A Christmas Rediscovery Ch. 2

The rays of sunlight filtered through the frosted windows of The Gingerbread Cottage, illuminating the polished wooden beams and jars of sweets lining the shelves.

The bell above the door jingled softly as Harry stepped in, brushing snow from his scarf and shoulders. The warmth of the bakery wrapped around him like a comforting embrace, and the air was, as usual, rich with the scent of cinnamon and freshly baked bread.

Grace was at the counter, carefully arranging a fresh batch of spiced gingerbread men on a display tray. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and her green sweater bore a dusting of flour—nothing out of the ordinary.

She glanced up when she heard the bell, and a smile lit up her face as she saw him.

“Morning, James,” she said warmly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You know, I’m starting to think I should write your name on that table.”

Harry chuckled, unwrapping his scarf and hanging it over the back of a chair near the window. “Maybe I’m just starting to get addicted to this place. It must be the smell of those freshly baked mince pies.”

“Or the company,” Grace said, the words slipping out in a whisper before she could stop them. A faint flush crept up her neck, but she quickly turned her attention back to the dough. “What can I get for you today?”

“Surprise me,” Harry replied, leaning on the counter. “I trust your taste.”

Before Grace could respond, the sound of the door opening behind Harry drew both their attention.

Her neighbor Edith stepped inside, her knitted shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders and her cheeks rosy from the cold.

“Ah, good morning, my dears!” Edith said, her eyes twinkling as she took in the scene. “Looks like I’ve walked into quite the cozy moment.”

Grace’s cheeks flushed faintly, but she recovered quickly, moving to help Edith with her hat and coat. “Good morning, Edith. Here for your usual tea and scone?”

Edith waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, that can wait. I actually came to ask for a favor. Grace, dear, I was wondering if you might help me set up my Christmas tree. My arthritis has been acting up something fierce, and I’m afraid I can’t manage it on my own this year.”

“Of course, Edith,” Grace said immediately. “I’d be happy to help. When would you like to start?”

“No time like the present,” Edith replied warmly before she gained a mischievous glint in her eyes. She turned to Harry, her gaze appraising. “And you, young man… you look like you’ve got a good pair of hands. Care to help out?”

Harry blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but he quickly regained his bearings and smiled. “Oh, I’d be happy to help.”

Grace shot Edith a knowing look, sensing the older woman’s intentions. Her expression was far too pleased. Grace could sense her neighbor’s matchmaking skills at play, but she let it slide and didn’t protest.

“Let me just finish up here, and we’ll head over.”

“Wonderful!” Edith exclaimed, her grin triumphant as she clapped her hands together. “I’ll stay here and mind the bakery while you two take care of the tree. No need to worry about a thing.”

Grace raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. Instead, she untied her apron and set it aside. “Alright. Let’s go, then.”

She grabbed her coat and gloves, glancing at Harry with a faint smile. “Looks like you’re getting roped into Evergreen’s community spirit.”

Harry chuckled as he followed her to the door. “It can’t be that bad.”

As Grace and Harry stepped outside into the crisp winter air, Edith stood by the window, watching them go with a satisfied expression. “Ah, young love,” she murmured to herself, a smile tugging at her lips.

-Break-

Harry followed Grace out into the snow, the cold air biting at his cheeks. As they walked through the village, the festive decorations glowed softly against the twilight sky. Strings of lights twinkled above the streets, and wreaths adorned every door. The sight was enchanting, and Harry found himself relaxing despite the slight awkwardness he could feel in the situation.

Edith’s home was a cozy cottage not far from the village square. Inside, it was warm and inviting, the scent of mulled cider lingering in the air.

“She’s a persistent one, isn’t she?” Grace remarked, earning a smile from Harry.

“I have a feeling she’s not used to taking no for an answer.”

“You got that right,” Grace said, shaking her head. She led the way into the sitting room, where a tall, slightly lopsided Christmas tree stood waiting by the window.

“Shall we?” Harry asked, rolling up his sleeves.

Grace slipped off her coat and set it aside, rolling up her sleeves as well. “Yeah. Let’s see what we’ve got to work with.”

