Alicia loves Christmas holidays. She always did. The decorations that make Chicago special, almost unreal, the crazy flurry of buying for that single and always unexpected last minute gift, the Santas at every corner, the stores playing Sinatra's and Bublé's Christmas songs on repeat, and the snow that gives a touch of magic to the ensemble. She likes to walk down the streets, breathing in the festive atmosphere. And she loves to choose the gifts, although this year the tension and the pressure at the firm gave her less time than what she had hoped. Still, with the help of the kids she managed to decorate the tree and the whole apartment. She enjoys the view of the result from the kitchen door. It's Christmas, and even if it's still very early in the morning, Zach and Grace are already up. When it comes to this special day, they forget they are teenagers and return as excited children. She smiles as they consume their breakfast in apparent quietness, but their eyes keep on shifting between the pancakes and the gifts under the Christmas tree.

She checks the clock. Owen should join them soon. Now that he lives in Chicago, he has no more excuses to decline her invitations. Because having him around – except for the sometimes tense skirmishes with Peter – it's always fun. So she smiles when the doorbell rings and welcomes him with a warm hug. "Merry Christmas," she says cheerfully, as she helps him getting all the packages inside.

"Merry Christmas sis," he replies, "oh, and this one's not mine, I found it in front of your door," he says as he hands her an anonymous package.

She takes it, confused and staggered, but pleasantly surprised at the same time. A surprise gift? Where does it come from? As she walks back towards the living room, she looks at the package searching for a card, a hint, something that might give away the sender. But as she takes the card and starts to open it, she is assaulted by the kids.

"Hey, mom is cheating!" Grace yells, clearly catching her in the act of trying to see whom the gift is from and close to opening it.

"Mom, don't cheat," Zach quietly and jokingly reproaches her, as he comes into the living room.

Alicia looks at her kids in disbelief. When exactly did they start acting like parents? She stares at them for a moment, questioningly, and then opens her arms in surrender, but still trying to keep up appearances. "I… I wasn't cheating! I was just reading the card!" She justifies herself, as she joins them.

The confusion that follows is the clear sign that the patient job of packing and wrapping of Santa's elves is going to be miserably and irreparably destroyed in the space of a few seconds.

She puts her mysterious gift aside on the couch, then joins the kids on the floor, as she watches pleased at the joyful mess that her living room is becoming. What a waste of paper. And how many trees cut down all over the world for the joy of a few seconds? But after all, it's Christmas… Zach is beside himself for his new technological toy – what's its purpose by the way? She doesn't have the slightest idea – and Grace, well, she's clearly losing control over her kids, since she doesn't know where that book about angels comes from. Maybe some friend? Or Jackie? She can't say, the card is gone, lost among the heaps of paper. She's just glad that she didn't get some new ornament. If she has to be honest, she's pleasantly surprised that all the gifts weirdly seem to be on the beam.

"Mom, you still have one gift to open," Grace points out.

Alicia looks behind her. With all the confusion, that anonymous package was almost forgotten. She reaches for it and is finally entitled to open the card.

Much to her disappointment, the card is not handwritten, but printed. There is her name. For Alicia. Nothing more. No sender, no hint. The absolute nothing. This only makes her curious. Who would send an anonymous gift?

She even examines the paper. Golden, with a little bow. It couldn't be any simpler. Her excitement grows, and under the curious gaze of both Owen and the kids, she starts to open it.

A book?

"What's that?" Grace asks with trepidation.

"A book," she replies, as she quickly gets rid of the paper. She looks at the cover. It's oddly familiar. Still, it takes her a while to recognize it. Philip Sidney. Astrophil and Stella. Then she remembers… She smiles at the memories… Georgetown. Will. He had lent her the book. She had ended up keeping it for two years. She even remembers the day she gave it back to him. The kiss. Their first kiss. And at the same time the last one for a very long while. So many memories revolve around this old book. She starts to flip through the pages and a Barnes & Nobles' bookmark falls down. She smiles and rolls her eyes. What is that supposed to be? An attempt to confuse her about the origin of the gift? But her attention is drawn to the words written, black and white, on the marked page. Second song. She used to love that sonnet so much. Years later, she still remembers every single word by heart. How can Will even remember about it? It's something that surprises her and leaves her speechless, thoroughly astonished in amazement.

