Hurrying to the door, I grasped the handle, ready to race out into the cold morning. Then my brain caught up with what we were doing and I stilled. If I was going to right the wrongs I planned to, I would need more than just my car keys and the clothes on my back.

For a moment, I didn't even know where to start. Spinning the car keys around my finger thoughtfully, my mind raced. There wasn't much time if I was to manage everything I needed to. Today I'd make time for remembering and visiting the people who mattered most to me. Penny, my parents, and Susie. If she would even see me after all this.

It didn't take long for me to gather what I needed into a carrier bag, which I hooked onto the front door handle, before hurrying up the stairs to my office. Sinking into the chair in front of my computer, ignoring its squeak of protest.

A stack of Christmas cards sat in the bottom drawer of my desk. I couldn't remember what I planned to do with them originally, but as I slowly wrote them, I was glad I hadn't done whatever it was.

Next, I carefully made a note of three addresses, before powering my computer back down and making my way back downstairs. God, I hoped this would work.

I was under no illusions that real life was nothing like the festive movies Susie loved so much. But if there was anything she had taught me, it was that taking risks definitely increased your chance of a happily ever after.

This time, when I threw the bit into the bag and grasped the front door handle, I felt far more confident that I was prepared to face what I needed to.

Throwing the bag unceremoniously on the passenger seat, I lowered myself into my car. Although I needed no guidance to the first address, I typed it into the SatNav anyway, out of habit, and set off. It was already 10 o'clock and I knew I only had a small window of time to get everything I needed to.

Soon the neatly manicured lawns of Oakhaven came into view and I rolled to a stop in front of the building. The red brick seemed to glow in the sun and I remembered Penny referring to it as her holiday home. The hospice had done wonders for her and I wasn't sure I'd ever truly be able to repay them. Perhaps this would go someway toward it though.

I gripped the steering wheel tightly and took a breath; I thought about Penny every day, but the last couple of weeks she had been on my mind a lot more than usual. What would Penny think of the things I had done and the things I was about to do today?

This particular one I knew would have delighted her, and I could hear her voice telling me to hurry up and go inside. With a smile on my lips, I obeyed and pulled the stack of cards from the bag, hurrying in before I could let nerves get the better of me.

"Henry, we weren't expecting you my love." Lucy, the cheery receptionist waved me through, "Come on in duck."

"Hey Luce, I can't stop long, but I just wanted to drop these off for all the staff." I said, handing her a stack of envelopes over the high desk.

"Oh, you could have just posted them." Lucy smiled, shuffling through to hers and beginning to open it before I could make my escape.

I tensed as something fluttered out of the Christmas card and she reached to catch it before it hit the floor. Backing up a step I stopped at her gasp. "Henry, this is too much." She said shakily clutching the fifty-pound note as though it was the golden ticket in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

"It's nothing. You guys do so much." I said backing out, "Please tell everyone I said Merry Christmas."

Lucy's eyes bulged as she noted that I used the festive greeting for the first time in the years she had known me. "And to you." She called out as the door swung shut behind me.

In the car I tried to blame my flushed cheeks on the sudden temperature change, but I couldn't deny it had felt good to do this little thing for the staff that cared for so many and got so little in return.

It was the first time I had sent Christmas cards in years and I had forgotten how special it was. A glance back at the building confirmed a few people in the reception area and I started my car quickly before they could come out and say anything, swinging it round and putting my foot down as I returned to the main road once more.

The next address on my list was going to be hard. It always was. No matter how many times I visited Penny's grave, I always left feeling the ache of her loss even sharper than before.

I needed to find somewhere to stop on the way there. The small stretch of shops that they called a high street rolled into view and I pulled up to park just behind a large red royal mail van.

Only two of the shops were open, I noted as I made a beeline for the florist. Well it was Christmas Eve. What had I expected? There were two other men in the queue just ahead of me, both looking equally baffled as the florist passionately explained about seasons and availability.

"What flowers are best to symbolise an apology?" I interrupted, conscious of the time slipping away.

"Well white tulips, roses and orchids can all represent a sorry. I suppose purple hyacinths symbolise regret so that could work." The florist replied thoughtfully, glancing around.

"Which ones are the hyacinths?" I asked, keen to get what I needed and get on my way.

The man pointed to a selection of yellow pots with large green shoots in the centre and a hint of purple buds showing through.

The other two men exchanged a look and immediately dived for a pot each and my eyes widened as I collected what was now the last one.

Considering what I was doing today I retrieved a bunch of white roses as well. When it was my turn to pay the florist noted both items and held out the card machine, "You got lots to apologise for?" He asked somewhat conversationally.

I nodded as I juggled the flowers as I pulled out my wallet and pressed it to the contactless card to the reader.

"Good time of year for it. Who refuses to accept an apology at Christmas?"

I thanked him and headed back towards the car. If only it were that simple.

Driving this route was more like muscle memory as I found myself in the familiar muddy church car park. It has been a while since I had visited Penny and a pang of guilt went through my chest at the thought. Still, I always visited her at Christmas time. It had been her favourite time of year and though isolation had prevented me doing so until now, I was relieved I had still made it.

Plucking a single white rose from the bunch, I climbed out of the car and made my way through the graveyard.

My feet moved without me telling them to. Weaving through the rows of graves until I reached hers.

The recently replaced flowers in the vase by her stone confirmed my parents had been in the last day or so. I knelt beside it, pulling out two of the wilting red flowers from the set, and adding in my own single white bloom.

Sitting back on my heels, I sucked in a deep breath and just let myself be in the moment. People often visited graves of their loved ones to feel closer to them, but as I took in the silence and the carved stone, I found myself reminded about just how far away she was.

There was a hollow space inside of me, where my sister should be. It was supposed to be filled with memories of a life she was living, not the grief I carried instead.

