on her friends, and even volunteered at the local library. And yet, she wondered what terrible thing she must have done in a past life to cause karma to come back to bite her in the ass in this lifetime.
She was looking at her phone, instead of the road - her first mistake - while power-walking towards her car.
She was calling Dain - straight to voicemail - he had been avoiding her calls and texts since their breakup. But they had to discuss, at a bare minimum, the logistics of untangling their lives. She was in the middle of leaving him a frustrated message. With her airbuds in - mistake number two - so she didn’t hear the horn blaring in time.
Violet looked up too late. The last thing she saw before her body slammed into the pavement was her location: the intersection of Tairn Street and Sgaeyl Ave.
Violet didn’t know what had just happened, but she swore, just before she blacked out, she saw an angel dressed in black swoop in and pull her out of harm’s way. Because she was pretty certain she’d blacked out. Her head was throbbing as her mind tried to understand how she wound up sprawled across the middle of the street.
A crowd began to gather around her. A siren wailed in the distance, growing closer with every keening cry. But the only thing that Violet could focus on was the pair of onyx eyes fixed directly on hers. They were steady, searching, and while his face was entirely unfamiliar to her, his eyes carried a sort of recognition that made her breath catch - like a story long forgotten.
Though Violet couldn’t recall why she was even on the road to begin with, and as the pain began to settle in, she struggled just to keep her eyes open, because gods, even that hurt.
“Are you okay, Violet?” The stranger asked. She must have hit her head harder than she realized, because he knew her name. At least, she assumed that was her name. Understanding with a sudden terrifying awareness that no, she wasn’t sure that was her name.
And yet the way he said it, like he was certain, triggered an understanding deep within her bones. Yes. Violet. That was definitely her name.
“I think so. But my head hurts.” She winced. “And who are you?”
Chapter 2
Summary:
Let's find out who those eyes, and that voice, belongs to.
Notes:
And we will be hearing from the man with the onyx eyes next. Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
She didn’t recognize him, Xaden realized. And why would she remember him? The guy who had an occasional study session with her in high school. The guy who kept a careful distance, because she was so obviously going places and getting tangled up with him would have been the worst possible thing for her.
And she had. Gone places, that is.
She’d left town right after graduation and, as far as Xaden was concerned, hadn’t looked back.
But google was free, and he’d gotten more than his money’s worth periodically checking in on her accomplishments. Ivy League education, Big City address, and a noteworthy name in the literary world.
She was gorgeous, even now, sprawled out in the middle of the street staring back at him in confusion. But she always had been beautiful. And not in an overt way, she had a quiet sort of beauty. One that was warm, and captivating, and impossible, for him at least, to ignore. But it was her intellect, her wit, that incredible mind of hers that had him still thinking about Violet Sorrengail nearly every night a full decade later.
And here she was, in his arms. Literally. But not the way he’d pictured. Not the way he’d fantasized she would be. Though, despite the circumstances, something about her, cradled in his lap, just felt right.
But this wasn’t right. First, he needed to make sure she was okay. She’d been hit crossing the fucking street at the centermost point in town, the intersection of Tairn St. and Sgaeyl Ave. Likely black ice. Nasty stuff, and he’d seen his fair share of accidents involving that this year.
“You think you’re okay? Or you know so.” He offered Violet a warm smile as he gazed down at the dazed woman in his arms, hoping maybe she’d recognize him once she gathered her bearings. She’d just hit her head for Amari’s sake. “I’m Xaden Riorson, a paramedic with the Navarre Fire Department. You’ve just been in an accident, hit your head. We’re going to get you checked out.”
The siren that had been wailing in the distance was now upon them. The ambulance from the station - the fire department never ceased to be the first to respond. “Lieutenant Riorson,” Nyra Voldaren, the driver of our ambulance jumped out of the cab, headed in their direction. Xaden chuckled at the use of his formal title, anyone else from the station would have just called him Xaden, but she was all business, which was probably why she outranked him at the station.
“Captain Voldaren,” he returned her greeting as she made her way towards them.
“Arrived as quickly as I could after the call came in. Tavis and Durran will be on their way shortly, but they’re dealing with a situation involving Ridoc Gamlyn and his cat again. Evidently they were playing hide and seek and Aotrom got himself into a tree he couldn’t get out of. Though if you ask me, which you didn’t, he just wanted to play damsel in distress in front of your cousin again. Asked for Lieutenant Durran specifically.”
Xaden groaned. Who in Dunne's name plays hide and seek with a cat? He couldn’t stand the goofy man who’d moved into town a few years ago. Even more infuriating, Ridoc Gamlyn moved here to open up an ice-cream shop on Main Street that sold the best ice-cream Xaden had ever tasted. Xaden often sent his friend Liam, who owned the coffee shop next door, to pick up a pint of his favorite flavor, double chocolate fudge cake swirl, to avoid having to interact with the over the top shop owner. Ridoc was beloved by most of the town, but something about his overly flirtatious and somewhat flippant nature rubbed Xaden the wrong way.
“I think we have this situation under control,” Xaden nodded towards Violet who was already pushing herself up into a seated position and, much to his disappointment, out of Xaden’s lap.
“Can you help me get home?” Violet stared back at him, an expression akin to panic swirling in her wide, hazel eyes. He didn’t miss the way her pupils were dilated, slow to adjust, or the way her eyes struggled to follow his movements.
“First things first, Violet. We’re going to get you checked out.” He was pretty sure she had a concussion, that much was clear. He helped Violet to her feet, and led her to the rear of the ambulance.
Notes:
We hope you're enjoying this little story. I wonder what is going to happen next, will she remember him? Or will that bump on the head keep her in the dark?
Chapter Text
The handsome stranger had a name. Xaden Riorson. Lieutenant Xaden Riorson, a paramedic with the Navarre Fire Department to be exact.
And he’d just checked her out in the back of his ambulance. Unfortunately, he had checked her out in the literal, medical sense. His conclusion - she’d hit her head pretty badly - she had a concussion and would need to be seen by a doctor at the hospital due to the fact that she was showing some pretty clear signs of amnesia.
That would explain why she couldn’t remember her name, her address, or where she’d parked her car. Or if she’d even had a car.
And that was precisely how Violet found herself riding in the back of an ambulance to Navarre General Hospital for further evaluation. Accompanied by the sexy paramedic who looked like he belonged on the Hollywood set of a television show, rather than real life.
If this Xaden guy was going to be further evaluating her, she’d have no problem with that. Unfortunately, though, he appeared to be a gentleman. Strictly professional. He was probably married to his high school sweetheart, thought Violet. These smalltown heroes usually were.
But damn, was the man gorgeous. Swoon-worthy, even. She could see the muscles of his honed biceps straining against the fabric of his black, standard-issue EMS jacket. She was shamelessly staring, she knew that, and she felt the blush creep along her cheeks when he caught her gawking.
He hadn’t looked away. Instead, he’d held her gaze and smirked. And that, Violet decided, was both infuriating and incredibly sexy. And dangerous.
A gentle flame of attraction flickered to life as she locked eyes with the handsome paramedic. Violet couldn’t deny the pull she felt towards him, and who could blame her? The man was objectively one of the most exquisite creatures she’d ever laid eyes on.
At least she assumed as much.
And there was something about him - perhaps it was in the way he looked at her, curious, but unguarded, that unsettled her. It made her stomach flutter, yes, but she also couldn’t shake the distinct feeling that she knew him, a cloying sensation that tickled the back of her mind.
And all logic and reason dictated that surely she must know this man, since he clearly knew her. He’d called her by her name. So she didn’t question it when he remained at her side in the Emergency Room. Or when he’d called her mother on the ride to the hospital, assuring Lilith as he referred to her, that Violet was in great hands.
