Page 47 of Stay this Christmas
I’d heard about it second-hand. Sam had already left for goodness-knew-where, and we hadn’t spoken in months, but hearing about Teresa and Christopher Donnelly’s divorce had still come as a shock. I hadn’t been all that close with Christopher, but Teresa had been almost like a second mother to me for all the time I’d spent at their house next door.
“Do you remember our Christmas that year?”
His question made me think of the Sasquatch Santa snow globe, and everything that had come after, but I knew he wasn’t referring to us right then.
“We did every last Christmas event they could find. The tree lighting ceremony, wagon rides downtown, they even took us to tell Santa what we wanted in our stockings.” He gestured at the quilted red stockings I’d hung over my fireplace. “We baked cookies, and watched movies together. Cut down our own tree and strung it with homemade ornaments.”
He shook his head, staring at his hands. “Georgia and I knew it was over the top, but we got into it anyway. They said they were doing it for me, one last big family Christmas before I went off to college and everything shifted in the family.
“Only later, we found out they’d started divorce proceedings that November. Dad’s…well, Ava was already pregnant with Finn, and Mom knew it. They’d known all along our big, happy family Christmas was a lie, and they’d fed it to us anyway.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, sending blond curls askew. “I haven’t felt the same about it since. Everything about it reminds me it’s all fake.”
I scooted closer to him, just enough to reach him, and took his hand in mine, needing to offer a little comfort. That small contact seemed to crack open a door to an old, familiar place I wanted to sink back into. “I’m sorry they handled things that way.”
“I’m sure they thought they were doing something good, giving us a few last months as a family. But I couldn’t get past all the lies.”
“I had no idea.”
He ran his thumb over my fingers, sending shivery echoes up my arm.
“Nobody did. Mom wanted to keep things quiet until it was all over. Dad, on the other hand, didn’t care what people thought. He married Ava as soon as the divorce from Mom was final, and Finn came along a few months after that. He went on business as usual, but me, Mom, and Georgia had to figure out how to move forward.”
“When did you find out?”
He exhaled bitter laughter. “They told us after graduation. Like, immediately after. We came home, I peeled off my gown, and they told us.”
My heart ached as though a cold blade had sunk into it. “Wasthatwhy you called me that night?”
He met my eyes, softness and maybe a little lingering hurt reflected there. “I didn’t have anyone else to turn to.”
Guilt and regret poured on top of me like cement until I felt about one inch tall. He’d called me because he’d truly needed me, and I’d turned around and ignored him.
Late in the summer, I’d heard bits of gossip about Christopher Donnelly and his new wife, and how their baby had come along right after their wedding. In my bitterness, I’d focused on the fact that Sam’s dad had cheated, but I’d never stopped to think just what that would have meant for Sam. My parents still made moony faces at each other over family dinner every week—I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have that torn apart.
I’d resented Sam a long time for how selfish he’d been in our break-up, but I’d been selfish, too. I’d chosen to hold a grudge over our old friendship, and left him on his own during an emotionally devastating time. The anger I’d clung to for so long didn’t seem so righteous anymore.
“Sam, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I wish I’d understood, I—”
I would have picked up, at least. Would have accepted his anguishedI need youas sincerity instead of a ploy. I would have stood by him.
He squeezed my hand tight in his. “I didn’t tell you this to make you feel bad. I had no right to expect you to comfort me after the way I’d behaved.”
“But you needed me, and I wasn’t there for you.”
His thumb traced a line along my knuckles. “Did you ever need me when I wasn’t there for you?”
I sagged against him, my shoulder resting on his. I’d needed him a lot, especially that first year. Nothing so major as a parents’ divorce, but I’d missed him. Wanted to talk to him. Wantedhim. “I guess I did.”
“We were seventeen, Harps. We both screwed up, me way more than you.”
I still didn’t like the picture of me this painted, knowing now how much he’d been hurting. Knowing I could have offered him even a small amount of comfort if I hadn’t been so afraid of losing ground with him.
“Is that why you left town that week?” I asked softly.
He nodded. “I didn’t want to be anywhere near my dad for a while.”
“I still wish I’d known. I wish I could have—” I wasn’t even sure what I would have done, but just now,anythingsounded better thannothing.