"Wow," Zach comment, "it seems old…"

"It is indeed," Alicia says with a melancholic and emotional sigh. She can't believe that he still remembers after all these years. "Old like the…" She hesitates, pensively. How can she define what they have, what they had? "Like the friendship that ties me to the person who gave it to me." Is it really friendship after all? It's always been way more complicated that just that. Her face clouds as she remembers the day she broke it off. She has never gotten completely over it. She has never been completely over having made a choice that felt the right thing to do at that moment, but undoubtedly not the right thing for her heart, which was left broken and in tears for way longer than expected. Bitterness creeps over her as she thinks that she gave up on something that made her happy. For what? Fear? Doubts? Hesitations? Incapacity of moving over? Of taking a definitive step forward in her life? She wonders what thoughts crossed Will's mind as he went through the same pages. Probably the same long past memories.

"Will Gardner?" Grace asks nonchalantly.

Alicia freezes. How does she… She opens her mouth as to speak but words just refuse to cooperate. For a moment, she just feels ashamed for letting her memories betray her feelings. She doesn't know if she actually wants to know what led Grace to that name. But if she doesn't ask, she will never know, right? "How… how do you know?" She falters in nerve.

"It's written overleaf," Grace comments very quietly, as she points at the name, written in pen, probably over twenty years before.

Alicia goes white, then red in shame. How could she be so stupid? She didn't even think about turning the book, then laughs at the realization that probably, neither did Will.

"It was my favorite book back in college," she explains, letting nostalgia leak for a moment through her words and her voice. She has already – and involuntarily - given away so much about her feelings that hiding them now doesn't make much sense anyway.

"It seems of great value," Grace comments, as her eyes carefully study the gift.

Of great value. Damn if it isn't. Both sentimental and… she searches for the publishing date and freezes, goggling her eyes in shock as she reads the date. Its value is certainly more than sentimental as well.

"Wow… yes, it definitely is," Alicia confirms. How is it that she never noticed that peculiarity before? Is Will aware of its value? "And it surely requires a proper thank you," she says with a sigh, as she starts to ponder the meaning and the importance of such a gift.

Why now? Why something with such a clear, deep and meaningful significance for both of them? What is he trying to tell her? Things have been so complicated and awkward between them lately. Readjusting to the condition of just friends is proving harder than expected, for both. Will is paying with a six months suspension. And what about her? She spent the last months trying to convince herself that she did the right thing. It was the right thing indeed. Just not for her. Maybe that's what Will is trying to tell her? That he still cares after all? That he still thinks about her despite the fact that she broke it off? Her face enlightens at the thought that maybe… maybe things are not completely over for him too. Maybe…

Or maybe… what if this is his way to let her go? The dreamy smile suddenly disappears from her face, as she realizes that maybe she's misinterpreting his gesture. Maybe he's not opening the door again, but just closing it for good. After all, Will had always wanted her to keep the book. It sounds like closing a cycle and she doesn't like the idea. Actually it makes her sick.

She doesn't want to lose him. But can she lose him more than she already did? They are no longer friends, or lovers, or whatever they were. They have been barely talking to each other, in the vain attempt to avoid the inevitable and cumbersome discomfort. She realizes that she doesn't know what they are anymore. But one thing is sure. That gift is her answer. She is just unable to interpret it, numbed by confusing memories and feelings.

She closes the book and caresses the cover. Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow she will go and confront him. Possibly with some wine already running through her veins, just in case she needs to absorb an unpleasant outcome. Certainly it's not something that can be done and settled on the phone, is it? Because words can be tricky and misinterpreted. Looks can't. She wants to see him. She needs to see him looking at her. And she needs Will to see her looking at him.

She considered bringing the book with her, but quickly cast the idea aside. She doesn't really need it, does she? Because the fact that she's here in front of Will's door on Boxing Day speaks for itself, and it does it pretty eloquently.

Her arm reaches out to knock but stops halfway when she hears some rowdiness inside his apartment. She hesitates, suddenly doubting and questioning her surprise visit. She shakes her head. No. She's here. She'll go the whole hog. Backing off now that she's here wouldn't make sense. And she doesn't want to anyway. She knocks twice, lightly, like she used to do in the past. She hears a loud bang and the sound of steps approaching, quickly.

Her breathing stops for a brief moment when the door opens and Will appears in front of her, surprise written all over his face. She suddenly feels nervous. Why didn't I back off while I had the chance? "Hey." That's all her mind is capable to put together right now.

"Hey." Will's voice is soft, as he steps aside to let her in.