And Violet was grateful for him - when they’d entered the ambulance bay, he stepped down first, then helped her follow. His grip was firm but gentle, and she felt the heat of his touch on every place his fingers made contact with her body as he guided her out of the ambulance. The bay swallowed them both in flashing light and overwhelming sound, but all she saw was him - she didn’t move without him beside her, a quiet, constant support who never let her go.
“I’m concerned about a head injury with memory loss,” she heard Xaden say to the nurse who greeted them in the entryway. “I’d appreciate it if you could page Dr. Cardulo. Tell her it's a personal request from Lieutenant Riorson.”
“Of course,” the nurse replied swiftly. Violet didn’t miss the way the woman’s cheeks flushed and eyes fluttered in Xaden’s presence. Violet couldn’t even blame her - evidently, the sexy paramedic had that effect on women. And, Violet realized, she herself was not immune.
But the handsome stranger never left Violet’s side, guiding her to an open bed in the Emergency Room, one that the nurse had directed them to. He was a medical professional, Violet reminded herself. This was his literal job.
And yet … there was something about the way he remained close that made her chest feel unexpectedly warm. She knew it wasn’t just relief, but a strange sense of recognition. A persistent tug at the edges of her memory that she couldn’t quite reach. She blinked at him, searching his face, desperate for a clue, any clue. And though she couldn’t place him, couldn’t name him, a certainty settled over here - she had always known him, and seemingly, he had always known her.
And he waited with her, silently, patiently, until Dr. Imogen Cardulo arrived. The pink-haired doctor specialized in cases like Violet’s: amnesia, memory loss. And he waited with her still, for what seemed like hours, for Violet’s diagnosis. No brain bleed. No permanent damage. The amnesia would likely only be temporary, Dr. Cardulo assured them, but how long, she really couldn't say. Though the doctor confirmed Violet did, indeed, have a concussion. A nasty one.
“Rest and sleep are essential,” Dr. Cardulo told Xaden as if Violet weren’t sitting right there. The doctor was already shifting into clinical focus. “But she needs supervision - overnight and throughout the day. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be critical.”
The doctor’s gaze flicked to Xaden.
“I can stay with her,” he said immediately.
Violet took note of the way Dr. Cardulo’s mouth turned up in a knowing kind of smile as she raised a brow at the paramedic.
“Okay then. But if anything changes - confusion, nausea, worsening headache… bring her straight back. Otherwise, rest.”
“Understood,” Xaden nodded in Dr. Cardulo’s direction before the doctor signed off on her paperwork, clearly eager to move on to her next patient. “And tomorrow, Xaden, you might consider showing her around town. Sometimes familiar places can trigger memories.” The doctor gave Xaden a knowing look, accompanied by what Violet could only describe as a sly smile. There was a familiarity between them, Dr. Cardulo and Xaden, and that little flicker of attraction Violet felt flared possessively before catching green with envy.
You really don’t have to do this,” Violet mumbled to Xaden, softer now and feeling somewhat self-conscious. She couldn’t tell whether it was the absence of her memory - or the sudden intensity of his gaze - that made her feel that way.
“I know,” he replied. “But it’s not a problem.”
There was something in his tone that felt like coming home without knowing why. She studied Xaden’s face again, searching for a memory that evaded her, refusing to surface. Gods, this was so frustrating.
“Have we met before?” she finally asked him.
“Yes,” he said after a beat. “A long time ago.”
And somehow, despite the blank spaces in her mind, Violet felt certain that was significant.
Notes:
We hope you're enjoying this story as much as we are enjoying writing it! As always, your comments and kudos give us life!!
Chapter 4
Summary:
And how is our paramedic handling all of this?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Xaden took Violet home that night, and true to his word, he stayed. Stayed with Violet through the night - she in the guest room and he down the hall, of course. She shouldn’t be alone, Imogen’s words played like a record in the back of his mind. And why was she alone? During the holidays, no less. It wasn’t like she would remember if he asked her, not that he had any right to.
He’d finally managed to update her mother, Lilith, while Violet was sent for her CT scan. She had no idea Violet had come back to Navarre early, she’d told Xaden. Lilith was on vacation, the first since her retirement, with her boyfriend, a younger mysterious man named Courtlyn King that he’d seen around town once or twice. He wasn’t from Navarre, though.
Lilith would be back on Christmas morning, when she expected Violet and her boyfriend, Dain, to arrive for the day, as they had for the past four years. She was unaware, she told Xaden, of any change in plans.
Boyfriend.
The word hit Xaden like an unexpected punch in the gut - stealing both his breath and his balance. His chest tightened, his jaw locking as he swallowed against the sudden ache, forcing his voice to remain steady.
Of four years.
So it was serious, then.
With a dramatic sigh, Lilith begrudgingly offered to come home, cut her much-anticipated vacation short, if Violet was truly in duress. The doctor thinks she’s going to be just fine, Xaden was quick to assure Violet’s mother. Why had he done that? He had no business assuming control of her care. Though, given Lilith’s apparent lack of concern, Xaden told himself Violet would be in better hands with him. Besides, Lilith was away in the Isles, it would probably take her a full day to get back anyway.
Instead, Lilith gave Xaden the phone number of the hotel - located on a remote, virtually private island without a cell signal - where she and Courtlyn would be spending the next two days. She instructed Xaden to call her there if Violet’s condition worsened, but that it sounded like he had things under control.
And that is how Violet Sorrengail ended up back at Xaden Riorson’s home. For the night. He assumed any luggage was in her car. His colleagues back at the station would track it down overnight. Run the plates. Confirm it belonged to her. Navarre was a small town, so finding it should come easily.
But for the night, Xaden took Violet home to his house. He lived alone. His home was small, but tidy. He took immaculate care of it and prided himself in having the nicest home in the neighborhood of Navarre called Aretia - still within the town’s limits, but on its outskirts. The drive from Main Street took a whole six minutes. The drive from Navarre General Hospital, about 12.
He gave her one of his shirts to sleep in, made her a cup of camomile tea, and checked on her periodically throughout the night. She slept soundly, and he was comforted by the visible rise and fall of her chest as she slept, curled up on her side, her back facing the doorway as her long, wavy locks splayed out on the pillow.
She didn’t snore exactly, but made an adorable sound with each intake of breath, synonymous with the deepest sort of slumber.
Not that he noticed. Not that he listened for it from where he lay in bed, the door to his own room open in case she woke up, needing anything.
And when she woke up, sore, but alert, Xaden suggested they spend the morning doing exactly what Dr. Cardulo had suggested. He told himself it was purely practical. Violet needed familiar sights. Fresh air.
That it also meant spending the day beside her - watching her rediscover a town she no longer remembered - was beside the point. Entirely.
They started with breakfast at the town’s only coffee shop: Mairi on Main. Thanks to the addition of the attached bakery, it always smelled like cinnamon and chocolate in December. He ordered his coffee. Black, same as always.
Liam greeted Violet with enthusiasm. Apparently she’d come into his shop the day before. Before the accident. Before she’d forgotten her own name. Xaden explained to him what had happened and watched as Liam’s eyes grew wide with concern. It was genuine, Xaden knew. He was easily the nicest guy in town.
Liam didn’t miss a beat, re-introducing himself to Violet, hoping to help jog her memory and asking if she’d like another flat white. Violet responded by asking him what his favorite holiday drink was, and, based on his recommendation, she ordered an eggnog latte. And when she brought the mug to meet those perfect rosebud lips of hers, she wrinkled her nose adorably as if deciding whether she trusted it. Not that Xaden was paying attention. But when she smiled after the first sip, pleased and letting out a small laugh of surprise, something in his chest tightened, but he pushed the feeling away, pretending her presence didn’t affect him anymore.
Violet Sorrengail may not have remembered that she had a boyfriend, but Xaden refused to allow himself to mistake her amnesia for permission.
Dain.