Edith had already laid out a box of ornaments on the coffee table, a mix of hand-carved wooden figurines, glass baubles, and strings of twinkling fairy lights.

Together, they began unpacking the decorations. Harry untangled the string of fairy lights while Grace arranged the ornaments by size and color. The atmosphere was quiet and companionable, and the faint sound of a festive tune was playing on Edith’s old radio.

“You’ve mentioned how much you love this village,” Harry said after a while, glancing at Grace as he draped the lights around the tree. “What is it about Evergreen that makes it so special?”

Grace paused, holding a delicate glass star in her hands. “It’s the people, mostly. Everyone here looks out for each other. There’s a sense of community you don’t find in bigger places. It’s not perfect, of course, but there’s something comforting about knowing you’re part of something larger than yourself.”

Harry nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That… sounds nice. A sense of belonging. I think that’s something a lot of people look for.”

Grace tilted her head, studying him. “What about you? What do you look for?”

He hesitated, his hands stilling on the string of lights. “I guess I’ve always been drawn to places where people care about each other. Where it’s not just about what you can take, but what you can give. It’s rare to find, though.”

Grace’s gaze softened and unbidden, Edith’s words came to her mind. “I think you might be surprised by how many people feel the same way,” she whispered. “You just have to be willing to let them in.”

Their eyes met for a moment, and they quickly averted their gazes, resuming their work as they enjoyed the quiet. Grace broke the silence first, turning back to the ornaments with a small smile. “Alright, let’s see how good you are at hanging these without breaking them.”

Harry smirked as he carefully took a wooden reindeer from her. “Challenge accepted.”

As they worked, their hands occasionally brushed when reaching for the same ornament or adjusting a branch. Each time, a faint blush crept into Grace’s cheeks, and their fingers lingered just a fraction longer than necessary. Despite the occasional awkwardness, they fell into an easy rhythm, their laughter mingling with the soft music in the background.

At one point, Grace leaned over to adjust the fairy lights near the top of the tree, losing her balance slightly. Harry caught her instinctively, his hands steadying her waist.

“Careful,” he said, his voice low.

“Thanks,” she murmured, her breath hitching as their eyes locked. For a brief moment, the rest of the room seemed to fade away. Slowly, Grace stepped back, breaking the spell with a nervous laugh. “Looks like I’m not as graceful as I thought.”

Harry smiled, his tone teasing. “You’re doing fine.”

She glanced at him, noticing the way the soft glow of the lights highlighted his features. “You’re good at this,” she added, partly to distract herself.

Harry shrugged. “I’ve decorated a tree or two in my time. Never one quite this big, though.”

“Edith always insists on the tallest tree she can find,” Grace said with a fond smile. “It’s a tradition.”

“Really?” Harry smiled, earning a nod from her.

When the tree was finally complete, they stepped back to admire their handiwork. The lights twinkled against the glass ornaments, and the tinsel caught the warm glow of the fire. It was beautiful, and for a long moment, they stood in companionable silence, taking it all in.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Edith’s going to love it.”

Harry stood beside her, his gaze fixed on the tree. “It is, but,” he whispered, and taking a deep breath, he decided to take the step. “But I think the company made it better.”

Grace glanced at him, her heart skipping at the sincerity in his voice. She was about to respond when he turned to her, a hesitant expression on his face.

“Grace,” he began, reaching into his coat pocket. “I… I have something for you.”

She blinked, surprised. “For me?”

Harry nodded, pulling out a small velvet box. He opened it to reveal a delicate silver locket, the pendant shaped like a phoenix with its wings outstretched. The craftsmanship was exquisite, the tiny bird seeming to glow with an inner light.

“A phoenix,” he said quietly. “It’s a symbol of renewal and resilience. I thought it might… remind you of everything you’ve built here. And… of our friendship.”

Grace’s eyes were filled with a multitude of emotions as she gazed at the locket. “James, it’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied, a hint of nervousness in his tone. “I just… wanted you to have it.”

Without thinking, Grace stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Harry stiffened in surprise for a moment before he relaxed, his arms encircling her gently.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“No need to thank me, Grace,” he replied softly.

