Reggie and Carol rushed into the living room to console their distraught daughter, still trembling with outrage.

"What a horrible, horrible man," her mom said, wrapping her arms around Maddy.

"If your mother hadn't barred the bedroom door, I would've socked that jackass right in the chops." Reggie seethed. "Excuse my language."

"If I hadn't seen him with that other woman," Maddy said, her anger transforming into grief. "Who knows how long he would have kept playing me?"

After a thoughtful pause, Carol said, "You think maybe Nathan's right about coincidences?"

Maddy shrugged, then suddenly her eyes went wide. "The cinnamon rolls!"

She burst into the kitchen, threw open the oven door, and pulled out a tray of blackened pastries. They smoked like charcoal briquets.

Maddy muscled the kitchen window open and fanned the smoke with a dishtowel but it was too late. The smoke detector went off, screeching an ear-piercing series of warning alarms.

Reggie and Carol covered their ears.

Maddy clambered up onto the table, fanning the smoke away from the ceiling-mounted detector. Eventually, the alarm stopped.

When she climbed down from the table, Maddy found her dad standing at the sink, scraping the ashen coating from a burnt roll with a butter knife. "You know," he said. "I think some of these are salvageable."

"Oh, Reggie." His wife shook her head.

Maddy continued waving the dishtowel as the smoke dissipated.

"Call Nathan," Carol said.

"I don't know what to say to him."

"You can start with Merry Christmas," her dad said.

Carol added, "Tell him you're through with George."

"Yeah, I guess I owe him that." Maddy stepped into the living room, phone in hand, and called. Nathan didn't answer so she called again. Still no answer.

She texted: Hey, give me a call, okay?

When she didn't get a call or a response to her text, she slumped down onto the couch.

Her mom approached, her dad trailing.

"He's not answering," Maddy said.

"Tell him in person," her dad suggested through a mouthful of charred cinnamon roll.

"First, I don't want to leave you guys here on Christmas Day and second, I don't know exactly where he lives."

"What?" Reggie brushed crumbs from his pajama shirt. "You don't know how to use the internet?"

........

Thirty minutes later, in a Chinatown neighborhood, Maddy exited her Uber. She paced across the slush-covered street and onto the sidewalk searching for Nathan's apartment building. Faded canvas awnings sagged under the weight of snow. Rows of bright vertical signs emblazoned with Chinese characters lined the street. The only English banners were advertisements for tea, back and foot rubs, and a placard clinging to a red brick building that read: New World Hotel.

Residents and tourists funneled around street vendors' tables.

"Eight twenty-two," Maddy said to herself, scanning the addresses. "Eight twenty-six, eight twenty-eight..."

She came upon an old metal gate at the top of a set of cracked concrete steps, which led to a basement apartment nestled between a souvenir shop and a small restaurant where a line of diners waited to enter.

Barely visible above a rusted mailbox was 832.

Apparently, this was Nathan's studio apartment. She opened the creaky gate and carefully made her way down the slippery steps. She checked her phone for missed calls or messages before she rang the doorbell.

"Come on, Nathan," she mumbled.

No response. She pushed the doorbell again and knocked. No Nathan.

She pressed her forehead against the tiny window at the top of the front door, cupping her hands around her eyes. The room was dark and quiet, indicating no one was home.

She climbed the stairs up to street level and called again. Her call rolled to voicemail.

"You looking for Nathan?" asked a friendly man wearing a tweed newsboy hat, a lit cigarette dangling from his lower lip.

Maddy nodded.

"He just left about ten minutes ago." He pointed, smoke streaming from his nostrils. "I saw him walk in that direction."

"Are you sure it was him? Nathan Garvey?"

The man smiled. "He's hard to miss." The tip of his cigarette glowed as he took a long drag. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she replied. Maddy jogged through the Christmas Day crowd dialing her phone again. Still no answer.

"C'mon, Nathan. Answer your phone."

The bustling streets were filled with unfamiliar chatter and aromas rising into the cold winter sky. She stopped at the corner, looking in both directions. Her spirits lifted when she saw a guy with a ridiculous-looking striped knit hat enter a shop about a half-block away. She navigated down the sidewalk and entered the small neighborhood store where colored paper balls hung from wires running across the ceiling. An assortment of Asian packaged goods was displayed in wooden racks.

When Maddy saw the man wearing the striped hat who looked nothing like Nathan, she exited the shop. She made a left at the next intersection, ready to give up her search when, from a distance, a tall guy in a hideous sweater caught her eye.

Nathan exited a shop folding a slice of pizza. He wore a light-up Christmas sweater, the ugliest sweater on the planet, no contest. He scuffed down the sidewalk, head hung, munching on his pizza.

She weaved her way through pedestrian traffic, finally shouting, "Hey, you! Guy with the ugly light-up sweater."

Nathan turned.

As she approached, she asked, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Maddy!" He straightened, squinting to ensure that he was really seeing her. His goofy smile broke across his face once he became convinced that he wasn't hallucinating. "I gotta find a new phone charger. My battery died last night."

She replied, "I have a message I need to deliver in person," then rushed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. They locked in a long, fiery kiss, the pizza falling out of his grasp onto the sidewalk.

"I love you, Maddy," he said breathlessly. "I just haven't been very good at showing you how much."

"Well, you can start right now."

He kissed her as though his life depended on it. After a prolonged passionate kiss, he asked, "Wanna do some lunch?"

"Wait. What?! I thought we were going back to your place." She glanced down at the remains of the slice of pizza lying on the sidewalk. "Didn't you just have some pizza? You taste like tomato sauce."

"I had a bite or two but I'm weak from hunger. I won't be at my best without nourishment."

"I don't have time for lunch. I gotta get back home to my parents. I thought maybe just a quick–"

"Where? You mean my studio?"

She nodded.

"There's no way I'm taking you down to that dungeon. The place probably holds the record for most health code violations per square foot of any rental space ever."

A small laugh escaped her lips.

"Plus it smells like someone cooked egg salad in an old shoe."

"Okay, so come home with me. My parents are leaving the day after tomorrow. We'll have the place to ourselves."

A trio of girls walking by giggled at Nathan's sweater.

"Zip up your jacket," Maddy said. "Can you do that?"

"I like this sweater. It's quirky."

"It looks like a psychotic elf knitted it."

"What part of that wasn't rude?"

She zipped up his jacket, grabbed his lapels, then pulled his face closer for a meaningful kiss.

"So, am I reading you right?" Nathan said. "Does this mean we're a thing again?"

"Let's just enjoy Christmas and see where it goes from there."