Against his better judgement, he’d googled Violet Sorrengail and Dain - he didn’t know the man’s last name - and stumbled across a few high society articles from those Big City publications he couldn’t unsee. Violet in a fitted evening gown, looking sophisticated and sharp, and stunning standing next to a man who absolutely looked like he belonged on her arm. Not the other way around.
A man with rough, subtle stubble. Reddish brown hair. A perfect jawline. Classically handsome. A living Ken doll in a tailored tux.
Xaden pushed the image out of his mind. Focusing instead on the chocolate croissant in front of him.
He walked her through town after breakfast, pointing out the ice-cream shop with its frosted windows, the square strung with white lights that glittered even in daylight, and finally the bookstore with the crooked sign that had been hanging askew for at least the past ten years. She paused there, gazing at the bookstore like it was her North Star. Christmas had settled into the town like it always did - charming, intentional, and impossibly perfect. Violet took it all in with wide-eyed wonder, as if she were seeing it for the first time.
And maybe she was.
He felt it, like a persistent static, the way the air felt electric between them in the quiet moments. In the way her face lit up when she smiled, and how laughed too easily. In the way she tilted her head when she listened to him, like his words actually mattered to her - probably more than they should. In the way her gaze lingered on his face just a beat too long - curious and warm and searching - before dropping, for just the briefest of moments, to his lips.
Xaden didn’t act on any of it, no matter how desperately he longed to reach out and touch her, to caress her cheek, to hold her hand. But he kept his hands to himself, kept his tone professional. Kept reminding himself - firmly, repeatedly - that she had a boyfriend. Dain. Even if she didn’t remember him. Even if the man’s name still landed like a blow every time it surfaced in his mind.
Violet Sorrengail was off-limits.
And yet.
When they crossed an icy stretch of sidewalk near the town square, circling back to Main Street for an afternoon hot cocoa, Violet’s hand slid instinctively around his arm. Just for balance. Just for a few steps. Xaden steadied his breathing and slowed his pace, focusing on the careful placement of his boots on the pavement instead of the warmth of her fingers, or the way she fit there like that space, on his arm, had always been meant for her.
She looked up at him then, eyes bright, and he felt something shift in the air between them. Recognition without memory. Trust without reason.
Xaden smiled back. But it felt careful and entirely too practiced at wanting what he couldn’t have. He would do this right. He would keep her safe. He would not cross lines.
But as morning gave way to afternoon to evening - as the Christmas lights flickered on behind her and she smiled at him like that, he suspected the day had already changed them more than it should have.
He had to get her home, before he did something stupid.
Like kiss her.
Notes:
Some say hi to us on instagram! @SaraNovaWrites and @pillow_fanfics. We love hearing from all of you!
The plot is thickening ... what do we think this evening, or tomorrow will bring? And when will Violet get her memory back??
Chapter Text
Snow began to fall as Violet and Xaden made their way towards his car. He hated to cut their evening short, but he had to work tonight, he told her. She wouldn’t be alone though, he promised. His friend Liam, whom she’d met at the coffee shop - would stay the night.
He told Violet that he trusted Liam implicitly. And, for whatever inexplicable reason, having known Xaden for barely 24 hours - well as far as she was concerned - she trusted him. He was taking her back to his house, her car had been located, and was parked out front, having been towed there. Xaden didn’t have a key to her mother’s house, nor did Violet, but he assured her she was welcome to stay with him until her mother returned from vacation.
That was one of the perks of coming from a small town, Violet thought. That everyone knew everyone, at least on some level. Except she, for now at least, knew no one.
And she couldn’t explain it, but she felt at home at Xaden’s. In a world so suddenly unfamiliar to her, she was happy to be returning to the only place here in Navarre that was, well, familiar. The impeccable little home on the outskirts of town that felt cozy and lived in, despite being so tidy she could only describe it as pristine.
And so they made their way towards his car as the snow fell gently from the sky. Tentative at first, then steadier, soft flakes catching in her hair and on the dark shoulders of his wool jacket. She could feel Xaden watching her as she paused, releasing her grip on his arm to look skyward and twirl beneath the flakes as they swirled and danced around her, laughter spilling free as she tried to catch drops of snow on her tongue.
“Careful,” he said softly, a teasing warmth threading his voice.
When she looked back at him - caught in the intensity of his onyx gaze, the quiet beauty of his smile - she stilled. A shiver raced along her spine, and this one, she knew, had nothing to do with the cold. The night, the town, Xaden, all of it felt different all of a sudden. It felt magical. Bathed in the soft glow of the garland-wrapped streetlamps, Violet felt as though she were encapsulated inside a picture-perfect snowglobe with Xaden.
And she smiled.
Their perfect day replaying itself in her mind as she stood there, staring at the handsome paramedic who had quite literally just fallen into her life - well, it was technically the other way around, she supposed. Violet wondered if they had a history, and what that might have been. He had given her just enough space to feel somewhat independent, but his constant presence still felt close, almost protective.
She basked in the day’s memories, her only memories. The coffee shop, the lights, the bookstore, the taste of Liam’s eggnog latte. The way she’d laughed without thinking. The way Xaden had watched her, the way he was still watching her right now, like he was committing to memory something he was afraid to lose.
Violet’s pulse skittered as she took a step towards him, realizing, too late, that she’d placed her foot onto an icy patch of sidewalk. But it wasn’t the near-fall that stole her breath and sent her heart racing. No, it was Xaden’s firm grip at her waist, she realized, steadying her before she even realized she was falling.
They stopped like that - too close, breath visible in soft white clouds between them, snow settling in the sliver of space they didn’t quite close. She looked up at him and felt it again, that pull, like a memory hovering just out of reach.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, just briefly, as if by accident. Time stretched. The charge that had been pulsing in the air between them grew stronger, heavier and for one breathless second, Violet was certain he was going to kiss her.
She wanted him to.
The thought landed fully formed, and just as her eyes began to flutter closed in anticipation, he pulled back.
“Damnit,” he growled, so quietly it sounded as though it were more to himself than to Violet.
“What?” Violet barely managed to form the word as the wind sent loose strands of hair across her face, obscuring her view of him. Her fingers still clutched the fabric of his wool coat, his arm was still wrapped firmly around her waist.
And as if on instinct, Xaden’s free hand reached out and brushed those loose strands free, his hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary as his thumb dragged gently along her rosy cheek.
“Touching you was a bad idea.” Xaden stepped back farther, shaking his head. His movement was careful, controlled, breaking the moment before it could become something they couldn’t take back.
“The worst,” Violet breathed. She hardly knew him. She didn’t even know herself, not right now. He was right, she was glad one of them was in control.
He groaned, and Violet nearly melted at the sound - it caused a sudden heat to like flow like lava through her veins.
“Kissing you would be a cataclysmic mistake.” Maybe it was lust, maybe it was the magic of the day, but Violet did not agree with his assessment.
Gods, what she wouldn’t give to hear him groan like that again. He wanted this. And so did she.
“Calamitous,” she inched closer as she said it. She didn’t mean it. They both knew it.
The inches between them felt like kindling, ready to ignite at the mere suggestion of fire, despite the chill in the air that surrounded them.
“We both might regret it.” Xaden shook his head, but there was a hunger in his eyes that spoke louder than his chivalrous words did.
“Naturally,” Violet drew closer still, testing Xaden’s control. She knew this was dangerous. She knew she was playing with fire, yet the primal attraction she felt to him was unreal. It was undeniable. And though later she might come to regret this decision, she didn’t care. Regretting it later didn’t change the fact that she wanted this now. That was a problem for future Violet.
His gaze dropped to her lips. As his grip around her waist tightened.
“Fuck it.” Before she’d even processed his words, his mouth was on hers.
The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative. But when Violet felt the press of his tongue at the seam of her lips, she moaned into his mouth and his fingers found her hair.
The kiss was hot and insistent and it was everything that Violet had imagined it’d be. It overpowered every one of her senses, narrowing her world to nothing but this moment, this kiss, this man and the feel of his tongue as it slid against hers.
