Page 79 of The Holiday Grump
At least that was true.
“I don’t care if he shows up! I’m not scared of him. You’ve built this guy into some demigod and live your life around avoiding him. That’s never going to work. You need to confront him. Get it over with. We can drive there right now!”
He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and looked at me expectantly, like he’d suggested a fun road trip.
“What?” My heart thumped so hard that I felt dizzy.
He was right, yet I knew with deep certainty that I couldn’t do it. Not yet. I hadn’t just humiliated Spencer. I’d humiliated my own family. Everyone.
If I went back…
“I can’t, Fredrik. I’m sorry,” I finally said, hugging my legs so tightly it hurt.
He groaned, sagging back onto the couch, fingers rubbing his forehead. “Okay. Okay.”
We sat there for a moment, catching our breath and trying to see a way forward.
Finally, he stood. “Get your coat. I’ll drive you back to the store.”
“You’re kicking me out?” Tears ran down my cheeks.
I’d lost him. I hadn’t been brave enough. And now the perfect day was over.
“I can’t get involved with someone who’s not available. I’m not looking for a hookup. If I was, I’d go to Bangor with Jackson or something. I can’t…” I saw the pain in his eyes.
I forced myself up from the couch. “Thank you for rescuing me. Thank you for the sauna. For playing house. I’ll never forget you.”
Then I gathered my things and followed him to the door, my legs shaking so much I could barely walk.
CHAPTER 26
Noelle
We drove in silence, with the heater blasting. Despite the heat, every muscle in my body was rigid, my fingers curled into tight fists, fighting the pain flooding through me. I desperately wanted to go back in time. I wanted to find a way through that conversation that produced a different outcome. One where we stayed together.
What should I have said?
I knew he wanted to be with me. He didn’t want this to be over. But he was right. I wasn’t over Spencer. I was carrying wounds that stood between us, making it impossible to give him the reassurance and commitment he needed. And maybe he needed more of it because of his past. His wife had chosen someone else and somewhere else. That had to hurt. It must have eroded his confidence.We each had our own scratches and distortions, like those old VHS tapes.
When he parked outside the bookstore, I halted, turning to look at him. “Come inside. I want to show you something.”
“What?”
“Please?”
I expected him to refuse, but he killed the engine and followed me to the door. Cold wind whipped us with snowflakes that melted on my neck, mixing with the cold sweat I was already producing. I didn’t want this to end. I didn’t want to lose the connection between us. But I couldn’t promise him something I wasn’t sure about. I’d already broken a promise, and it still haunted me.
Was there any way around this?
Despite having no plan, I took his hand and pulled him into the store, all the way to the armchairs. I was desperate, improvising.
“You put everything back the way it was,” he noted, browsing the store. “Except for the doorbell.”
“I’ll do that, too. I just need to get Jackson?—”
“Don’t. I like the new one.” His eyes softened, and it gave me hope.
I took a step closer. “If you’re sure?”
