Page 52 of This Christmas
“Uh . . .”
“How about I hire someone?”
“Why can’t you come do it?”
I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “That’s not going to work, Caryn.”
“Why not? Is the life we had so bad?”
“Yes and no,” I say, sighing. I pull over to the side of the road, put my SUV in park, and turn my hazards on. The problem with that is someone will undoubtedly stop to see if I need help.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she says.
“When did you find out about me?”
“What do you mean?”
“The day we met was this the first time you knew who I was?”
Caryn is silent for a long moment.
“Caryn?”
“Um...”
“When?”
“I don’t want you to be mad, Zane.”
“Tell me, please?”
Caryn sighs. “I first saw you at this thing my dad went to at some school to look for employees. Serena and I were walking around and there you were. We followed you around and Serena came up with the idea for my dad to talk to you. I told him I wanted you in New York.”
My eyes well up with tears and my throat squeezes. “What you did...”
“Nothing, Zane. I showed you a life that you could only dream of.”
I shake my head. “No, what you did was take me from the life I had dreamed of for as long as I could remember.”
“No one thrives in a small town.”
“Sometimes, it’s not about prospering, Caryn. Tellyou what, if you can’t be bothered to pack and send my things, then toss them out.” I bang my fist on the steering wheel. “No, you know what, those are clothes you bought me, and I don’t want them.”
“Zane...”
“Goodbye, Caryn.”
NINETEEN
EVANGELINE
Tomorrow is Christmas. It’s supposed to be happy and joyous. I am those feelings wrapped in a nice bow, but also more. It’s odd to describe but I feel like I’m teetering on the cusp of love and heartbreak. It’s hard to put into words how I feel about Zane. I’m ecstatic he’s back while still being somewhat sad because we’ve missed so much. I’m sure people are wondering what I’m doing, allowing him to spend so much time with me, and there isn’t a doubt in my mind everyone knows he’s spent every night since the kids’ party at my apartment. The thing is, now that I’ve had him in my space, I don’t want him to leave.
It's unhealthy, this obsession I have. It’s like my body and mind are battling for what’s right, wrong, and not meeting in the middle for compromise. My subconscious wins a lot of conflicts, mostly because memories are a shit thing when you’re trying to forget and move on. One touch from him can spark a barrage of emotion and flood my senses of times when we were together,but the ugly creeps in, and I see nothing but him leaving on the train and never returning. Those feelings I had for months after he left have never gone away. They’ve been buried.
There have been times when Zane is sitting next to me and we’re sharing a bowl of popcorn, I find that I want to take the porcelain murder weapon and crack it over his head for what he’s done. And then, I look at him, really look at him, and remember how earlier before we sat down, he pulled me into his arms and apologized. He tells me every day, multiple times a day, how sorry he is for messing everything up.