And just as quickly as the kiss consumed her, a memory flashed across her vision - no details, no faces, just a row of lockers, a mint green notebook, and a feeling of insecurity accompanied by the unmistakable sense that this attraction to Xaden wasn’t entirely new. Violet drew a breath as it slipped away, shaken by the certainty it left behind.
And as if the divine had intervened, at that exact moment, a sudden boom rumbled in the sky above as they drew apart.
Lips swollen, chests heaving, they stared at one another, irrevocably changed. Standing, she realized, at the same spot where their journey began, at the intersection of Tairn St. and Sgaeyl Ave.
“Thundersnow,” Xaden looked upward towards the sky in amazement. “It’s been ages since that’s happened.”
Violet still hadn’t processed that kiss. Or that flash of a memory. But what she did know, was that the moment was over.
“Let’s get you home, Violet.” He forced out the words through gritted teeth, and she couldn’t tell if the regret his voice carried was because he’d kissed her, or because he had to leave her for work.
The snow continued falling as he walked her to his car, opening the door for her like the gentleman he’d more than proven himself to be, and Violet climbed in with her heart racing, her mind reeling, and knowing with startling clarity that whatever this was between them, felt more dangerous than everything she was forgetting.
Chapter 6
Summary:
Wouldn't you like to know what is going on in our handsome paramedic's head?
Notes:
No beta this chapter - we die like Liam. I mean, Varrish?
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The six minute ride back to his house was torturous for Xaden with Violet sitting barely a foot away in the passenger seat. The way he wanted to reach out and touch her. To hold her hand. To kiss her again.
Thank gods he was working a 24-hour shift, because Xaden wasn’t sure he could trust himself to spend the night in his house with Violet just down the hall.
The way she’d looked at him. The way she’d felt in his arms, like she was meant to be there. The way his body hummed with that sublime electric awareness when her lips finally met his.
It was a kiss he’d been carrying with him for over a decade. One he’d imagined countless times, never allowing himself to believe it could be real. And yet, it had just happened. It was real. And it was softer, deeper, and more devastatingly perfect, than he’d ever imagined it could be.
He could have had more tonight. He knew it in the way she leaned into him, in the way her breath stuttered against his mouth. He could have had her body. Maybe even a fragile piece of her heart.
But she wasn’t his to take. Or to touch. Or to love.
She belonged to someone else.
The kiss was a stolen one. And he hated himself for it.
He shouldn’t have touched her. He shouldn’t have kissed her.
She wasn’t his. And as soon as her memory came back, she’d realize this too. So he let the moment end, even as it broke something inside him to do so. Because loving her had always meant choosing restraint. And tonight was no different.
But tonight his control had slipped.
He’d violated her trust, a trust that she’d offered him willingly and without hesitation. And he hated himself for that even more than he hated her stupid boyfriend.
Dain.
It was a lapse in judgement. A momentary loss of control. And it would never happen again.
He should have told her how he really felt so many years ago. Because then maybe, just maybe, she’d have chosen him too.
But that would have been selfish. Because she’d always been destined for more than a life in Navarre could offer her. And she’d found it, carving out a name for herself in the Big City. She had it all. A successful career. A Ken Doll of a boyfriend. A new life far away from here.
So he dropped Violet off at his house, with the promise that she wouldn’t be alone. Liam would be there soon.
And as Xaden drove to his shift at the station, Violet’s kiss still burned hot on his lips, no matter how hard he tried to extinguish it. He pulled into the lot and cut the engine, but for a long, silent moment, he didn’t move. With his eyes closed, he lifted his fingers to his mouth, closing his eyes and savoring the first - and what he promised himself would be the last - time he kissed Violet Sorrengail.
Notes:
Xaddddddddyyyyy!!! We promise this is not an angsty story, but also, sometimes just a sprinkle (or two) is necessary. Even in one of those classic Hallmark films.
Chapter Text
Violet spent the first thirty minutes after Xaden dropped her off, trying - and failing - to unlock the shattered screen on her iPhone. She silently cursed herself for clearly being one of those people who refused to activate Face ID - at least, that’s what Xaden had assumed was the case when he’d offered his help. She’d have driven herself to the nearest Apple Store to get it sorted, but, until 30 minutes ago, she was without a car. Not to mention, Xaden had checked on her behalf, and the nearest store was back in the Big City, almost four hours away. Of course.
She was curious, yes. She’d wanted answers. Memories. Proof of who she was. But after today with Xaden, she found herself wanting only the feeling of him beside her again. His arm to hold. His lips on hers.
Gods, that kiss. It felt less like an impulse and more like a continuation of something inevitable that had been set in motion long ago. And to be so consumed by a single kiss? That couldn’t be normal. Then her sudden flash of a memory, the way he so abruptly pulled away, insisting he take her home. It gave her the uneasy sense that Xaden regretted it.
Had it felt it too? That electric chemistry, the way that their kiss and narrowed the entire world to nothing but that moment, the feel of the press of his lips against hers, the electricity coursing through her veins, imbuing every place they touched with a charged kind of heat that made Violet feel as if she might combust.
From just a kiss.
A perfect, delicious, mind-altering kiss.
Her wandering mind was abruptly interrupted by a loud knocking at the front door. Just as Xaden had promised, Violet found Liam, the friendly barista, at Xaden’s door when she rose to answer.
He stood there smiling, silhouetted in the pale light of the setting sun - which had just dipped below the snow-kissed tree line - all that remained was a pinkish orange glow that complimented the rosy hue painted across Liam’s cheeks.
“I come bearing gifts,” he smiled, handing Violet a large white bow-wrapped box in greeting. “Well, not gifts, exactly, but leftovers. I saw how much you enjoyed your almond croissant this morning, so I brought you the two that didn’t sell today. And a cheese biscuit, my personal favorite.”
“Thanks,” Violet responded, taking the box from Liam and realizing it contained plenty more pastries than he initially let on. She couldn’t believe he’d noticed the way she’d savored that croissant. Almond. Her favorite. Somehow, though she wasn’t quite sure why, she knew this about herself.
Liam smiled and held out a hand, as if he meant to shake Violet’s. His gesture stopped her short. For just a flicker of a moment, the room shifted - fluorescent light instead of lamplight, lockers instead of bookshelves, linoleum tiles instead of hardwood floors. She saw the same hand, offered years ago, and herself hesitating before taking it. She saw his smile, open and unguarded and unassuming - kind and genuine. The image vanished as quickly as it came, leaving Violet’s breath caught in her throat.
She knew Liam.
At least, she used to.
She kept the fleeting memory to herself, unsure what it meant, or who he’d been to her. But he was here with her now, because, she told herself, he cared. She knew he did. And she couldn’t explain how she knew that, she just knew he did.
And so did Xaden.
She sighed, looking sheepishly around the living room for a moment before composing herself.
“Well, come in,” she finally said, as it seemed Liam was waiting for an invitation to cross the threshold.
And so they spent the evening together, making a dinner out of sugary, buttery carbohydrates while Liam filled the quiet with stories about the town, running the coffee shop, and his friends’ day to day happenings - a glimpse into the lives of the people Violet had this nagging sensation she ought to remember.
Eventually, Liam started a fire and turned on a holiday movie, National Lampoons Christmas Vacation, which had them both laughing until tears rolled down their cheeks.
Violet and Liam filled the evening in comfortable companionship - stitched through with the strange, growing sense that pieces of her past were closer than she’d realized. And Violet clung to that feeling, not wanting the evening to end.
There was something about Liam’s presence that was comfortable. Comforting. Familiar.
She must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing she knew, the fire in the hearth had reduced to nothing but smoldering embers, the television was turned off, and Liam was gently nudging her awake, helping her to her feet and into the guest bedroom where she found her suitcase, apparently having already been retrieved from her car, already waiting.
