Page 122 of A World Without You
I realize this is the moment. This is when I tell him we’re done. The moment stretches, and I glance out the lodge’s room window to see a reindeer trotting down Main Street like the perfect Christmas town this is. The animal slows outside the window, and I stare down at him on the street. He glances up at me, and for a moment, the lunatic in me is certain it’s the same reindeer from the night I left Roslyn...five years from now. I don’t break eye contact through the frosted glass, and then suddenly, the animal winks at me, and his antlers fall off. I burst out laughing. The version of me on the bed twitches and looks in my direction sharply, and I wonder if she heard me, or maybe she just senses me.
I laugh again, realizing it’s me. I’m staring at myself in a dream as I wait for Colin, giving him an ultimatum.
If you don’t come, it’s over.
I know how life turns out if he does come, though, and even if it breaks Colin’s heart less, I know it breaks Bennett’s heart more.
“Tell him not to come,” I say to myself. I don’t think she hears me. I’m certain I’m more or less her intuition dancing around from shoulder to shoulder, putting ideas in her head.
She exhales a shuddering breath then says, “Don’t come, Colin.”
I don’t hear what Colin says on the other line because she hangs up and curls into her knees, sobbing like a child, alone at Christmas.
I sit next to her, remembering the abandonment. The disappointment. The loneliness on such a joyous holiday and how easy it was to fill the void with someone new. I don’t envy this break, and I certainly never want to feel it again.
In a few minutes, she’s going to dry her tears and put on a little mascara and head downstairs. She’s going to get her scarf stuck on the door, strangling herself, and Graham is going to show up like he always does. Then Colin is going to confirm he isn’t coming and she’s going to stay in Roslyn.
And then she’s going to say,“I don’t want it to go back to normal. I don’t want to go back to the city. I can’t breathe there. I’m suffocated by concrete towers and expectations. But the air is different here. Here, I’m free.”
But she won’t be free. She’ll just find herself sad and questioning her whole life.
Still, I whisper, “It will be a long time before you’re okay. But you will be. You’ll see.”
TWENTY-NINE
Christmas Morning
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OUR PARENTS ARE SLOWLY—READ: quickly and abashedly—realizing there’s something going on between Bennett and me.
We neither confirm nor deny because we’re adults and don’t need to run to mommy and daddy to let them know we fell in love at Christmas. But also, we just want this to be ours for a bit while we discover each other in this way and smooth out the kinks.
Shannon squealed at her copy ofChristmas With the Kranks,and Clint loved his Kraken sweatshirt. My parents both adored their gifts, and Josie ripped open the boxes for the dolls and camper I got her right away. Matty and Mason are immersed in their world of Duplo LEGO while Melanie tries on the necklace I got her, and her husband, Brian, throws on the Seahawks jersey I got him. I love the chaotic part of Christmas. The gifts. The torn wrapping paper. The endless boxes and random tape stuck to your pants.
Just as Bennett brings over the trash bag and whips it in the air to do his dadly duty of wrapping paper cleanup, I say, “I have one more for you, Bennett.”
