by Maisey Yates
So tonight, the big triumph, the party, didn’t seem like her goal, it seemed like an end. An end she was not looking forward to.
She had to pack up the party that Ryan had thrown for her. It’d made her heart ache, but she couldn’t throw a Christmas party with a giant happy birthday banner set up in the middle of one of her garlands.
Everything looked perfect, even though the subtle, beautiful decorations she now had in her living room looked pale in comparison to how Ryan had decorated for their private party. The tree, the centerpieces, the small village on the mantel. All of the guests would be arriving soon, and Ryan had gone to the airport to pick up Margie and Dan. Elizabeth would be back in town a little bit later. Everything was going according to plan, except Holly just wanted to crawl underneath the table with a cheese log and eat the entire thing herself.
She was in mourning. Like, suffered-a-death mourning. Like she’d lost the love of her life. Not just sex. But no, she couldn’t love him. It wasn’t possible, and it made no sense. More, loving him could come to nothing.
Because it could all get yanked away. And she would be left blindsided when it did.
She heard a knock on her front door and her stomach tightened. She wondered if it was Ryan. And the Traverses. She was excited to see them. Except she didn’t feel so right now. Because their arrival was all wrapped up in the whole end-of-their-time-together thing. She smoothed her red satin skirt and walked to the front door, flinging it open, trying to force a smile when she saw her pretty, dark-haired friend Elizabeth standing there beaming at her.
“Merry Christmas!” Elizabeth handed her a gift and walked in, looking around at all of the decorations with a look of wonder on her face. “This is amazing! Really, you’ve outdone yourself. You made all of Mom’s old decorations not look quite so 1983.”
“You’re early. And I like your mom’s decorations,” Holly said.
“I know you do.”
“Where’s Todd?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Probably manscaping something.”
“Did you not have a good time skiing?”
“Oh, I had a good time skiing. But dealing with Mr. High Maintenance was a little bit less enjoyable than I anticipated.”
“Oh. Is the honeymoon over?”
“Thankfully, we haven’t been on a literal honeymoon, so I don’t have to continue to put up with it.”
Holly winced. “Did you two break up?”
“Let’s just say I spent more time with my ski instructor than I spent with him. And yes, we did.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“I’m not. You know, it starts with a guy paying all kinds of attention to you, but then all of a sudden they would rather just look in the mirror at their own reflection. Or, if not that specifically, at anything else but you just because they’re tired of you,” Elizabeth said, a bitter tinge in her voice. “Although Levi didn’t seem to be bored with me. But then again, I was new.”
“So... You think men just get bored?”
“I mean, it isn’t like I wasn’t bored. In fairness to the douchebag.”
Holly’s stomach sank. It was a good thing she and Ryan were finishing up, she supposed. Because it wouldn’t take long for him to get tired of her otherwise. That was how things worked for her. Her parents had imagined she might fix their marriage, and all she’d done was add to their problems. And so what had started as a blessing, a miracle, had turned into a burden.
She would be that for him, too. She knew she would.
She cleared her throat. “It sounds like you need booze.”
“I just might.”
She walked into the kitchen and got a bottle of wine, pouring a generous helping for her friend.
“God bless you,” Elizabeth said, raising her glass and taking a large gulp.
There was a knock at the door again, and after that, it didn’t stop. Guests began to pour in, but still no Ryan and Margie and Dan.
Holly was starting to worry, even though she knew it was ridiculous.
Finally, the door opened, and there they were. But more important, there he was, the porch light behind him illuminating his masculine silhouette, the mist hanging low in the trees only adding to the drama of the moment. She could only see him. She only wanted to see him.
She was in so much trouble. How had she ever thought she was going to protect herself from this?
“Elizabeth!” Dan stepped in and tugged his daughter into a hug. “Holly,” he said, smiling and hugging her too. Margie was greeting Elizabeth, then moved on to Holly. Holly almost cried when the older woman pulled her into a soft, gentle hug, the familiar smell of her perfume easing some of the ache in her chest. She’d last seen Margie a couple of months ago, compared to the days it had been since she’d seen her mother. And Margie didn’t stare at her blankly.
“It’s good to see you,” Holly said, her throat too tight for many more words to escape.
“You too, honey,” Margie said.
Holly stepped away, her eyes clashing with Ryan’s. She tried to force a smile, one that he didn’t return. A strange look was in his eyes, something thoughtful and deep, and it scared her.
She didn’t want him to look at her that way. Because it would only fade. That was the one thing she wouldn’t be able to stand. Not if he kept his word and ended things. But if she believed that it could be something more, if she allowed herself to love him—and not only that, but expect him to love her in return—she would be irrevocably broken.
Fortunately, the party kept her busy, and she wandered around the room making small talk with as many guests as she could. She made small talk with Sheriff Eli Garrett and his wife Sadie, who were expecting their first child in the spring, and with the sheriff’s older brother Connor, his wife Liss, and their adorable baby. Along with Jake and Cassie, and Lydia Carpenter, the president of the Chamber of Commerce and frequent user of Holly’s services. Half the town seemed to cycle in and out over the course of the evening, but as distracting as it was, as fun as it was, Holly’s focus remained on Ryan and the sinking feeling in her stomach.
