If there was one thing Susie Miller was good at, it was Christmas. If there was one thing she was not really quite so good at, it was keeping secrets.

I could hear her giggling from the other room. It was a sound that made me smile, against my will. Like babies laughing, I just couldn't help but respond in kind.

It only took me asking twice what she was looking at to make her cave, and the sparkle in her eyes told me that even without me asking, she couldn't have kept it to herself for much longer.

I mentally shook my head. This girl would never make a master spy if her 'secret' plan went covert, to team building, roughly twenty minutes after she started making it.

"I know you said you don't like Christmas-" Susie started, her big eyes looking hopefully at me across the table.

"I didn't say I don't like it, just that I don't do it." I corrected, suspicious about where this discussion might lead.

"Well, I do like Christmas, actually I love Christmas. And it's not really Christmas without tinsel, food and decorations." Susie explained.

"Right..." I didn't like where this line of conversation was taking my beautiful house and its minimal décor.

"So I may have ordered a few little bits, just to up-sparkle the place." She said, shooting me a happy smile.

"Up-sparkle?" I raised my eyebrows, so they nearly disappeared under my hair.

"Oh yeah, it's my mum's word. It's like up-cycling but getting your Christmas on!" Susie laughed.

What the hell had I let myself in for? "Getting my Christmas on?" I repeated slowly.

I wasn't sure if it was her obvious joy, or if the idea of festivities had short-circuited my brain but I didn't quite know how to respond or form a sentence anymore.

"I've only ordered a few bits. Just to cheer the place up. Oh, and I got some bits to make cookies and a gingerbread house too." Susie bounced a little in her seat, unable to contain her excitement.

I looked up at the ceiling for a moment. It was usually easier to fight the onslaught of memories of my mum decorating the house and attempting to tidy up the mess Penny and I made of putting up the tree.

Brief flashes I was usually able to push down, but these? It was as though every mention Susie made of Christmas dragged me back to the times I wanted to avoid thinking about.

How the hell was I going to survive the coming days if every one of them would test me like this?

"Did you order any normal food when you did that?" I asked in a surprisingly calm voice.

She refused to make eye contact, which gave me all the answers I needed. "Well, not quite. But I can do that in a minute?" she offered.

I shook my head, trying to hide my amusement, "I already did. I just wanted to make sure we weren't going to double up."

Her body immediately relaxed, and her smile returned in full force. Happiness that strong should surely come with a warning for those of us around her?

"Ok," she said with a relieved laugh. "I hate shopping for food online. It lacks the excitement of being in the shop surrounded by people and picking the best apple of the bunch. Even shopping for Christmas decorations online just now was frustrating."

I took a large mouthful of salad to give myself time to process the realisation of just who I had invited into my home. Susie and I couldn't have been more different from one another. She was the type who preferred actually going out and shopping. I loved that it could be done so easily from a phone or computer, with blessedly little human interaction.

In the short time I had known her, it had become clear to me that Susie was a people person. It was a wonder she hadn't lost her mind during lockdown. I remembered watching her during the interview. So full of excitement and enthusiasm about coming into the office and seeing people. We hadn't seen that in anyone else we interviewed, and it made her really stand out.

"So you don't mind the decking of your halls?" Susie asked a little nervously.

I bit back a smile at the odd choice of wording, and noted the determined set of her chin. "You say that like I have a choice." I replied dryly. "This is my home." I reminded her, wondering why I wasn't more irritated by her obsession.

"Well, for the next couple of weeks it's kind of our home when you think about it." She grinned at me.

Our home? I almost liked the sound of that. "My home." I told her firmly.

She shrugged her shoulders. "If you say so. I just think you'd enjoy this all a lot more if you embrace it. But it's nice to know you won't completely hate me for it."

I felt some of the annoyance I felt at her taking over, softened. "I could never hate you," I told her, "Though it's clear you do like to wind me up."

"Me? Never!" Susie laughed, clasping a hand dramatically to her chest.

I chuckled despite myself at her terrible acting. My eyes lingering a little too long on the hand on her chest before catching myself and looking away quickly. Oh, this was dangerous.

