Page 44 of Miss Humbug
I wanted to laugh him off. The Holly name was supposed to mean I was special, but it had often weighed me down like a burden.
“Hey, I mean it. You’re not your family. You’re you.”
Ethan looked at me fully, deeply, wholly. He saw me. He always had. As kids, he’d been my ally, and a bit of hired muscle when I needed it against my brothers. But in high school, something shifted. I doubted myself and questioned my identity. Cue the dark clothes and hanging with outcasts and shy wallflowers. Because despite feeling loved and included in my larger-than-life family, I began to believe there really was something wrong with me. That I was tainted. Scarred. An oddball who would forever be marked by my tragic beginnings. How could I ever outgrow the label other people placed on me?
To correct that, my only option was to leave them all behind.
I’d believed my own dark thoughts, the doubt, instead of the people who loved me. Instead of Ethan, who’d been a support even when I’d walked away.
He was here now. Taking time away from the job that needed him, during the busiest time of the year. And still, I clung to those dark thoughts and beliefs. Why?
“Why have you believed in me for so long?” I asked him. “Why, when I haven’t been the friend you needed?”
He paused before answering. “Because love isn’t conditional.”
A perfectly reasonable sentiment. One I had trouble digesting no matter how hard I tried.
Ethan appeared to freeze in place, as if startled by something. I turned. “What? What’s behind me?”
“No, it’s nothing.” He abruptly turned toward the gate. “We should probably get back. It’s cold out here.”
Chapter 16
Ethan
I’d declared my love for Marlowe Holly.ToMarlowe Holly.
Just said it. Right out loud.
She either hadn’t heard me or kept tight-lipped to spare my feelings. We walked to her car in silence. I had a good lead on her so she couldn’t see my face.
Love isn’t conditional.I couldn’t love Marlowe any less if I tried. The memories, there were so many of them, and they’d all rushed back the second she showed up at that bar.
“I’ll pick up the rest of the gingerbread materials,” Marlowe was saying as she opened the car door.
I couldn’t read her thoughts at all. Marlowe had a way of making up for showing any vulnerability by immediately locking down tight. The opposite of me, turned out.
“Are you okay, Ethan?”
Did you not hear me declare my love for you?
She looked at me, open. Blank. Guarded? Or clueless?
Maybe she hadn’t heard the wordloveat all. Maybe she’d assumed I’d repeated a familiar phrase. Did it only count if I’d saidI love you, in that order?
“I’ll text you about the next event,” I stammered. The competition. Safe territory. “See ya.”
I swore a hint of disappointment came through when I sent her off. Then again, Marlowe couldn’t stand the holidays and I’d just saddled her with shopping for more baking. Funny, given holidays and baking were exactly what brought us together again.
In the following days, Marlowe didn’t bring up my love declaration so I didn’t either. I was probably overreacting. Love being unconditional was a thing people said. Even to friends. A normal, not-meaning-anything-more-than-that kind of statement.
Meanwhile, renewed determination struck. I would change Marlowe’s outlook on the holidays. I planned to use my time intentionally to do it.
Having plenty of downtime each weekday, Marlowe offered to hang out with me at the tree farm during working hours. The day began cold, colder than it had been all month. Marlowe’s nose turned pink and she stomped her feet to keep warm.
“You can go inside the office and warm up.” I felt bad having her stand outside helping customers with trees, but she’d insisted.
“I’m good.” She smiled at me.