As the evening wound down, Ryan met her eyes across the room, moving toward her with intent. It was then that she realized she’d been avoiding him. It hadn’t been conscious, but she’d definitely been doing it. He closed the distance between them, and was clearly about to say something when Dan and Margie unintentionally interrupted.
“Thank you so much for this party,” Dan said. “It was so thoughtful of you, Holly. There are definitely some things we miss about Copper Ridge, and this is one of them.”
“Yes,” Margie said. “It’s been so nice to see everyone tonight. It really is the best Christmas present we could’ve gotten.”
“Holly worked very hard on this,” Ryan said, his eyes intent on her.
“I can see that,” Dan said, assessing Ryan. Holly felt like Dan saw a little bit too much.
Holly cleared her throat, tapping her glass with the side of her fork. It was tempting to get distracted, to let all the stuff she was feeling for Ryan eclipse the purpose of the party. But she wasn’t going to let it.
“I just wanted to say a few words,” she said when everyone quieted down. “Dan, Margie, I wanted to do this for you because...well, it’s for everything you’ve ever done for me. I don’t know if a Christmas party is a big enough thank-you—no, I know it isn’t—but it’s a start. You gave me more happiness than I ever had before. You continue to give me support and love.” Her words made her eyes feel scratchy as she realized how true they were. Dan and Margie loved her. They’d never betrayed her.
Because they were exceptional, not because she was. Those thoughts hammered against her temples, made her head ache.
She swallowed hard, pressing on. “And I love you, too. And thank you.” She finished
up as quickly as possible, before her emotions could get the best of her.
Dan and Margie pulled her in for hugs, and Holly extricated herself before she dissolved completely.
It wasn’t long before they were co-opted by Elizabeth and a couple of other guests, leaving Holly with Ryan.
“Are you happy with how everything turned out?” Ryan asked.
“Yes,” she said, surveying the room and the smiling faces of all her friends. Of Margie and Dan.
“You should be. It’s great.”
She lifted her shoulder. “It is kind of what I do.”
“I know. But I think you outdid yourself.”
She tried to force a smile, tried to suppress the giddy warmth that was doing its best to spread through her and turn her into a quivering mass of longing. “Well, it isn’t a combination Christmas-birthday-Hanukkah-Valentine party, but it’s pretty cool.”
“It’s more than that. Margie said something interesting to me at the airport. She said that she’s helped a lot of kids, but it doesn’t go only one way. A person has to accept help. A lot of people can’t, or don’t.”
“I’m not sure that a drowning person deserves credit for accepting a hand up,” she said.
“You do. We do.”
“You’re being awfully introspective.”
He leveled his gaze with hers, his dark eyes serious. “I am. In fact, I kind of want to talk to you.”
Her stomach sank. This was it. He’d come to the same conclusion she had. Regardless of their original agreement, she knew it was over after tonight. It had to be, for her sanity if for no other reason. This was going to be goodbye. Whether it was marked by one last time together or a clean break, it was still goodbye. It’s better that it’s now. You know it is.
She took a deep breath and nodded.
She could tell him to wait until the party was over. But it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t make a difference. In fact, tearing the Band-Aid off might be for the best. Since they would have to act normally around each other and everyone else, they might as well start now.
“Will you come outside with me?” he asked.
“We can’t talk in here?”
“No.” He shook his head. “We can’t.”
She was afraid of that. “Okay.” She moved through the living area, going to the back door, pausing to get her knitted hat and mittens and putting them on slowly, in no hurry to be alone with him. Stupid. She was being stupid.
Holly swallowed hard, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. She was parched suddenly, nerves stealing all of the moisture from her body. She opened the door, and he followed her outside. She wrapped her arms around herself, walking to the middle of the yard, turning and looking back at her house, lit with white lights, looking every inch a holiday fantasy. And there was Ryan, in front of it all. Looking like he belonged. Which was unfair in such a major way.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“Let’s go over here,” he said, gesturing toward the small gazebo wreathed in lights at the back of the yard.
Tears stung the backs of her eyes and her heart pounded as she followed him across the grass, the frozen blades crunching beneath their feet.
He stepped into the gazebo, extending his hand. She accepted it, allowing him to help her up the steps and beneath the covered structure. It was so beautiful. Like a fantasy of some kind. They should dance next, or something. It should end with a kiss.
It wasn’t going to end that way. She knew it.
Rejection was the only end. The only end for someone like her.
“Holly, I’ve been thinking.”
“Don’t,” she said, holding up her hand. “You don’t have to justify any of this. We set out the parameters of everything from the beginning. No apologies necessary. No need to look regretful.”
He raised his dark eyebrows. “Do I look regretful? Because I guarantee you I don’t feel it.”
“Oh,” she said, her stomach sinking.
“I also think you don’t know what I’m about to say.”
“Of course I do.”
