Me:I don’t have plans for Christmas Day, actually. Alyssa was supposed to come up before the storm canceled her flight, and my parents are out of town.
Me:But none of that matters to you because we are supposed to be not talking right now.
I type and send the message, but I don’t really feel any truth in the words. If anything, I find myself wanting to talk to him.
Nick:Shit. I’m sorry. You told me you need space and I fully plan to give it to you.
Nick:I just miss you already.
Nick:And I’m sorry, again. For everything.
Nick:Have a merry Christmas, Jess.
Me:Yeah. You too.
My fingers dig into the sides of my phone, and it’s a good thing it’s made of strong stuff because my grip is so tight I’m surprised the whole thing doesn’t snap in half.
He misses me.
It’s easy to believe that part of it, because even though I don’t really want to admit it to myself, I miss him too. Having Nick back in my life, just for a few short days, was enough to remind me how good we were together. And even if I can’t end up forgiving him, or if it does turn out neither of us has grown enough to be able to come back together in a healthy relationship, it doesn’t change the fact that I really loved him.
That I might love him still.
I jump up from my bed, thankful that I am the kind of person who never immediately unpacks after returning from a trip because it means my laptop is still in my bag at the foot of my bed. I grab my computer and bring it with me back under the covers.
Nick and I still haven’t figured out how we want to end our story, but right now, I’m in the perfect mental state to write a devastating third-act breakup.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nick
The moment I’m back in the quiet of my hotel room after saying goodbye to Gina, I take out my phone, but I’m not sure who I want to call. Marcus would be the obvious choice, but we’re not the kind of friends who talk about emotions, not real ones. And part of this is his fault.
I could call Hilary, but technically she is on vacation, and while I’m sure she would listen, and willingly so, I can’t help but shake the feeling that she would only pick up the phone because I’m her boss.
I sink onto the side of the hotel bed, my phone still in my hand. Before I give myself the chance to fully consider what I’m doing, I pull up my mom’s cell number and dial.
“Nicky!” She answers right away, the brightness in her voice genuine. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until Christmas.”
“I hope it’s okay that I called.”
“Of course it’s okay. You can call anytime. You know that.”
I do know that. Even if things haven’t always been greatbetween us, I’ve never doubted that my family would be there if I really needed them. I just haven’t ever really taken them up on that offer of support. Partly because of lingering resentment from my childhood, but also partly because I’ve never wanted to give them the chance to be there for me.
“Is everything okay?” my mom asks after a minute of silence.
I let out a long sigh. “I’m not sure, Mom. Something happened this week, and I was hoping I could maybe get your advice.”
“I don’t know if I have any good advice, but if nothing else, I’m willing to listen.”
She’s willing to listen, and so I talk. I tell her everything, about the breakup from five years ago, the way I’ve never been able to fully move on, what it felt like to see Jess again, the creative spark of writing with her, and most importantly, how it felt watching her walk away.
My mom listens, giving me her full attention and plenty of sympathetic sounds.
“And she asked for space, and I want to make sure I respect that, but I also want her to know how much she means to me, and that I’m willing to do whatever she needs to make it work between us,” I finally finish.
“Is there a way you can give her space and do this grand gesture thing you were talking about?”