When they pulled apart, Grace held the locket up, her eyes shining. “Would you… put it on me?”

Harry smiled, taking the locket from her. He moved behind her, brushing her hair aside carefully as he fastened the chain around her neck. His fingers lingered for a moment against her skin before he stepped back.

Grace touched the pendant, her lips curving into a soft smile. “It’s perfect,” she said, turning to face him. “Thank you, James. This means so much to me.”

He met her gaze, his own smile soft but warm. “I’m glad you like it.”

They stood there for a moment, the glow of the Christmas tree casting a golden light over them, and the room was filled with a quiet warmth. Neither spoke, but words did not seem necessary. Something unspoken had passed between them—a bond that felt as if it had been waiting to form all along.

-Break-

The walk back to The Gingerbread Cottage was quiet, save for the soft crunch of snow beneath their boots. Grace and Harry walked side by side, the faint glow of lamplights casting long shadows over the snowy path. Their shared moment by Edith’s tree had filled them both with quiet warmth, and both could feel that an unspoken connection had developed between them that neither was quite ready to put a label on.

Grace entered the bakery first, with Harry following behind her. As he turned around, he saw Edith’s face light up at the sight of them.

“There you are. Took you long enough. Did you get the tree sorted?” Edith remarked with a grin.

Grace smiled as she shook the show from her coat and hung it on the wall near the counter. “It’s perfect, Edith. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” she smiled, her eyes sparkling with a knowing look as she glanced between the two of them. Their subtle closeness was not lost on her. “But first, you two must be famished. Come, sit. I’ve brewed some tea. It will go nicely with the new batch you baked.”

“She’ll pester you until you agree,” Grace whispered to Harry with a small grin.

Harry chuckled, glancing at her. “I’d love to, Edith. Thanks.”

The three of them sat around the small table near the bakery’s hearth, the flickering fire adding a cozy warmth to the room. Edith served them tea while Grace brought a freshly baked batch of cookies, and they ate while exchanging stories about the village and its quirks. Grace’s laughter rang out often, a sound that Harry found himself drawn to more with each passing moment.

“So, James,” Edith said, her tone sly, “how are you enjoying Evergreen? Is it living up to your expectations?”

Harry set down his cup, his expression thoughtful. “It’s more than I expected. It feels peaceful here, welcoming... It’s the kind of place that feels like it’s been waiting for you to find it.”

Grace’s gaze flicked to him, her expression softening at his words. Edith nodded knowingly. “Well, you’re always welcome here. And who knows? Maybe you’ll decide to stay a while.”

The conversation drifted to lighter topics as they finished their tea, and soon, Harry stood to leave. “Thank you for the tea and biscuits. They were delicious as always. And also for letting me help with the tree. It was... nice.”

“You’re always welcome, dear,” Edith said, her smile warm.

Grace walked him to the door, the cool night air greeting them as they stepped outside. “Thank you for today,” she said softly. “For helping with the tree, and... everything else.”

Harry saw her caressing the pendant he had gifted her and he hesitated, his eyes meeting hers. “I should be the one thanking you. You’ve made this place feel... different. In a good way.”

Their eyes lingered on each other for a moment before Grace stepped back, offering him a gentle smile. “Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight, Grace.”

He walked away into the snow-covered night, and Grace watched until he disappeared from view.

-Break-

The next evening, the village gathered by the square for the annual Christmas carol event. The snowy clearing was lit up under the soft glow of lanterns hung in nearby trees. Snowflakes fell gently, adding to the magical atmosphere as villagers wrapped in scarves and coats sang together, their voices rising in harmony. A small stage had been set up near the center, where musicians tuned their instruments and children in festive costumes prepared for their parts in the performance.

Grace arrived early, her arms laden with a basket of gingerbread and mulled cider to share with the crowd. She made her way through the gathering villagers, exchanging smiles and warm greetings with most of them. Mrs. Parker, the florist, waved her over. “Grace, these gingerbread men are darling! You outdo yourself every year.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Parker,” Grace replied with a smile. “I’m glad you like them.”

