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I finish the rest of my hot cocoa, loving the little hint of peppermint. The town bells start to ring, signaling the lighting ceremony is about to begin. I look around, searching for my parents, when I’m halted by the sight of Liam. He’s standing on the other side of the tree. I try to glance past him, but he captures my attention, holding my gaze. He’s blank-faced, showing no emotion, and I can’t help but wonder what’s made him so cold. The Liam I used to know always smiled. His laughter would make my heart flutter. Now, he seems so jaded. Angry. I assumed it was his hatred toward me, but I think there’s more to it. There’s a story there, and I’m guessing it’s not pretty. I wonder where he’s been all these years. Has he thought of me? Does he have regrets like I do?
The first year away from home—away from him—was agony. I was living in my own personal hell and knew there was no way I was ever going to crawl out. I missed him. I missed us. I cried myself to sleep for months, wishing I could take back all the horrible things I said. What if we hadn’t been so angry that night? I should have fought harder for him to stay. But he should have fought harder not to let me go.
Liam and I were a force. We hadn’t just loved each other; we’d owned each other. Our souls had been linked indescribably. I could feel his heartbeat inside me. Hear his every thought. It was something intrinsic and hard to define.
We were going to run away together. Build a house on a hill with a white picket fence. Have our kids and dogs. I was going to open a bakery, and he would become a firefighter or a doctor. We were going to be forever.
“Holls, you gotta hurry.”
“Where are we going? The lighting ceremony is about to start. Our parents are gonna be mad if we’re not there.” He doesn’t answer me, just holds my hand as we rush through the crowd, squeezing through people until we’re behind the gigantic tree. “Liam—”
“Shhh…”
He sneaks us past the “Do Not Enter” sign, past the wires and electrical boxes, then tells me to kneel and guides us into the tree. “Liam, are you insane? We’re gonna get electrocuted! They’re about to light the. . .”
He tugs me farther until we’re at the center of the Christmas tree. It’s been hollowed out. “Liam, how’d you do this—”
“Lie down.”
“This is in—”
“Just do it.”
Pursing my lips, I do as he says. He reaches for my hand, weaving his fingers through mine. The townspeople begin the countdown from beyond the tree. When they hit one, my breath is stolen as the entire tree explodes in the most hypnotizing colors.
“It’s. . .beautiful,” I whisper, enamored by the scenery. He turns on his side. “We’re going to have a life even more beautiful than this. Remember this moment. Hold on to it. One day, it will be ours. . .”
It wasn’t a proposal, but it was as close as we got.
A couple months later, my brother, the hero of our family, died. Billy had plans to go to college, get married, and become someone wonderful. He’d brag that he was going to become a doctor or a lawyer offering free legal aid to the less fortunate who don’t have the means to get counsel. His dreams were colossal. But so was his heart. He hated seeing the other part of the world suffer. Without thought, he joined the Peace Corps. It was his way of giving back. College was put on hold, and before the news even settled in, he was gone.
His letters barely numbed the pain of his absence. My parents didn’t understand his choices, and I was angry at him for leaving me. But while we were suffering with his decision, he was immersing himself in underdeveloped countries, making this world a better place. He promised us he would be back once he made his mark on humanity.
Billy was on a volunteer mission, transporting supplies to a local village when his Humvee was attacked.
He was gone for under a year. He never came home.
My world shattered. It broke my parents.
After that, all of our lives fell apart.
“I remember this being one of our favorite times of the year.” I’m pulled from my thoughts, not realizing Liam had moved. He’s like a giant next to me. I have to crane my neck to look at him. I wish I could turn off my emotions and not feel this connection. No matter the time lost or mound of regrets, he still owns me.
I clear my throat and stare back off into the crowd. “That time doesn’t exist anymore.” Mayor Riley starts speaking through the intercom, reciting his annual holiday speech, cutting off further conversation. I smile at my mom when she gets recognition for her pie donation, then my dad when he’s mentioned as having donated a portion of the lights for the tree. He continues going through a list of people who contributed until I hear Liam’s name.