The more time I spent with Susie, the harder it was to remember how important it was to maintain a distance between us. She seemed totally carefree and unaware of the effect she had on everyone around her. Most of all, me.

Six weeks of pretending not to notice her and the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed would be all for nothing if I didn't get my heart back in check. I wouldn't be good for her, and it was clear she deserved a far better man than I could ever hope to be.

I winced as the final words my mother had screamed at me, flashed through my mind. "I can't believe I raised such a heartless monster."

Susie was too sweet and full of joy to even consider being with me. She needed someone who radiated the same innate goodness. Someone who deserved the look of gratitude she was currently giving me as my agreement to her plan.

She was like no other woman I had been with. None of them found joy in anything that didn't have five stars or a designer label.

Surely I could handle whatever Susie threw at me for the couple of weeks she was here? As long as she rewarded me with those smiles, I was sure I would be wrapped around her little finger before I knew it.

"Oh, one more thing."

I had spoken too soon. This woman was going to break me and I knew I couldn't deny her whatever she said. No matter how much it caused chaos. I inhaled deeply through my nose before looking at her expectantly.

"Are you planning to use those oranges for anything?" Susie pointed to the fruit bowl.

I raised a brow, "You mean aside from eating them? No."

"Can we make pomander balls with them?"

I snorted. "Pom- what are you talking about? I swear you are just making up random words now."

Susie gave me a look of disbelief, as though this was something everyone knew about and it was totally insane that I didn't. "Pomander balls. It's just another way of saying oranges studded with cloves. You make them over winter to make your house smell good." She explained slowly.

I shook my head slightly. "Are you saying my house smells bad?"

Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh my gosh, no. Definitely not. They just make your house smell Christmassy. You've not heard of them?"

I snorted. If I didn't know better, I would have assumed she was having me on. But that expression was far too earnest, and I wasn't entirely sure she was even capable of a successful poker face when lying.

"The more I discuss Christmas traditions with other people, the more I'm starting to see how Christmas mad my family are." She laughed.

"You think." I muttered, shaking my head.

Undeterred by my lack of enthusiasm, she ploughed on, "I noticed you have cloves in your cupboard. They would be the perfect easy-to-make Christmas decoration and we can do them today."

I thought for a moment, debating whether it was worth fighting her on this when honestly, it sounded like quite a nice idea to make the house smell nice. A bit like a scented candle.

The look of hope in her was too much and I couldn't bear to crush it, even to make sure she kept her distance from me. I nodded, "If you want, I've got a work call in a bit so you can do it then."

Her face fell in disappointment. "Oh, I thought we could do it together?"

"It's not really my thing." I said, repeating what I had told her the night before.

"I don't understand how making nice smelling Christmas bits can be not your thing?" Susie huffed.

Her attitude was bordering on disrespect now, and I gave her a warning look. "I told you Susie, I don't do Christmas."

How could I make her understand that taking part in all those Christmas traditions stirred up memories I wasn't ready to revisit?

"But how can you not do Christmas? Don't you celebrate or do little things with your family this time of year?" Susie asked, her head tilted in confusion.

Family. That was laughable. It was clear from the call with her parents how close she was to her own. She could never understand what it was like to go through what I had gone through with mine.

"No, I don't do anything with my family," I replied coldly, "Not anymore."

"Oh, but you used to then? Why not bring it back, get in the festive spirit Mr Scrooge." Susie encouraged brightly.

Her words pulled me back to a memory of Penny and I as children calling our father Scrooge and giggling our heads off. He had been furious at us for using the letters he had received to make snowflakes and decorating the tree with them.

It was like a knife to the heart being pulled back to the present and remembering all that I had lost.

"It's the season of giving, so just give in and have some festive family fun." She teased, totally oblivious to the tenuous hold I had on my composure, "You know you want to."

Something inside me snapped, and I lost it. Of course I wanted to.

"I can't do anything Christmas related because it reminds me of Penny!" I shouted, guilt snaking through my heart when Susie flinched at my tone. But I was too far gone into the pain of the events just a few Christmases ago to stop now.

"And I don't do anything with my family because it's my fault she's dead and they will never forgive me for it."