“Kind of like you,” he says, then looks like he wished he hadn’t said it. “What would help? Do you want me to leave you alone?”
Do I want to be alone? I’m not sure. I spend most of my life alone, even though I’m surrounded by people. Other than Barb and Mirna, this is the first time in years I haven’t felt utterly alone—and it’s with Alex’s family. The irony makes my chest hurt.
“There has to be something I can do,” Tyler pleads, sounding helpless. “I don’t want to leave you alone like this.”
I draw in a deep breath, trying to get ahold of myself. The last thing I need is for someone else to find me like this. I need a distraction, and I know the person to provide it. “I think I’ll just call my friend,” I say with a small, wavering smile, even as more tears spill.
He nods, uncertain.
“Thanks for stopping and making sure I’m okay,” I say, sniffing.
“Of course,” he says. “What kind of asshole would I be if I ignored you and went inside?”
I release a short laugh as a tear slides down my cheek. “I’m sure some men would.”
He shoots a dark look up at the house, then back at me. “I’m gonna give you my number, okay?”
I narrow my eyes. “Why?”
“Because the fact my brother is upstairs and you’re down here crying alone means he’s being his usually self-centered?—”
“He doesn’t know I’m upset,” I cut in quickly. The last thing I want is to create a rift between him and Alex. “I’m sure he’d comfort me if he knew I was out here.”
“Yeah, but doesn’t the fact you’re down here crying seem like something a boyfriend should notice?”
I start to protest but stop. He’s right. “It’s complicated.”
“It always is with my brother,” he says, disappointment in his tone. “Look,” he lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. “My family can get a little overwhelming, especially once Grant and his girlfriend show up tomorrow. If you feel the need to escape, or take a breath, or just have a good cry”—he gives me a soft smile—“all you have to do is text me and I’ll create a distraction, okay? I promise I’m not hitting on you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
I consider his offer, then nod. I pull out my phone, add his number as he rattles it off, and send him an empty text so he has mine.
“I’m not planning on using that,” I say, holding up my phone.
“I hope you don’t need it,” he says. “But it’s always good to have a backup plan.” He studies me for a moment, then picks up the bags and opens the back door.
“Tyler,” I say hesitantly.
He turns to look at me.
“I’d appreciate it if you kept my little breakdown to yourself.” I grimace. “It’s… kind of embarrassing.”
“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about,” he says gently. “But I understand. Your secret is safe with me.” Then he disappears into the house.
I’m alone again, and I shiver, realizing I came outside without a coat. The sun’s shining, but it’s probably in the twenties and I’m not used to this kind of cold. Still, I need a few more minutes, so it’s not so obvious I’ve been outside crying.
And I really do want to hear Barb’s voice. I call her, and she answers on the first ring with a perky, “How goes it in Christmasland?”
A laugh slips out of me, shaky but real. “It’s Hollybrook.”
“Same difference,” she says dismissively.
My plan had been to unload everything that just happened, but now that I hear her voice, I realize I just need the comfort of it. “I baked sugar cookies this morning. And a yule log.”
“Are you going to burn the yule log in the fireplace or a bonfire?”
That pulls a laugh out of me. “Neither. We’re going to eat it.”
“Are you stayin’ with a family of beavers? I thought a yule log was a piece of wood stuffed with crap.”
