He gave a slow nod. “It was a surprise, yes.”
“A surprise.” That was a good way to put it.
His jaw tightened even though his voice stayed maddeningly calm. “It’s not like we’re together, Brielle. You’ve said that pretty clearly. Several times. You don’t need to give me any kind of excuse if that is what you are worried about here.”
“I’m not giving you an excuse.”
“Then why are you down here?” he asked.
I… That’s not fair,” I said softly.
“Isn’t it?”
Silence fell between us like dust, thick and hard to shake. I felt him shift beside me, felt the way our shoulders accidentally brushed. At some point, I was watching his mouth again. God, I needed to stop doing that.
But Josh leaned in, just slightly, and my breath caught. He smelled like his eucalyptus bodywash again, something that made me think of that night on the couch and of everything we hadn’t said since.
I swayed toward him.
And then he pulled back.
“You know what? I know where this is going here,” he said suddenly, shaking his head. “We’ve already had this conversation. A few times now. I keep hoping you’ll say something different, but you don’t, and I can’t keep having you tell me that you’re not interested in something between us over and over again. I can’t do it. Don’t do it to me.”
“Josh—”
“No,” he cut in gently, almost like he didn’t want to hear himself say it. “It’s okay. You’ve been clear. I’m the one who wasn’t listening. I’m the one still getting jealous enough that you come down here wanting to fix things. That’s on me.”
“You didn’t?—”
“I did.” He ran a hand through his hair, then rested his arms on his knees. “But it won’t be a problem much longer. I’m moving out in the new year, like I planned. We’ll just … clean-slate it. Pretend none of this ever happened.”
“You’re moving out.” My voice was barely a whisper.
“That was always the plan, Bri.” He didn’t say it harshly, just with finality. Like the kind of truth that’d been sitting in your chest for a while, waiting for permission to breathe.
It was true. He’d said it before. I just hadn’t really believed it until now. Or maybe I hadn’t wanted to.
“Just be happy now, Brielle.”
I looked at him, at the profile of the boy I used to sneak glances at in high school. The man he’d become since. “Are you?”
He exhaled a long breath that seemed to pull from somewhere deeper than his lungs. His voice, when it came, was quiet enough to make me ache.
“I want to be.”
twenty-seven
Mrs. Hutton flittedaround the house with careful intention. She polished the holiday glassware and requested Mr. Hutton hang just a few more ornaments—ones she’d mysteriously rediscovered in a box labeledChristmas ’99and insisted were crucial to the “overall aesthetic.”
“It’s classic!”
She clicked on every last strand of lights she’d carefully strung up earlier in the week until the entire house was glowing. Warm, welcoming. Blinding.
The kind of warmth that made me want to crawl into a corner and hide.
“Wear this.”
I blinked down at the folded sweater Gina shoved into my hands. Forest green. Speckled with faint gold thread. Soft and festive. Just the right amount of cozy to scream,I’m approachable, but not I’m in emotional chaos!
