“He was probably feeling hurt and didn’t know how to broach the subject with her.” Alyssa fights for love, like I knew she would.
“Still, taking everything into account, he should have been mature enough to have an honest conversation. If he really thought he might be hurting Jess’s career, he should have explained that to her and let her decide what she wanted to do. He didn’t have the right to make that choice for her.” Kennedy walks into her own kitchen and pours herself a glass of wine. Good to know my problems are so bad my friends need to drink to help me handle them.
“No way,” Alyssa argues. “How could he put her in that position, forcing her to choose between him and the success she’d always wanted? It would have been an impossible choice, and if Jess had to make it, it would have caused her a lot of pain.”
“But it was still her choice. She had the right to make it, not him.”
Alyssa shakes her head. “Nope. He did the right thing by bowing out, even if there were other, more selfish motivations at play too.”
“He broke her heart!”
“Hi, friends. I am still, in fact, sitting right here while you argue over the merits of my career and relationship status.”
Both of them look appropriately shamed.
I sigh. “Look. Assuming Nick really was conflicted about the whole career thing, I don’t really know what the best choice would have been. Honestly, I think if he hadpresented me with the situation, I probably would have chosen him, even if I did think it would hurt my book sales.” And then, chances are, I would have had the same disappointing career I do now, but I would also have had the man I love by my side for the past five years.
Kennedy wrinkles her nose. Alyssa swoons.
“And then I would have probably grown to resent him, standing by his side watching him get all the things I’m still waiting for.” I know as I speak the words, that they are undoubtedly true. If I was already struggling at the outset, how would I have felt watching Nick achieve everything he’s achieved over the past few years while I continued to struggle? I’d like to think I would have been happy for him, and I’m sure a large part of me would have—hell, even broken up, I still have looked at his career accomplishments with pride. But there would have been envy too, and I don’t know that that envy wouldn’t have eaten away at us.
Maybe Nick really did do us a favor.
A silence falls between the three of us.
“So what do I do now?” I ask after a quiet minute.
“I don’t think we can answer that for you,” Kennedy says. “Has enough really changed since then? What would be different this time around?”
“I think you just need to take care of yourself. It’s almost Christmas. Maybe you should take tonight to wallow, but spend tomorrow doing some of your favorite holiday things.”
I nod at Alyssa’s suggestion, knowing I will be spending a good chunk of the day tomorrow serving peopletheir holiday drinks while they go about their merry lives, not mired in thoughts of Christmases past.
“Whatever you decide to do, you know we’re here.” Kennedy raises her glass to me, a virtual toast.
“I know. Thank you, guys, really. You’re the best.”
“We know.”
I wave and blow them both kisses before exiting from the call and turning back to theReal Housewives. Burrowing deeper into bed, I pull the covers all the way up to my chin. I don’t know what to make of the conversation with my friends, other than no one can really tell me what to do in this situation. I know Kennedy’s right about one thing—I need to really think about what’s changed, not just for Nick, but for me too. If we give this thing a real shot, am I in a good enough place now where I can handle the differences in our careers?
In the meantime, because I have gifted myself this period of wallowing, I allow myself to really sink into it. My bed is very cold and could certainly benefit from a very hot and hunky writer warming the sheets next to me. Has my bed always been this big? It feels a lot emptier all of a sudden.
Ugh. The last thing I need to be doing right now is thinking about Nick Matthews in my bed. If we hadn’t ended up in a room with only one bed, none of this would have happened. This shit is not supposed to happen in real life.
I’m about to go pour myself some more wine—and by that I mean grab the bottle and bring it back with me—when my phone dings with a text.
I expect it to be Alyssa, gracing me with some cheerful words of wisdom, but it’s not one of my friends’ names that I see on the screen.
Nick:Did you make it home safely?
I really wish the sight of his name didn’t send a whirl of snowflakes fluttering through my chest.
Me:Yup. Home and in bed with a glass of wine and the Real Housewives.
And maybe I should be laying off the wine because he definitely didn’t need to know any of that.
Nick:Your favorite place to be. I’m glad you made it back in time for Christmas. I’m sure you’ve got big plans for your favorite holiday.
