Page 20 of This Christmas

Those were the days.

Something tells me to look up to the massive windows on the second floor. In one window, there’s a lit Christmas tree and standing next to it, glowing from the backlight, is Evangeline. In case she’s watching me, I wave. I’m sure from there, I’m nothing more than a blob. Or if she can even see someone standing outside. If she can, she’s probably going to call the cops. No one wants to see some shady person looking inside their home in the middle of the night.

Still, I don’t take my eyes off her until she disappears from the window. After a few seconds longer than it should take me, I resign myself to walking back to my truck. But the door opens and Eve stands there.

“What are you doing out in the snowstorm?” She yells across the street.

“Is this what you call a storm these days?”

“It’s more snow than you’ve seen in the past five years, I’m sure.”

I laugh loudly. She’s mostly right. We did have a nor’easter come through not too long ago, but the snow didn’t last. Not like it does here.

“I know I’m going to regret this, but do you want to come in? Get dried off?”

“That would be great.” I cross the street, trudging through the unplowed snow and am greeted by one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid my eyes on. The other is back at the Inn, sound asleep and not caring that I’m out in the middle of a snowstorm.

NINE

EVANGELINE

Inviting Zane into my home in the middle of the night is going to go down in history as one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Yet, here I am, in my flannel pajamas, with my hair in a bun, holding the door open for him because I’m a sucker for heartache. He doesn’t love me and hasn’t for a long time. Much longer than I stopped loving him or told myself I didn’t.

When he steps into the hallway of my private entrance, his cologne surrounds me. I use the excuse of having to close the door to center myself. He doesn’t need to see the anguish on my face and thankfully, he can’t hear how loudly my heart thumps. The last time we were this close, we stood on the Amtrak platform and said goodbye to each other. If I knew that was the last time I was going to see him . . . well, I don’t know what I would’ve done.

Begged him to stay.

“My place is up the stairs,” I tell him after he’s taken his coat off and hung it on the peg. He slips hisboots off, as well. Earlier, when I saw him, he had them tied, which Vermonters laugh about. No one ties their boots unless they’re going hiking, or there’s snow all over them. Now, they’re loose, like he used to wear them.

I follow him upstairs, needing to be behind him for self-conscious reasons. His fiancée is gorgeous, skinny, and impeccably dressed, although not for Vermont. She’s even perfect when her backside is covered in mud. Even her makeup stayed flawless despite her tears. I don’t need to remind Zane of the extra padding I’ve always had on my hips.

“Holy—”

“Night,” I interrupt him before he can use the non-Christmas euphemism.

“Yeah, something like that,” Zane says as he steps into my living room. “This place is amazing. Did you do this?”

“No, the previous owner did it. I bought it after the renovations were complete. It’s convenient because I can live and work in the same place.”

I watch Zane as he takes in my living space. The black walls accent the exposed beams and bricks. Of course, the Christmas decorations give the room a lot more life.

“I remember when this place was a conference room and had a storage area. The firemen had their beds over there, in the corner. Do you remember when we used to jump on them?” Zane asks me.

“Yes, I do. I remember my grandfather used to getso angry with us because he thought we were up here destroying things.”

“Do you remember sliding down the pole?”

I motion for Zane to follow me toward the back but keep him away from my bedroom. I point to the brass pole sticking up through the floor.

“Is it still usable?”

“Yes, but it’s not something I use ever.”

“If I’m being honest, I’m jealous. I’d slide down it every day to start my morning.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Maybe later,” I tell him. It’ll never happen because after tonight, I’m going to put some necessary distance between us. My heart can’t take this.

Zane continues to look around and walks toward my windows. “The view from here is amazing.”