She bid Liam goodnight, closing the door after accepting his invitation to continue showing her around town the following day. “Sloane can handle the coffee shop for one day, Violet. I’ve already cleared it with her.”
She turned, making her way towards the suitcase, still store, and utterly exhausted but her eye caught on something that caused her to smile - Xaden’s t-shirt, the one she’d slept in the night before, folded neatly at the foot of the bed. And without thinking twice about it, she crossed the room, changing out of her clothes and slipping the soft well-worn cotton tee over her head before she slid under the covers.
It smelled, she thought. Like him.
Notes:
I mean, it's a Hallmark story, so there has to be a little more confusion and small town charm on the horizon, right? And of course, a fire in the fireplace!
I wonder - what will tomorrow bring?? Maybe we'll find out as soon as tonight since we were a day late in posting this, I suppose that means we need to post twice today?
Chapter 8
Summary:
A day with Liam sounds like a good day to me!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Violet woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting up to her room. The scent was richer and fuller than she was used to - like someone had taken the time to properly roast the beans.
Liam.
Of course.
Violet rolled out of bed, still sore, but in no one place in particular. It was like the pain couldn’t quite decide where to settle. Her joints ached, feeling heavy and out of place, though nothing was dislocated. The ER doctors, and then Xaden, had made sure of that. It felt more like they’d shifted overnight and forgotten how to settle back where they belonged.
Still, she made her way across the room to her suitcase. Violet found a pair of jeans and pulled them on - black denim, bootcut, with a frayed raw hem. Evidently, she didn’t pack a sweatshirt, so she left on the shirt she’d slept in and wrapped a blanket around herself as she made her way downstairs.
“Morning,” Liam greeted. Way too chipper for the pre-dawn hour.
“What time is it?” Violet tried to lot let any of her discomfort show as she moved towards the pot of coffee on the counter. But Liam was too quick for her, already anticipating her need for caffeination.
“How do you take it?” He asked, before realizing that Violet probably didn’t know. She just shrugged in response. “Want to try my gingerbread spice-infused simple syrup?” He didn’t miss a beat.
“Sure,” Violet smiled back at him. The eggnog latte he’d made her yesterday was delicious, so she was sure she’d like whatever delightful caffeinated concoction he whipped up. And she was right, sighing contentedly as she took a second sip.
“I make the simple syrup myself from scratch.” He said proudly. “I infuse it with all kinds of warm spices like cinnamon, ginger, cloves, allspice, nutmeg, and my secret ingredient… cardamom.”
“Whatever it is, it’s delicious.” Liam beamed. “And I’ll definitely take another one to go?” She hadn’t forgotten Liam’s insistence that he take the day off to continue showing her around town - starting with breakfast at Mairi on Main so he could check in on the shop before their day of exploration began.
“Nice outfit, by the way.” Violet realized the blanket had slipped off her shoulders, revealing the oversized Navarre Fire Department shirt that very obviously did not belong to her.
“I’m not wearing this out! I just haven’t gotten dressed yet.” Violet blushed beneath Liam’s knowing gaze and the slow smile spreading across his face. “It was on the bed already and I was so tired last night that I just threw it on.” She tried, unconvincingly, to play it off.
“I see.” He did see, and his smile grew even wider as if to prove it. “Well, why don’t you go get ready and we can head out? I’d like to check in at the shop first if that’s still okay?” Violet assured him that it was.
So after a quick visit to Mairi’s on Main for a delicious breakfast and another seasonal latte, Liam took Violet on a tour of his favorite spots around town. The gazebo - dressed in festive lights and pine garlands, the Christmas Market - set up in the town’s main square - which Liam assured her she must visit with his friends that night. He took her to every shop on Main Street until they got to the book store. He paused outside The Archives and looked at her expectantly.
Violet knew, because Xaden had told her yesterday, that she came from the literary world. An agent. A very successful one, apparently. She wasn’t ready to reach out to her colleagues, not yet, not if she couldn’t remember anything. She convinced herself it was because it might affect her credibility, her reputation. It had absolutely nothing to do with the handsome paramedic that had set her heart aflame, and wanting to remain in this charming small town bubble a little while longer, one in which all she knew was his kindness, the joyful charm of this quaint town she hailed from, and a giddy sort of happiness that made her heart flutter.
“I thought you might enjoy going inside. Xaden and Imogen - Dr. Cardulo - suggested it might help you jog your memory?” He said it tentatively, like a question, like he didn’t want to push her too hard.
“No, you’re right,” Violet smiled. “It can’t hurt.”
The moment she stepped inside, she felt it. She couldn’t explain it, but she’d been here before. Many times. Like the shop was part of her somehow.
Rows of well-worn wooden shelves, the faint scent of paper and dust, all of it tugged at her. Like a memory clamoring its way to the surface. Liam watched her carefully as she traced her fingers along the spines of the rows of used books, pausing to inspect a book of fables. For a second, she thought something might break free. A name. A face. A memory.
But it never materialized. She wasn’t quite sure why this place was so familiar, but it was. And the way Liam watched her so closely, she felt like maybe he was hoping it would be the place that finally unlocked her memory.
They lingered there for a while longer, there was something about The Archives that transfixed Violet, something that felt so familiar she could almost taste her memory on the tip of her tongue. Something about the stale air, the musty scent of the place, the dim lighting. All of it spoke to her, as if it were calling to her from another realm. She vowed to return the next day, she decided, before they finally left.
The rest of the day passed in soft laughter and easy conversation. Liam made great company, and as she clung to his arm on the icy sidewalks, she felt an easy companionship - quite different than the sparks that danced along her spine every time she so much as looked at Xaden.
Liam pointed out places that clearly held history, even if she couldn’t remember them yet. And some new additions to the town he was eager to show her. He took her to a late lunch at Sawyer’s Smokehouse where they enjoyed some dangerously delicious BBQ.
“Most guys buy their smokers.” Liam told her when Violet declared, lost memory aside, this was easily the best barbeque brisket sandwich she’d ever tasted. “Sawyer just… made his. Welded the steel and everything. He does cookouts for the Fire Station sometimes and he swears, the thing has never warped, never even cracked. Guess he’s got a feel for metal or something.”
After lunch, Liam took her next door to the Ice Cream Shoppe, a vintage ice-cream counter run by an eccentric fellow named Ridoc who very enthusiastically embraced Violet. Literally and figuratively - jumping over the counter to envelope her in a bear hug and offer his condolences for her missing memory.
Liam ordered himself one of Ridoc’s special holiday flavors, Snowman Marshmallow Fluff, then picked up an extra two pints of Chocolate Fudge Cake Swirl. It was for Xaden, he quietly informed Violet.
“Liam is my best customer!” Ridoc declared proudly before asking Violet what he could offer her. On the house, of course.
Even though there were snow flurries falling outside, Violet couldn’t help but order herself a treat. A lavender lemon sorbet, which tasted like summer and made her smile. Ridoc clapped his hands delightedly when her face puckered from the first, tart taste.
By the time they’d wrapped up their tour of the town, the sun began to dip, painting the town in a pinkish gold. It looked like a postcard, Violet thought, feeling the happiest she had since she woke up dazed and confused in the middle of the street.
She felt, she decided, like she belonged here.
“I have one more surprise for you,” Liam’s smile was almost conspiratorial and she wondered what he was up to. “If you’re up for it.”
“Like saying no is even an option,” Violet laughed. “Let’s go.”
Notes:
Whoops, yesterday (and today) got away from us and just now posting this... but another will follow in a couple hours.
Chapter 9
Summary:
Things heat up a little in unexpected ways.
Notes:
As promised, a second installment tonight!
Chapter Text
Ten minutes later, Violet saw the Navarre Fire Station come into view. Why could Liam possibly be taking her here for a surprise?