Wavering stops her for a moment. Where will all of this lead to? What will happen once she's in? She looks down, a bit uncomfortable, then walks a few steps in. The living room is a small mess. Now she gets the noise…

"I'm sorry for the confusion," Will says as he takes his coat from the couch arm, "I…", and moves it to the kitchen counter. "I'm just back from the airport… spent Christmas day with the family," he explains with a look of apology, then takes his trolley case and moves it in to the hallway.

Alicia smiles at how he managed to redistribute the mess from the living room to the rest of the apartment. And why is he apologizing by the way? She's the one who just showed up uninvited and unexpected. She smiles and shakes her head, lowering her gaze. "No… I… I'm sorry… I should have called instead of… just… coming here."

She looks up again to see Will, standing few steps from her with a light smile.

"So, what brought you here on a feast day?" Will asks. He silently invites her to take a seat on the couch, as he sits on the sofa.

What brought her here? Okay. She sighs. Keep it simple. Don't get nervous. "I… I just wanted to thank you…" She finally lets out, with a light smile.

"For what?" Will asks with a shrug. He pretends not to know, but his eyes leak the truth. He knows perfectly well.

"The book," she said, playing along with his act.

"Oh… for that…" Will nods and smiles.

"Yes… for that…" Alicia nods, then looks down at her hands. She starts to feel them sweat and knows that she's going dangerously over the warning threshold of anxiety.

Will shrugs. "You always loved it…"

He still remembers.

"I always loved it…" She nods. She hesitates for a moment, unsure as of where she wants this conversation to go. She has to remind herself of all the feelings that flooded over her the moment she opened the package to take heart and go on with her intentions. "Why now?" She asks, and realizes that her voice is barely a whisper. She's here for a reason. She doesn't trust words, words can lie. So she forces herself to meet his gaze, searching for any kind of sign.

Will doesn't look away. He holds her gaze, serious for a moment, probably pondering the best possible answer. "I… I don't know," he shrugs. "I stumbled across it… thought about you…" He says, then looks away.

Alicia nods with a light smile and looks down. This is the answer she was waiting for, isn't it? He thought about her… She's still in his thoughts after all… "You remembered the sonnet…" Her voice is a bit quivering, she tries to relax but knows that it's pointless.

"I have a visual memory," Will tries to justify with a light shrug. But his smile tells certainly more than his words do.

What kind of game are they playing exactly? She doesn't like hide-and-go-seek. She never did. Not when it comes to feelings. Certainly not when it comes to her feelings. But if she has to be completely honest with herself, isn't that what she's done with him? Can she blame him now for withdrawing? For not wanting to break cover? If it weren't so painful, she would almost find funny their complete lack of real communication. She shakes her head in surrender and finds herself bursting in an involuntary, nervous laughter, under Will's confused and amused look. "How did we end up like this?" She asks tentatively, as she struggles to regain control of her nerves. But her face clouds the moment she catches Will's expression of hurt. She did it. She caused them to end up like this, didn't she? For a brief moment, she considers asking him what he wants, if he still wants her, if he still wants them. But she's too scared of the answer. When it comes to Will, she's never good with words. She always ends up confusing things, saying the wrong words… Why is it so difficult to be open up with him about her feelings? They shared so much over the years, that it should be the most natural act in the world. Still, she can't seem to find the way to tell him how much she cares for him, how important he was – and clearly still is – in her life.

Will has found his way of letting her know. His gift told her even more than she needs to know. If doubt had crept into her twisted and too imaginative mind that he might want to tell her goodbye for good, now she knows that it can't be any further from it.

She has no idea what to do or say to let him know how deep her feelings for him still are. But maybe, the fact that she's here speaks for her in the end. Why would she feel the need to show up at his door to thank him, when she could as well have done it by phone? If Will knows her even only a little part of what he has already proven, she's sure that he understands the level of her emotional involvement. With his gaze still fixed on her, she doesn't dare to move. Or even to breathe, for what it's worth. She just sits, motionless. If it weren't for her heart jumping in a crazy free-style dance, one could even question her state of 'alive'. Neither does she move as Will stands up, walks those couple of short steps that separate them and sits next to her, his eyes confidently fixed into hers. Not a single word needs to be spoken. So, as he leans forward, all she can do is to close her eyes in anticipation, every single nerve of her body focused to welcome and memorize the so long craved and missed touch of his lips on hers. The words of the sonnet comes to her mind again. Yet those lips so sweetly swelling, Do invite a stealing kiss: Now will I but venture this, Who will read must first learn spelling. And only in this moment she realizes why she has always found it so precious. All this time… She's always been Will's Stella…

The End.

What more can I say? I hope you enjoyed this special gift and wish you all a Merry Christmas!