She continued through the crowd, stopping to chat with Mr. Hargrove, the blacksmith, and his wife, who were sipping hot cocoa by a brazier. Harry arrived not long after, blending into the crowd with ease. It had been a few days since he had arrived in the village, and he had already made acquaintances with various people residing therein.

Grace spotted him talking with Angus MacLeod, the owner of the homestay he was staying in. The man was animatedly describing some of the village’s older traditions, with a few other men and boys chiming in. He seemed to be engrossed in the tales, and inadvertently, a smile lit up her face as she watched him mingle about.

When he finally made his way over to where she was, she greeted him with a warm smile.

“You’re mingling. I’m impressed.”

Harry chuckled. “I’m trying. The people here make it easy. It’s... different from what I’m used to.”

Usually, he was either stared at or accosted by the public and although a part of him understood where they were coming from, it did not mean he liked being subjected to it.

“Different can be good,” Grace said, offering him a mug of cider. “Here, try this. It’ll keep you warm.”

He took it with a quiet “Thanks” and sipped, his gaze drifting over the gathering. “You’re right. It is good.”

For a long moment, they stood together, watching people singing and making merry. Children ran around, flinging snow at each other as they played, while the adults either chatted amongst themselves or sang together. It was a cheerful atmosphere and yet Harry felt a sense of melancholy settling in.

Grace noticed his expression and a concerned frown emerged on her face.

“You okay?” She asked softly, making him glance at her.

He smiled thinly and nodded.

“Wanna take a walk with me?” He asked, earning a nod from her.

They walked together on the snowy pathway, stopping to admire the decorations and chat with other villagers. The air was filled with the scent of pine and spiced cider, and the sound of carols harmonized beautifully with the gentle lapping of the lake’s waters.

As the carols began in earnest, Grace noticed his expression change once again. The tension she had seen on his face before their walk returned, settling over him like a shadow. He grew quieter, his responses more subdued. When the villagers who had been talking to them stepped away and joined the others to sing a particularly moving rendition of “Silent Night,” he took a step back, his hand tightening around the mug he still held.

“I think I need some air,” he murmured, his voice strained as he threw the mug in the bin.

Grace frowned, her concern deepening. “James?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, offering her a fleeting smile before walking away, heading toward a quieter part of the village as she watched him go with a heavy heart.

Grace hesitated for only a moment before she followed him. She found him standing near the small fountain, his gaze fixed on the frozen surface. His shoulders were tense, and he seemed lost in thought.

“James?” she said softly, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t turn, and when he spoke, his voice was strained, as if burdened under the weight of his turmoil. “Do you ever feel like no matter how far you go, you can’t escape your past?”

Grace’s breath caught at the raw vulnerability in his tone. However, even more than his voice, his question reminded her of her own past that she had tried to forget so much as she built a new life in this place. A past that was filled with darkness and the remnants of memories that were better left forgotten.

“Yes,” she admitted quietly. “I know exactly what that feels like.”

He glanced at her, his eyes searching hers. He did not know why, but a part of him felt like she truly understood him.

“It’s like a shadow, always there, always reminding you of what you’ve done... or what you couldn’t do,” he whispered.

Grace stepped closer, her heart aching for him. “I know that feeling,” she said softly. “I’ve carried it with me for a long time. When I left my old life behind, I wanted to forget it all. I thought I could start over, but there are days when it feels like the past is just waiting for me to stumble somehow.”

“What made you leave?” Harry asked, his voice soft but curious.

Grace hesitated, the truth hovering on the edge of her tongue. “I had to,” she said finally. “It wasn’t safe to stay. I needed to find a place where I could just... be. A place where I could feel like myself, and not what people wanted me to be.”

Harry nodded slowly, his gaze returning to the fountain. “I know that feeling too. People putting you on the spot, unknowingly forcing you to be something you are not sure you even want to be.”

Grace stepped closer, standing right beside him, and turned to look at the fountain.

“There was a time when everything I did felt like a fight for survival,” he continued. “And now... now it’s like I don’t know who I am without the fight. I keep running, hoping I’ll figure it out, but it’s hard to let go.”

“You’re a soldier?” She asked.

“Something like that,” he replied faintly with slight hesitation in his voice. “I would’ve given anything to be far away from it all. To be just a normal guy with a normal, boring life.”