Still, she knew this was where Xaden worked, and she couldn’t ignore the way her heartrate kicked up a notch as they approached. Was he here? Did he invite her to come, or was Liam planning something of his own?
“Ready?” He asked as he killed the engine.
“Ready for what?” Violet wasn’t sure she liked how gleeful Liam appeared.
“Xaden didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Violet had no idea what Liam was talking about.
“About the Christmas party.” Violet just stared blankly at Liam. She was in jeans and a sweater, hardly dressed for a party. “Every year, the Fire Department throws a Christmas party for all of the foster children in Calldyr County. Last I heard, 107 were signed up.”
“Oh.” No, Violet hadn’t told her about it.
“Anyway, the whole station gets involved. All the businesses in town do, really. Sawyer donated trays and rays of BBQ. Rhiannan who runs the flower shop, along with her girlfriend Tara, do all of the decor. The whole event, though, is spearheaded by Xaden. His dad used to handle it, was kind of his thing, his legacy, I guess. So Xaden picked it up six or so years ago after his father passed away.” Xaden’s father had died?
A sudden stab of pain. No, grief. A memory maybe, tore through Violet.
“Just like my dad,” she turned to Liam with tears in her eyes. I don’t remember how exactly, but I can feel it. I know it. My dad isn’t here anymore.
“It was a long time ago, Violet.” Liam pulled her closer to him, holding her tightly against his chest as she took a minute to process. As her memories returned, she knew, not every one would be a happy one.
She took a deep breath. Maybe an event like the one Liam just described would be exactly what she needed to lift her spirits. How could it not?
“I’m okay,” she told him. She was as okay as she was going to be, at least.
“Should we call Imogen? Dr. Cardulo, I mean. Do you remember anything else?”
She didn’t.
“No, not yet. I don’t really remember any details, just another flash of a memory. Only this time, I understood what it meant. It was more than just a memory, it was a feeling.” Grief.
“We don’t have to go in there if you’re not up for it.” Liam’s hand rested on her shoulder now as his blue eyes met hers. “You can wait here if you want, I need to drop off the cookies. Mairi on Main donates them every year for the event.” And just like that, Violet knew she didn’t want to miss out on being part of his annual tradition.
“I want to,” she said, gripping Liam’s hand and squeezing.
“You good to carry a box of cookies then?”
“Put me to work!” Violet responded with a smile, the lightness she carried earlier returning as they made their way into the station.
And when Violet walked inside behind Liam, the sight before her nearly caused her to drop the box she held between her hands.
Xaden stood near the front of the room. He was dressed head to toe in a full, authentic Santa suit - the works. A red coat pulled snug across broad shoulders, tall black boots, a thick white beard, and a coordinating red velvet hat that tilted just slightly and Violet couldn’t tell whether the lopsidedness was intentional. He looked… unreal. Like someone had plucked him straight out of a holiday dream and dropped him into the fire station.
Yeah, her own naughty holiday dream, apparently.
Beside him stood a hulk of a man. Even taller and broader than Xaden, dressed as a comically large Mrs. Claus. Violet wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. Kids, probably a hundred of them, sat cross-legged on the floor as volunteers adjusted chairs and string lights along the walls. Xaden was laughing at something Mrs. Claus said - and then he turned.
His eyes found hers instantly.
It was his eyes that had given him away, and when they met Violet’s it was like watching coal set ablaze, the way gold flecks danced like flames across those deep onyx depths.
For a split second, the chaos of the room faded. Violet felt it everywhere at once: the rush of heat, the way her pulse skidded and then took off, the sudden awareness of her own body and the way heat began to pool between her legs. Her brain helpfully offered absolutely nothing useful - no memories, no context - just the undeniable truth that seeing Xaden dressed as Santa did something dangerous to her composure.
Oh.
And the way he smirked at her, then winked as he took a seat in the large armchair beside Mrs. Claus. The way he opened the book waiting for him there, his voice, both smooth and rough at the same time, like velvet dragged over worn leather. A sound that she hadn’t expected to feel so deeply.
A sound, she realized, she wanted to hear when other, filthier words came out of his mouth. Words not meant to be uttered aloud in front of underage ears.
And when the reading concluded, he invited the children to raise their hands and share their Christmas wishes as he and Mrs. Claus - a man, Liam told her, named Lieutenant Garrick Tavis - handed out Liam’s beautifully decorated cookies.
And as she watched, her body responding to the scene in ways she couldn’t control, a thought came - uninvited, though not entirely unwelcome. Violet fantasized about sitting on Xaden’s lap, close enough to feel that steady strength beneath the costume, telling him - very seriously - all the ways she’d been a Good Girl this year.
Her cheeks warmed as she squeezed her legs together, desperate to alleviate the ache that had materialized between them.
Xaden looked back at her then, his eyes locking on hers with a heat in his gaze that was unmistakeable. Violet took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, her heart still racing, as she realized something that didn’t need memory to be true.
Whatever this was between them, whatever it had been or whatever it might become… it was very much alive.
And she had a feeling this Christmas was going to be unforgettable.
Chapter 10
Summary:
Things are heating up! But what of that pesky boyfriend?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
He was dressed like Santa Claus and Violet was here. At his station. Watching him with a quiet sort of hunger that suggested she felt that just looking wasn’t nearly enough.
Or maybe it was in his own head. Maybe that was just the way he wanted her to be looking at him.
Either way, she wasn’t his to have. But he couldn’t help but wonder, where was Violet’s boyfriend, and why did she show up here during the holidays. Unannounced. And alone.
Though, more likely than not, he'd have to find a way to control himself as she'd apparently be with them for the rest of the night. Following the event, everyone was going to the Christmas Market in town to celebrate. It was tradition - they always went immediately following the event at the fire station. After he and Garrick changed out of their ridiculous outfits, that is.
And Xaden found himself wondering whether Violet really would join them. Whether she’d be warm enough now that the sun had set, that jacket didn’t look adequate for this December evening.
But she wasn’t his to worry about, he reminded himself. And right now, he had to focus on the event. The kids loved it, and they were responding excitedly to his and Garrick’s Mr. & Mrs. Claus antics. They always did. And, he smiled sadly to himself, it was one of the most meaningful things Xaden could do to keep his father’s memory alive. And so, with a sigh, Xaden tore his gaze away from Violet’s, focusing on the 107 kids now on their feet preparing to dance before them.
“Who’s ready for DJ Durran to drop some beats?” Garrick asked in his best Mrs. Claus voice. The kids, high on sugar from the cookies they’d just consumed, responded with much enthusiasm as Xaden’s cousin, dressed like an elf, started the 20 minute dance set that would conclude the event with a techno remix of the ever popular Rockin Around the Christmas Tree.
45 minutes later, all the children had been shepherded to busses, waiting to take them back to their respective pickup locations around the county. It was another successful holiday party, but Xaden was exhausted. His twenty four hour shift was over. Fortunately, it was an uneventful one and he’d actually managed a few uninterrupted hours of sleep last night.
He’d spent the rest of his night thinking about Violet Sorrengail.
And how she had quite literally fallen back into his life.
And the way that kiss had seemed to consume them both.
Never, had he felt so out of control over a single kiss before.
And probably - no definitely - he lamented, never again would he feel what he did with her.
Because kissing Violet was unlike anything he’d ever known, beyond anything he’d ever imagined. He was ruined, over a single brush of their lips and the slightest taste of her tongue.
But wanting her meant wanting something he could not have.
So he forced the thoughts from his mind and he made his way out of the station.
It was an easy walk from the fire station to the Christmas market, though Xaden barely registered the distance. The night air was sharp with cold and sugar and the scent of warm spices wafting through the air. Strings of lights glowed overhead like stars falling from the sky. He spotted Violet almost immediately, pausing by the entrance as Liam stepped inside. She turned back, eyes scanning the crowd still walking together from the party until they landed on his.
