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He doesn’t answer right away, and my stomach bottoms out. Why did I ask a question I didn’t want the answer to? She’s probably beautiful and perfect and treats him the way he should have always been treated.
“No wife,” he responds, and I shamefully let out a relieved breath.
“Oh. Ye-ah?” my voice cracks, and I have to clear my throat. “Why’s that?” Shut up, Holly.
“Because I never got over you.”
My lips part. My jaw slips, practically slamming against the concrete. He doesn’t say another word or stick around for my response. Just turns and disappears back inside.
The next day…
The smell of warm apple and cherry pie fills the house while Christmas music croons and crackling firewood sounds from the fireplace. It’s officially almost Christmas. Dad is in the living room watching sports while mom and I finish the last batch of pies.
The rest of the night was a total bust. By the time I gathered myself and came back inside, Liam was gone. Mom said he had other engagements, which only made me more agitated. How does one throw a bomb like he did at me and not stick around for me to grill him about it! He’s not over me. What does that even mean! And what engagements? Did he really have someone else? That thought sent me into a whirlwind where I drowned my damn jealousy with spiked eggnog.
I barely slept as I tossed and turned, my dreams all leading back to him. The way he looked at me, his hands shamelessly did things to me… Now, I’m in the worst mood ever, lacking sleep, and definitely not feeling very holiday-ish.
I slide the apple cobbler into the oven when the doorbell rings, followed by the yelling of Kelly Anne, my high school best friend.
“Where the hell is she? I mean, heck. Sorry, Mr. Bergner.” She follows the smell and finds us in the kitchen. “There she is. Our fancy city girl. Doesn’t pick up the phone and bother telling her best friend she’s finally comin’ home.”
What’s with everyone hammering on the guilt? She has a right, I suppose. I’ve been a horrible friend. We’ve kept in touch throughout the years, but it’s always been through text or email. Lots of rain checks and blown-off dates because I was always so busy with my new life. “I’m sorry. It was such a last-minute thing.”
“Yeah, yeah, get over here.” Laughing, I wipe off my hands and give her the biggest I’m an ass of a friend, but I missed you, and I’m glad to be back hug. She looks the same. Her love for bulky sweaters and leggings hasn’t died. Her hair is still big and out of control. “Lookin’ good, Bergner, but I have to ask, do they not feed you in the big city? You’re like a frail little thing.”
“I agree. She needs to eat more,” Mom pipes up in the background.
“I eat tons. How are you? How’s James? Are you two finally—”
“Getting a divorce.”
“Oh shit.”
“No, no. Don’t feel bad. It’s for the best. We love each other but not enough to try not to kill one another. It’s safer this way.” I hug my friend again because you can never have enough friend hugs.
“Well, I’m sorry anyway. But you deserve to be loved and not murdered so. . .”
We both break out into a fit of laughter. The timer on the oven goes off, but Mom waves us off.
“You two go catch up. I’ll finish in here.”
We head into the living room, where my dad is now fast asleep on the couch. Turning down the television, we share the loveseat.
“Okay, so tell me, how are things with you? Last time I checked, you were up for a fancy promotion and things were heating up with Vincent.”
I open my mouth to dish out the truth. How my life is in turmoil. That perfect job is no more. That perfect man is not so fucking perfect. I want to be honest and confide in her. She’s been my closest friend since I was in training diapers. But the way she looks at me, so excited to celebrate in my successes…my chest tightens, and the lies start to fall. “Great! It’s all great.”
Her brow turns upward. “That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna give me? What about Romeo? Any signs he’s gonna pop the question? Last time we talked, you said—”
“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s. . .he’s. . .” A cheating, lying, manipulative jerk. “He’s just so busy. We both are. We’re content with how things are for now.”
Her brows shoot up her forehead. I’d react that way too. That answer was horrible. Two stiff, boring people who are content. “Okay. . .well, now we gotta talk about Liam. You know he’s back in town, right?”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Then you must know he’s not the Liam you remember. Like, we’re talking man of steel, gritty, always frowning, but looks so hot while doing it that he melts the panties off anyone who walks by him, Liam.”
