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“She’s my best friend. I’ll make sure she gets it,” I explain, trying to convince him that I’m not just trying to steal her belongings.
But as I leave the restaurant and bundle up into my jacket, I realize that’s not quite the truth anymore. Maddie and I aren’t best friends. In fact, we’re not…anything at all anymore.
I turn left and right, wondering where she could have gone.
James’ truck is still parked behind the restaurant, so she didn’t take it back to the house. I stuff my hands into my pockets and start walking on the manicured path toward the center of Vail Village. Iron streetlamps illuminate the night. Families are everywhere. It’s the night before Christmas Eve, and the street is covered with wreaths and ornaments and twinkling lights. I keep wandering aimlessly, trying to track Maddie to no avail, and then I stumble upon a large ice-skating rink up ahead.
I see her leaning against the side wall, watching the kids on the ice.
There’s a little girl who’s captured her attention. She’s all on her own, confident and graceful as she spins on her skates. She can’t be older than seven or eight, but she looks like a little Olympian in the making.
Maddie doesn’t take her eyes off the child as I approach. I drop her jacket on the edge of the wall beside her.
She doesn’t look up at me, and she doesn’t move to take the jacket.
With the heaters placed around the ice rink, maybe she’s not too cold.
We stand side by side, watching.
The skater arcs her hands above her head like a ballerina as she spins, and then she glides right past us, close enough to touch. I peer over to see Maddie smile as a lone tear slides down her cheek.
She sniffles and looks down at her hands.
“I’m embarrassed,” she says quietly.
Her confession catches me off guard. I don’t respond, scared to break the spell.
“The Brent thing was dumb. I just…couldn’t bear the thought of coming here and seeing you on my own.”
I watch her swallow, focusing on her delicate neck under the glow of holiday lights.
“Am I that bad?” I tease.
She laughs and sniffles again, reaching up to wipe her nose.
I know there are a million things I need to say to her, but after what happened in the restaurant, I keep my mouth shut. If I want to keep Maddie with me, I’ll have to play by her rules, and right now, that means standing here and watching the skaters in silence.
I pick up her jacket and open it for her so she can slip her arms into the sleeves. Then she zips it up and reaches for her scarf. Once she’s bundled, we lean on the wall, shoulder to shoulder, and we watch.
Christmas music plays over the speakers, and I recognize the song that starts to play, “Christmas Lights” by Coldplay. I only know it because it’s one of Maddie’s favorites. Chris Martin sings that he “always loved you, darling” and he always will, and it’s hard to swallow past the lump in my throat.
I messed up.
I never should have gone to New York.
I never should have left Maddie, and now, standing beside her, I worry it’s too late to right that wrong. Whatever feelings she might have had for me are so tangled up with anger and pain that trying to extract any morsel of happiness from them will only end up hurting us in the long run.
But what’s the alternative? Leave Colorado without telling her how I feel?
Stand here and listen to a song about always loving someone and pretend that’s not exactly what I want to say to Maddie?
I must open and close my mouth fifty times, about to begin a speech filled with confessions and apologies and half-formed promises about the future, but in the end, I keep my words to myself and give her time to get used to me standing beside her. That’s all. Just us together again will have to be enough for tonight.
It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done: walking her back to James’ truck, driving her home, opening the door for her, and then watching as she strips off her layers. She stays quiet as she hangs up her jacket and scarf. I contemplate asking her if she’s hungry. She still hasn’t eaten dinner. I could make her something, but before I get the chance to offer, she’s already heading down the hall, slipping away.
Later, as I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, emotions war inside me: anger and regret and longing and this craving that’s getting harder and harder to satisfy. My hand covers my stomach as it churns. I lie still and wait like a man in a jail cell, like a caged animal in a zoo. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep another night, breathe another minute without her knowing the truth.