He tried to ignore the way his heart stuttered in his chest, the way her face lit up when she saw him approaching, the way his breath caught when he realized she was walking not towards the group, but towards him.
“Hey,” he said, stopping as she reached him.
“Hey,” she said, biting her lip as she held his gaze. “Care to show a girl around? I hear you’re a regular around here.”
She smiled at him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like she was meant to be there, at his side. Like she didn’t have a boyfriend.
Because she doesn’t remember.
And when she looked at him like that, he knew he wouldn’t be able to deny her request. He was just showing her around, he told himself. Making sure she got a taste of all the best spots the market had to offer.
Without even realizing it, they’d slowed their pace as they walked, drifting away from the group as he took her to all of his favorite spots, slipping between stalls as if the crowd parted for them alone. Xaden pointed out some of the places that had been staples of the market since their childhood, hoping it might help stir another memory - the vendor who carved ornaments by hand, the booth that sold candied nuts so sweet they made your ears heat and your teeth ache. Violet took it all in, her attention fixed on him in a way that made it far too easy to forget why he needed to keep his distance.
“And what’s your favorite stand?” She asked him earnestly.
“The Tyrrish hot cocoa,” he replied without hesitation.
“And what makes it so good?”
“Well, for starters, they use real, Tyrrish chocolate. No powder, nothing artificial, just pure melted chocolate mixed by hand into warm, frothy milk. And they’ll top it with a mountain of whipped cream if you know to ask for it.”
“Take me there?” Her hand curled around his bicep and he became painfully aware of everywhere her body touched his.
He took her straight to Felix's stand and ordered two cups of the decadent hot cocoa, steam curling into the cold air from each of their cups - Violet’s piled high with a mountain of whipped cream. They wandered with their cups, waiting for the cocoa to cool enough that it wouldn’t turn their tongues to sandpaper - a pet peeve of Xaden’s.
He told her to be patient. She declared he wasn’t, and Xaden found that declaration to be the most adorable thing he’d ever heard.
“It will taste better if you have to wait for it,” he teased.
“The best things usually do,” she replied.
Her gaze didn’t waver. It dipped - briefly, and what felt very deliberately - to his mouth before lifting back to his eyes. And the way she was looking back at him now gave Xaden the distinct impression that the hot cocoa had stopped being the subject of the conversation altogether.
Slowly, defiantly, she took a sip from her cup.
Whipped cream clung to her lip, and she slowly ran her tongue across it, as if savoring it. But she missed a spot.
Xaden noticed immediately.
Before he could think better of it, his thumb brushed her lip, wiping it away. The contact was brief - innocent enough - but it landed like a match struck in dry kindling. Violet froze, her gaze flicking to his mouth, and this time it stayed there for a heartbeat, then another, before slowly returning to his eyes.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
He nodded, hand dropping, pulse hammering.
That was when he realized where they were standing.
Mistletoe hung from the arch overhead, tied with a red ribbon, swaying gently in the cool night breeze. Violet followed his gaze, then laughed, but she didn’t step back. Instead, she tilted her head up, eyes searching his face like she was asking a question.
He shouldn’t.
Xaden knew that. He knew all the reasons. She had a boyfriend, she had no memory, she belonged to someone else.
But Violet surprised him, rising up onto her toes and threading her fingers into his loose curls as she pressed into him anyway.
And whatever control he had left slipped away.
And he leaned toward her, his hand reaching out, cupping the nape of her neck as his heart climbed into his throat. His breath shallow, and he could feel the warmth of her lips as they drew close, just barely grazing his as the world narrowed to nothing but the space that disappeared between them –
“Violet!”
Xaden pulled back instantly.
It was a voice he didn’t recognize and it was a voice that did not sound pleased. He turned towards its owner.
It was that Ken Doll he’d seen online.
Dain.
“Do I know you?” She asked.
“Jesus, Vi. It’s me. Dain. Your boyfriend.”
Xaden’s fists clenched at his sides, his jaw locking as the truth settled in and his anger turned inward - where it belonged. She’d never been his, and he shouldn’t have let himself believe otherwise.
Notes:
DUNNNN DUN DUNNNNN
Chapter Text
Boyfriend?
Violet stared back at the handsome man claiming to be her boyfriend. He was well-dressed in slacks and a hunter green sweater that she could see between the open lapels of his wool pea coat.
“Gods, I’ve been so worried about you, Vi.” He stepped forward, racing towards her and taking her hands in his.
And something about the way he said her name, Vi, triggered a note of familiarity that was trapped inside her somewhere, waiting to be discovered. She knew, instinctively, that she knew this man. And that he most likely was her boyfriend.
“I’m sorry.” It was all she could think to reply. But sorry for what, exactly, she wasn’t sure. For forgetting him? For kissing another man? For being an inconvenience and a burden to everyone as she tried to piece her life back together?
Maybe her apology was intended for Xaden, who stood frozen at her side. I’m sorry that I have a boyfriend. I’m sorry that he interrupted our perfect, magical moment. I’m sorry I led you on.
Whatever meaning the words truly carried, it was apparently the right thing to say. Dain’s steely demeanor softened towards her as he pulled Violet’s body against his chest and cradled her in his arms.
It felt familiar.
It felt safe.
Not in the way she felt safe with Xaden, though. Safe as in, comfortable. As in complacent. It was just too much to process all at once, she decided.
“Do you remember anything, Vi? About your accident? About us? About what happened before you left for Navarre?”
She didn’t.
“No,” she whispered, feeling, for whatever reason, like she’d failed him.
Xaden cleared his throat. “I’ll let you two talk,” he said as he started to walk away.
“No.” Violet didn’t fully understand the empathic way the word instinctively fell from her lips as her hand tore herself free from her boyfriend’s, reaching out and grasping Xaden’s wrist. Dain just stared at her wide-eyed, causing and overwhelming feeling of guilt to wash over her. She couldn’t ignore the hurt that had just taken up residence in his eyes. “What I mean is,” Violet slowly recovered, “that Xaden was there, for the accident, and the hospital visit after. He might be able to answer some of the questions you have better than I could.”
This seemed to mildly appease her boyfriend. Dain, he had a name she reminded herself. He'd called himself Dain. Though his eyes remained focused on the place where her hand still wrapped around Xaden’s wrist.
Violet promptly removed it.
“Gods, do you know how terrified I’ve been, Vi? Your phone has been going straight to voicemail, though that’s hardly a surprise since you’ve never had decent service in this town. Or even back home in the Big City for that matter, I’ve tried to get you to change plans to my provider a million times, and maybe when we get home –”
Xaden cleared his throat again, interrupting Dain.
“Sorry, I digressed, it’s just. Do you know what that voicemail did to me? I haven’t slept in two days.”
“What voicemail?” Violet wasn’t sure what he was talking about.
“You were in the middle of leaving me a voicemail when all of a sudden, your voice was drowned out by the screeching of tires, followed by a scream - then it cut off entirely. There was a loud sound like a crack, then silence.”
The accident. Oh Gods. Of course he’d been terrified, what a horrible thing to have had to overhear.
“Oh,” was all she replied, allowing him to continue.
“I called your mom, but she took two days to get back to me. I had no idea where you were when you’d gotten hit or how to find you! Your location services were turned off. Apparently your mom was away on vacation with her boyfriend to some remote island without cell service. She called me as soon as she’d gotten my message, explaining what had happened. So of course I rushed straight here as soon as I could.”
“Oh, Dain.” Violet took a step closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and settling her head against his chest. She wished she could remember something, anything, about him as she burrowed her cheek into the soft, cashmere wool of his sweater that smelled of cedar.
That scent. It was so familiar. And it triggered the briefest flash of a memory. Dain meticulously folding a stack of his sweaters and placing them, organized by color, on the shelf of his cedar-lined closet. That she shared with him.
Oh Gods, what had she done?