“You can still be that,” she whispered. “The past will always be there, but you can work to move forward and spend the rest of your life exactly how you want.”

“It’s not so easy though, is it?” He asked with a sad smile. “Letting go of the past and moving on? The reminders, the loneliness, the fear… it’s always there.”

His words hit too close to home, and Grace could not help but feel even closer to him as a result. She reached out, her hand brushing against his. “Maybe you don’t have to let go all at once,” she whispered, biting her lower lip gently. “Maybe it’s about finding someone who understands, who can help you carry it.”

Harry glanced down at their hands before looking back at her, his expression softening. Her breath caught when he reached out, clasping her hand in his.

“You’ve helped more than you know, Grace. Being here, with you... it’s the closest I’ve felt to peace in a long time.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she found herself smiling despite the ache in her chest. Their eyes met, and at that moment, the unspoken connection that had been forming between them deepened.

Her heartbeat rose dramatically when he slowly began leaning closer, his forehead resting against hers. Their eyes were closed, and they both were breathing heavily.

“I want to stop running,” he whispered, his hot breath caressing her skin. “I want to try.”

Grace could feel her heart thumping in her chest and the ringing in her ears had risen to a fever pitch, but she still heard him with crystal clarity. Her smile widened, and she kept her voice as steady as she could.

“Then let’s try together,” she whispered back.

Harry pulled back and regarded her. Her face was flushed but her eyes were as radiant as they could be.

“You mean it?” He asked softly, earning a nod from her.

Their arms came up and wrapped around each other as they embraced, the world around them fading away. Both breathed in the other’s scent, and they could feel the other’s heart thumping as they held each other close.

Finally, after what felt like hours, they pulled back and Harry took her hand in his. Their fingers intertwined naturally and both gazed at their joined hands. As they turned back to look at each other, they both had radiant smiles on their faces.

“We should be getting back now,” she said softly, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face. Harry reached out and gently tucked it behind her ear.

“Yeah,” he smiled.

Together, they walked back to the gathering, and both felt that their vulnerabilities were replaced by a newfound hope.

The villagers greeted them with warm smiles when they returned, hand in hand, and there were more than a few teasing glances, particularly from Edith who looked way too pleased with herself.

The carols continued as they stood hand in hand and joined in, and the night was soon filled with joyful harmony.

-Break-

The next morning dawned as usual, the morning sunlight streaming through the frosted windows of The Gingerbread Cottage. Grace was at the counter, arranging trays of freshly baked pastries when the familiar sound of the bell above the door chimed softly. She looked up, her heart fluttering as Harry stepped inside, brushing snowflakes from his dark coat.

“Hey,” she said, her voice warm as she gave him a soft smile. Her cheeks flushed slightly as he turned to her.

“Hey,” he smiled, his gaze meeting hers.

For a moment, they stood there, just taking each other in.

“You’re just in time,” Grace said, breaking the moment with a gentle smile. “I pulled these out of the oven not five minutes ago.” She gestured to a tray of golden scones, their tops glistening with a light drizzle of honey.

“Smells incredible,” Harry said as he approached the counter. He paused, his hand brushing hers briefly as he reached for a scone. The touch was fleeting, but it lingered between them, drawing a soft smile to Grace’s lips.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” He asked as he leaned on the counter, munching on the scone.

Grace grinned, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Actually, I was thinking about taking a break. There’s only so much baking I can do before the flour starts getting into my hair.”

Harry chuckled. “So that’s why I don’t see as many goods out today. Any plans for that break?”

“It snowed quite a lot last night, and I was thinking we could build a snowman,” she said, her eyes brightening. “It’s been ages since I made one, and the backyard is perfect for it.”

“A snowman, huh?” Harry’s smile widened. “Alright, I’m in.”

“Good,” Grace grinned. “But first, grab a seat. I’ll get your usual.”

She turned around, only for Harry to grab her hand and stop her.

“Join me today,” he said, making her smile. Giving his hand a soft squeeze, she pulled away and began working. Meanwhile, Harry walked over and grabbed his seat as usual.