“No. Holly, when I picked up Dan and Margie at the airport today I realized something. There’s a lot of life that I’m not living. A lot of things I’ve cut myself off from. Because of my dad. Because I never wanted to depend on anyone. I never wanted anyone depending on me. Not considering where I’d come from. I figured, I would work hard, redeem myself by building a life with some intangible.”
He took a deep breath, then continued. “My dad was nothing more than a worthless bully. He didn’t ever hold down a job, he never built anything. All he ever did was tear things down. I was so focused on being different than that, on finding my own way, and doing something. Anything. I missed a lot of things. I saw Dan and Margie standing there, looking as in love as they ever have, and I realized that in thirty years I don’t want to just be fishing. I don’t want to be alone. I want to build something bigger. Something that lasts.”
He moved closer to her, his expression hidden from her in the dim light. But she could sense the intensity in his eyes, even if she couldn’t see it. “I don’t love Margie and Dan because they own the Farm and Garden. I love them because of who they are. Because they love each other. Because they loved us. There’s only so much you can get out there and build with your hands, Holly. The rest I think you have to open yourself up to. You have to build it with your heart, and that’s the hard part.”
Holly felt lightheaded, breathless. “Did you... Did you spike the cider? Because it sounds an awful lot like you’re talking about feelings.”
“I am. And I’m sober. I guess it’s a Christmas miracle.”
“What exactly are you saying?”
“I want more. I want more, with you. I don’t want us to be over. I don’t want this to be over.”
The twisting, intense mass of pressure in her chest burst, shattering into anxiety that burrowed beneath her skin, curled itself around her veins. “What? You’re saying you want... You want some kind of copycat version of what Margie and Dan have?”
“Not exactly. But I think they prove it’s possible.”
“For them. But I’m not... I’m just me. When you get tired of it? When you realize that I can’t just fix your issues, or the hole inside of you. Will you just get rid of me?”
“I’ll never get tired of you. Of us. And I don’t expect you to fix anything. I love you, Holly.”
She felt like the ground had dropped out from underneath her feet. Like she was hanging from a ledge, with Ryan standing there holding out his hand. Except nothing inside of her could bring herself to take it. Because as wonderful as it looked, as much as it appeared like it could be salvation, there was a part of her that was afraid if she reached for him, he would only drop her.
It’s Ryan. He won’t drop you.
But she couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t. If her own mother had dropped her, why wouldn’t he?
Yes, she was dangling from a metaphorical ledge, but she knew she wouldn’t let herself go. That was the only thing she could trust. Survival. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was sure.
“You can’t,” she said.
“What do you mean I can’t? I do. I’ve lived my entire life knowing exactly what love wasn’t. I went to Dan and Margie’s, and I saw it for the first time. It’s not something you can mistake. Don’t tell me I can’t. Don’t tell me I don’t know,” he said.
“How can you? You’re just as broken as I am.” The words came fast, sharp. He drew back as though she’d attacked him physically. She might as well have. It probably would have hurt less. It probably would have hurt them both less. But she couldn’t stop, not now. “Ryan, we could never make it work. Not you and me. If you were ever going to... And I know that you can... Then it would be with someone who isn’t so dam
aged inside.”
“You’re not damaged. Your mom is. Your dad is. You aren’t. They made you feel that way, because when you’re surrounded by messed up people, you must look strange by comparison. I know what that’s like. I didn’t understand that not all fathers use their fists on their children. But that didn’t make my dad normal. It just meant I didn’t know better.”
“Now it’s your turn to tell me that I don’t know better?” she asked.
“You don’t,” he said. “You must not. Not if you don’t know that you’re lovable. Not if you don’t know that you’re worth something.”
“I know that I am. Stop making it sound like I’m some emo teenager crying about imagined problems. My mother abandoned me. That’s how I see this ending for me. And if I was ever going to believe it could be different, if I was ever going to believe someone might love me forever, I wouldn’t believe it could come from someone who grew up the way that you did.”
She wanted to cut her own tongue out as the words left her mouth. Hated herself for them, a thousand times over. But she wouldn’t take them back. Not now. Not when she needed them to protect her.
“I know what it feels like to be a punching bag for somebody who isn’t happy with themselves,” he said, his tone harsh. “That’s all this is. It’s not about me, Holly. It’s about you. I’ve experienced this too many times to doubt that.”
She took a deep breath. “Maybe you should worry about your ego instead of mine,” she said. “I don’t love you. I told you what this was.”
“You don’t love me, Holly? I think you do. I think you have for a long time. I think I’ve loved you almost as long. What I also think is that we spent a lot of years being afraid. Because we knew if we ever touched each other, we would be lost. It would be all in. And it is. It is for me. I almost kissed you when you were eighteen, and I told myself I shouldn’t because you were too young. Because I was no good. But that wasn’t the reason. That was never the reason. It’s because I knew that if I kissed you, I would love you. Forever. I would want to marry you, and stay with you all my days. I would want you to have my babies. Live with me. Be my wife. And I do. It’s what I want. You want it too.”