“Shh, let’s just get you home, Violet.” Dain cupped her face in his hands before bringing his lips to meet hers in a kiss.
A kiss that made her feel nothing.
No pull. No warmth. No answering spark.
Then suddenly – everything.
The world fractured before her mind’s eye.
Memory after memory suddenly slammed into place so fast it stole her breath. It was as if his touch was pulling them from where they’d lay dormant, like a magnet, extracting them one by painful one.
Her most recent ones. Before the accident.
Violet hunched over her computer. Late nights reading manuscripts. Him asking questions innocently, at least that was how it had seemed. He was curious about what she was working on, he’d said. Showing interest. Being supportive. Her talking too freely about pitches still in progress, about clients she was excited about, strategies she hadn’t even presented yet.
His father presenting his own pipeline to management that looked oddly familiar. Undiscovered authors. Marketing pitches. Social media campaigns.
Prospects disappearing.
Amber’s tight smile as she sat Violet down.
Losing her job.
Because of budget cuts. Because with Gregory Aetos capturing her prospects, claiming her thoroughly researched pitches as his own, she was expendable.
It all made sense now.
And it was all because of Dain. All because of him.
Because he had taken her hard work, her ideas, her success - and handed it over to his father without her knowledge, without her consent. Fed them to Gregory like offerings, and then stood by while the fallout burned her career to the ground, claiming ignorance.
She remembered screaming at Dain when she got home from that meeting with Amber. The day she was laid off. Remembered packing whatever she could get her hands on in her haste to get away from the man who’d betrayed her trust. Clothes shoved into bags with shaking hands. She remembered getting in her car and driving until the Big City skyline disappeared in the rear view mirror and she ended up in Navarre, furious that this was the place she thought to come.
But she needed to get away.
Far away.
She wanted to put as much distance between her and Dain Aetos as possible.
“Get your hands off of me. And don’t ever think about touching me again, Dain Aetos!” Violet screamed, not caring if she drew the attention of revelers as she pushed him away. “We’re over! I meant it when I said it.”
His eyes blew wide as realization dawned.
Violet’s memory had just returned - enough of it anyway - in the most spectacular way.
It had just slammed into her with the force of a freight train and now that she was catching her breath, her blood began to heat as anger flowed through her veins.
“You wouldn’t let me explain,” Dain tried to say in a pathetic sort of defense that she had no interest in rehashing again.
“There is nothing to explain, Dain.”
“I didn’t know my dad would do that. I thought - I thought he was just taking an interest in you. That it was actually a good thing.”
“Do you really want me to believe that you’re that naive?” Violet spat back, making it clear that this conversation was over, as far as she was concerned.
“Violet, please.” He reached out for her as she recoiled, stepping back.
“I believe,” Xaden cut in, “she asked you, rather clearly, not to touch her again.”
Dain scoffed, his gaze snapping up to Xaden. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“I’d argue that it became my business the moment you decided not to listen when she withdrew her consent,” Xaden said evenly. The tick in his jaw was the only outward indication that his temper had flared.
Silence followed. A charged, uncomfortable one, before Dain finally retreated.
“Fine, Violet. Have it your way. We can talk more when you’ve cooled off. I’ll be at your mom’s, I’ll just let myself in with the hide-a-key.”
“I won’t be joining you,” her tone carried more conviction than she felt. Because now where else was she supposed to go?
“And where are you going to stay, Violet?” Dain sounded incredulous “With him?” He made a sound that was half laughter, half scoff.
“And what if I do?” Violet said it without thinking.
“Whatever, Vi.” Dain started to walk away. “You’re not acting like yourself.”
But maybe, she was acting exactly like herself. And maybe, she thought, she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
Violet felt it then, the steadiness of Xaden at her side, the way he hadn’t stepped in front of her but hadn’t stepped away either. And a feeling took hold, like warmth returning after numbness - a gentle tingling awareness that she knew exactly who was standing with her - and who wasn't.
Notes:
Whelp ... sometimes I'm a Dain apologist. But not today, apparently.
Chapter 12
Summary:
I guess its time for Xaden to take Violet home
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Are you okay?” Xaden asked Violet as Dain walked away.
“Not really,” she replied. “I mean, my memory didn’t really come back, just something about that encounter triggered a flood of recent ones. Really crappy ones.”
“Well, if you need somewhere to stay, the room's still yours.” Xaden didn’t want to get his hopes up that she’d take him up on his offer. Especially not now. Though, he wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. She had a place to stay.
Hope.
That fickle, dangerous thing that would steal his focus and aim it toward the possibilities instead of keeping it where it belonged - on the probabilities.
Hope.
That’s what had led him to nearly kiss her. He’d been distracted by the possibility of what could be. Not the practicalities. The probabilities. Violet Sorrengail was not moving back here from the Big City.
At least now he knew why she was here, alone, around the holidays. And, he reminded himself, so did she.
“Can we go home?” Her question took him by surprise.
Home.
As if his house somehow felt like her home too. And, he supposed, for the sake of what fragments of the world she could still remember, it was.
“Of course.” Xaden responded without hesitation.
“Thanks,” she smiled, a little sheepish as her gaze dipped away from his. “You don’t have to cut your night short, though.”
“I know,” Xaden offered her his arm anyway.
She took it, slipping both of her hands around his forearm and resting her head against his bicep as naturally as though she’d done it a thousand times before.
Xaden swallowed. “Let’s get you home.”
And, like a match struck in the dark, hope flared to life again in his chest, a brief, fragile glow that vanished before it could find a wick to hold it there.
Xaden was still awake.
He couldn’t sleep. Knowing Violet was just down the hall. Not after replaying the events of the past two days over and over again in his head.
Not after she asked him to take her home.
He rolled on his side, lamp turned low, thoughts circling restlessly, when he noticed her in the doorway.
Violet didn’t knock. She just stood there, barefoot, wrapped in the soft glow of the hallway. Her hair fell in loose, tangled waves over her shoulders and she was wearing his T-shirt - the one he’d lent her to sleep in the night of the accident - he noticed immediately. It was his, it was far too big for her, and yet, somehow it looked like it was entirely hers.
“I saw your light on,” she said quietly. “I… I can’t sleep and I thought maybe you might be up too.”
He sat up immediately. “Is everything okay?”
Violet stepped into the room, hesitating before she spoke. “I… it’s stupid. I just…” Her fingers twisted at the hem of the shirt. His shirt. “I feel… I don’t know… like I woke up in the wrong place. Or… I guess I just feel completely lost. And like I have no one.”
He said nothing, just let her pause, as she composed her words.
She glanced down, swallowing hard. “I remembered tonight. With Dain. I broke up with him. I just… left. I had to.” Her voice hitched. “And my mom… she didn’t even bother to come when she heard about my accident.”
“You’re not alone, Violet.” He held her gaze as she took a careful step closer, and Xaden’s eyes never left hers as he pulled back the covers, patting the bed beside him. “Not if you don’t want to be.”
Her eyes never left his as she slowly climbed onto the bed and lay down beside him, leaving just enough space between them to breathe. Xaden stayed still, letting her take it in, letting her feel safe choosing how close to be.
He held his breath in an effort to control the way his heart beat against his ribcage, and he didn’t say a word. He wasn’t sure he could speak if he tried.
After a moment, Violet shifted, pressing her head against his arm, exhaling slowly as she tugged the covers over her body.
“Are you sure?” She whispered. But she’d already settled in.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice quiet but rough around the edges.
Neither of them spoke another word.
Violet fell asleep almost immediately, her small sighs marking the rhythm of his own breath. But Xaden stayed awake, acutely aware of her presence beside him. Acutely aware of every inch of her, and how easy it would be to cross that line he didn’t dare breech.
Not yet.
He didn’t touch her. He didn’t move.
But he stayed.
And somehow, that felt like the most intimate thing he’d ever done.
Notes:
Awwwww.
And now that brings us to Christmas Eve!