Fifteen minutes later, Grace closed her bakery and led Harry out into her backyard. The pristine snow glistened under the sunlight as they walked over to a patch near the trellis, where the snow was untouched.

“All right,” Grace said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s see if you’ve got any snowman-building skills.”

“Skills? Is that what this is about?” Harry chuckled, scooping up a handful of snow. “I thought we were just having fun.”

He chucked a pinch of snow at her, making her giggle.

“Oh, it’s fun,” she said with a grin. “But there’s an art to it.”

“I see,” Harry replied as he aimed the snowball at her.

“Don’t you dare,” Grace pointed a finger at him.

“You’re gonna stop me?” He asked, getting ready to throw.

“Wait, wait,” she stepped back, waving her hands in the air. “Snowman first, then we’ll see about it.”

Harry eyed her with a smirk for a few moments before he loosened his palm, allowing the snowball to drop with a soft thud.

“I’ll hold you on to it,” he replied.

Grace rolled her eyes and in no time, the two began working together, rolling snow into large, sturdy spheres. Harry took charge of the base, packing it tightly while Grace focused on the middle section. Their laughter filled the air as they compared techniques, teasing each other as they built the snowman. Grace’s method was precise and calculated, while Harry’s was more improvisational.

“It’s lopsided,” Grace said, gesturing to the middle section as they lifted it onto the base.

“It has character,” Harry countered, adjusting it slightly. “Besides, isn’t imperfection part of the charm?”

Grace laughed, shaking her head. “Fine, we’ll call it charming.”

Once the snowman was complete, they moved on to decorating. Grace brought out a small tin of her delicious cookies—perfectly round and dusted with glittering sugar—to use as buttons. Harry added a scarf and a hat, and Grace carved a cheerful smile into the face.

“What do you think?” she asked, stepping back to admire their work.

Harry tilted his head, pretending to appraise the snowman critically. “It’s missing something.”

“Oh?” Grace raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

“A snowball fight initiation,” Harry said with a mischievous grin, scooping up a handful of snow and tossing it lightly in her direction. It hit her shoulder, sending a spray of powdery snow into the air.

Grace gasped in mock indignation. “You did not just do that.”

“I think I did,” Harry said, already preparing another snowball.

“You’re going to regret it,” Grace warned, bending to gather her own ammunition.

In no time, snowballs were flying around as they ducked and darted around the backyard. Grace’s aim proved surprisingly accurate, and Harry found himself laughing as he narrowly avoided her throws.

“You’re too good at this,” he called, his voice light with laughter.

“Told you it’s an art,” Grace replied, her cheeks pink from the cold and exertion. “You think I was talking only about the snowman?”

The fight ended when Harry launched a perfectly aimed snowball that caught Grace off balance, sending her tumbling backward into a soft snowbank. She yelped as she fell on her back, breathing heavily.

He approached, offering a hand to help her up, but she gave him a grin and pulled him down instead. Harry’s eyes widened as they both landed in the snow, laughing.

Their laughter subsided as they lay there, side by side, the world around them quiet and still. Grace turned her head to look at Harry, her smile softening.

“This was fun,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry turned to meet her gaze, his expression tender. “Yeah, it was.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, as if drawn together by some invisible force, their faces inched closer. Grace’s breath caught as Harry’s lips brushed hers in a soft, tentative kiss. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a warmth spreading through her that not even the snow around them could nullify.

They pulled back slightly, their eyes meeting in surprise. They gazed deeply into each other’s eyes for a moment before Grace leaned in again, her lips capturing his in a deeper, more assured kiss. Harry responded, his hand coming up to cup her cheek as he kissed her.

Slowly, their kisses grew more fervent, their lips moving together in perfect sync. Her lips were the softest thing he had ever touched, and he yearned to keep kissing her. Grace was no better, and she pushed her hand into his hair, caressing gently.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they kept their eyes closed, savoring their closeness.

“Wow… I didn’t expect that,” Grace murmured once they pulled away, her lips curving into a small smile.

“Me neither,” Harry admitted, his voice low as he caressed her cheek gently. “But I’m not complaining.”

Grace laughed softly, her fingers brushing against his. “Neither am I.”

TBC.