Far enough that I couldn't hear her laughter or see her smile. Or tease her as we had when we were children.

"I miss you." I whispered softly, hand brushing away some of the leaves that found their way onto her grave. But despite my words, the stone was silent in its response.

Letting my eyes drift shut, I conjured up the memory of her face. "I've met someone." I whispered. "I think you'd like her."

A soft chuckle escaped me as I imagined her waggling her brows and encouraging me to tell her more. "I know she would have liked you. You're both annoyingly optimistic and frustratingly festive."

For a second I thought I could hear her laughter on the breeze and my lip curved into an answering smile, before my face fell again.

"But I'm scared I've fucked it up Penny. I'm hoping I can fix it." I blew out a breath, "I just don't know if I can."

The freezing cold of the ground was seeping into my legs when I finally let my eyes open and took in the stone. "I wish you were here to give me advice, Pen."

A strong wind ruffled my hair, almost making me lose my balance as I moved to stand, brushing off my knees as I did. Perhaps that was Penny telling me to stop wasting time and get on with it.

Taking her prompt, I followed the winding path back to the carpark slowly.

The next place I needed to head to was familiar as well, but it had been a long time since I had last visited it.

When the pretty little Tudor cottage - which had been my childhood home - came into view, I found my heart filled with an almost Susie-like hope.

I prayed to any God who would listen for a sign that this was the right thing to do as I slipped from the car, hyacinths in hand.

When I finally reached the familiar wooden door, my hand hovered between the bell and knocking. I had to blink back tears as every water pistol fight and cardboard sword battle floods my senses. Penny's voice, her presence, rang in my ears and clouded my mind.

The click of the door opening took the decision from me and startled me back to the present. The occupant let out a startled gasp as my mother's gaze met my own.

Her pale blue eyes widened and immediately filled with tears.

"What's wrong-" My father's low voice came from down the hall, but died off as soon as he poked his head around and took me in.

I couldn't decipher either of their expressions to know how they felt. It didn't really matter either way as I took a deep breath, "You don't have to say anything, not right now, or ever if you don't want to. But I need to say a few things and I feel like Christmas is as good a time as any to do this."

I paused for a beat, waiting for a rejection or slammed door that never came. They both just watched me silently. Mum with a trembling hand at her mouth and tears slipping down her cheeks, and Dad with the same stoic silence I remembered from him.

"Losing Penny was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Knowing I could have prevented it and given her a few more years, that perhaps she would still be here today eats me up inside, and I want you to know that there is no way you could ever hate me more than I already hate myself."

The words spilled out of me, with no way to stop them or take them back as my Dad wrapped an arm around Mum. As soon as I opened this gate I couldn't stop the words that had waited three years to burst free from me.

"I know you don't want to believe it, but it was what Penny wanted and probably why she wanted me to hide it from you. She was so tired and so ready to go." I bit back a sob, "We were the ones not ready for her to leave and we are the ones that had to go on living without her. It doesn't seem right or fair but nothing about a terminal illness ever is. When you found out, I knew you wouldn't be happy. I half-hoped you would never know so it would only be me living with that guilt every day."

I paused again to clear my throat, and swallow back the tears welling up. Neither of my parents decided to interject so I went on, "Then you threw me out and said you never wanted to see me again. You had each other for comfort and to share in your grief, to get through it together. I had no one. You were supposed to be my parents too, and I needed you. I've needed you more than ever over these last three years."

Mum was crying harder, her shoulders shaking with the silent sob, but I was almost done and I couldn't stop. "I understand that I hurt you and that the loss of Penny hurt you, but I don't understand never reaching out. It has been years." I looked down at the pot in my hands, "These are purple hyacinths. They are supposed to symbolise regret." I said quietly, offering the pot to Mum.

Her face was tear-stained as she took in the gift and reached out to accept my peace offering.

"We are not going to be like we once were, perhaps ever but I would like it if we could talk. Christmas is the season of giving and maybe this year we can agree to give each other another chance?" I added quietly, parroting the part of Susie's letter that had made me drive out here today.

I might not be able to win her back, but the impact she had made on my life? Perhaps it could connect me with my parents again.

"Son, I...I'm sorry." Dad shook his head.

"Yeah Dad. Me too." I shrugged my shoulders sadly, "Like I said, you don't have to say anything. I've said what I needed to say, it's up to you if you want to do anything with this. You have my number. I never changed it in case you changed your mind and decided to reach out."

I began my retreat up the path feeling oddly exhausted at the cathartic release of finally speaking to them. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Mum open her mouth to protest or say something, but she couldn't find the words and I was glad of that. I needed a little time to recover from that huge vent of feelings and bottled up hurt from the last three years.

Closing the gate quietly behind me, I looked up the path at my parents. A sight painfully similar to one I had seen just a few years ago. Right before a door had slammed, and they shut me out of their grief and their lives.

Whilst I was relieved to see the door didn't slam this time, it didn't take away the pain of the time it did. Turning my back on them, I headed for the car, telling myself not to look at them again.

Slipping into the car, I took a moment staring at the steering wheel and my fingers going white where I gripped it so tightly.

Each breath a struggle as I battled with the emotional onslaught of facing them. A glance sideways told me my parents were still standing where I had left them. Mum tucked the plant against her side to lift one hand in a hesitant wave goodbye.

I gave a nod and felt hope bloom in my chest again before I reached for my phone and typed in the final address on my list.

Google maps confirmed it was a thirty-eight minute drive. That was thirty-eight minutes to calm down and get my head straight before I got there. Thirty-eight minutes to plan what I wanted to say.

It didn't seem like enough, but with the light fading and Christmas Eve almost over, I knew what I had to do. I needed a little Christmas miracle. I needed to get to the woman I loved.