Page 9 of Christmas in Paradise

By the time Evie gets the thumbs up from Adam, I’m behind her. When she backs away from the mic, I’m so close, she steps on my toes.

Evie lets out a small gasp and turns around. “Seb! Sorry. I didn’t realize you were that close.”

“It’s okay. My fault.” I keep my eyes down, focused on my strings.

Evie starts to walk away but I hiss her name. “Wait! I need to ask you something.” She stops and I move closer, still strumming, the heavy beat the background music for my question. “When’s she coming back?”

Evie flinches with surprise. “Hope?”

I nod. I don’t dare look her in the eyes or she’ll see just how much I want to know.

“I mean, will she be here days before the wedding? Weeks? December first is coming fast.” I keep playing, nodding my head to the beat, hoping she’ll answer the question I’ve wondered about since Hope left without a word almost five months ago.

Evie pauses long enough that I have to look up. Her head tilts to the side. “I’m not sure yet, Seb.”

She opens her mouth like she might say more, then clamps it shut and walks away from me.

But I haven’t plugged in yet, so I follow her. Because letting out the easy question has opened the floodgates, and the harder questions follow. I’ve held them in too long.

I catch Evie at the edge of our makeshift stage that’s only steps away from the square tables that surround it.

“Will you at least tell me why she ghosted me? So I know what to apologize for when I see her again.” I congratulate myself on not sounding as desperate as I feel.

Evie blinks. “Where is this coming from, Seb? You haven’t said one word about her since she left.”

Ouch.

If I’d known Hope wasn’t going to answer any of my texts, I would have asked Evie the question a long time ago. But I waited too long, and there was never the right time to do it without sounding like the crushed idiot I am.

“That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about her,” I say quietly. “Will you tell me why she left?”

While I wait for her answer, I pluck out the first few chords of the White StripesSeven Nation Army.Playing not only gives me somewhere to direct my nervous energy, but also because there’s a line about Wichita. I know that’s where Hope is.

That’s about all I know. What twenty-two-year-old doesn’t haveanysocial media accounts?

Hope. That’s who.

And what twenty-two-year-old can ignore a week-long string of texts?

Probably a lot of them. But did Hope have to do it to me?

“Seb, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Evie says gently, and I still my fingers over the bass strings. “You’re a great guy. I mean that sincerely…Hope’s just not the right girl for you.” Evie squeezes my shoulder and gives me a pity smile. “When she’s here for the wedding, you can ask her why, but she’s got to be the one to tell you. Not me.”

“Quit harassing Evie,” Adam says from the kitchen, even though I’m sure he couldn’t hear me over the burgers sizzling on the open flame.

“I’m not harassing her.” I glance at Evie who raises her eyebrow.

“Okay.” I pick up the song where I left off. “But will you at least tell her I’d like to see her? Not to start things up again. Just to see her.”

Evie nods, and I walk back to the stage.

I’m not trying to be a creeper here, but I thought Hope and I really had a connection. Then she just disappeared. All I got was a text saying she’d had a fun time, but it was better if we didn’t stay in touch. I texted anyway. After a week of no response, I got the message.

For five months, I’ve respected her wishes, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten her.

If anything, I’ve thought about her more than if she’d just told me goodbye face-to-face.

Maybe…

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