Page 10 of Christmas for Keeps

ABBY: Safe and warm like in his arms?

CONNOR: Forget it. Not happening because we’re history.

There was a pause before another message came through.

ABBY: He’s the one you were in love with, right? Still are in love with?

CONNOR: FFS, I am not!

ABBY: Come on. We’ve spent at least 1000 hours talking about him over the years.

CONNOR: Shut up. We haven’t.

ABBY: Ok but I hope he has a big warm bed.

I glanced at Zach’s bed again, and visions of all the things we used to do raced through my mind.

ABBY: Don’t do anything reckless, but follow your heart. You know I believe in fate, and this could be karmic design.

She wasn’t helping at all.

CONNOR: Ok fine. I wanted to let you know I’m safe. I’ll text again soon but don’t worry if I’m quiet for a few days. I should be a good guest and not get lost in my phone.

ABBY: I won’t. I remember how gorgeous he is from all those pics you’ve shown me, so have fun! I’ll be here when you come up for air.

I stuffed the phone into my pocket and spent a moment staring at the floor. Had I really talked to her about Zach that much? How could she know I still loved him when I couldn’t even admit it to myself? At least not in the last few years.

A disconcerting mixture of excitement and terror ripped through me, and it took a moment to regain my bearings. When my skin stopped tingling, I raised my head and looked into the mirror over Zach’s dresser.Whatever happens while I’m here, I must control myself. Doing something stupid would hurt us both, and we’ve had enough of that.

Straightening my shoulders, I went to find Zach. In a surprisingly well-equipped kitchen with quartz countertops and stainless-steel appliances, we made spaghetti bolognese and a big salad. Probably both dealing with unexpected emotions, we didn’t say much, but it was a surprisingly comfortable silence. Things changed while we ate, and we talked about old times.

“Do you remember that summer we spent hiking and camping out?” he asked.

“How could I forget? It was the best summer of my life.”

“We drove through here on our way to Quebec for a few days. Stopped for some coffee and a pastry.”

I racked my brain but couldn’t recall. “How do you remember that? I don’t—”

“I remember everything about it.” He sipped his wine and then smiled. “That summer was awesome. I was thrilled to be with you. So lucky.” He glanced away and sighed before meeting my eyes again. “How many national parks did we see?”

Memories warmed my heart—being in love, giddy that Zach loved me, happy to be free from school and seeing the world on our own. “Oh my God! Remember standing under Yosemite Falls?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “It was incredible. The water was rushing so fast you could feel the negative ions in the air. And how many pictures did we take of the Grand Canyon?”

“The giant sequoias? Teddy Roosevelt’s bighorn sheep?”

“Old Faithful?”

We went silent. Wide-eyed, we first snickered, then broke into full-throated laughter. I used to call Zach “Old Faithful” because he always had such a big load and shot it so hard.

The merriment took a moment to die down, and though our cheeks were red, it wasn’t from embarrassment. What we’d shared was too perfect to be embarrassed about.

If it was so perfect, why did it end?

The wine had relaxed us, and we reminisced about the things we used to do. While we loaded the dishwasher, I asked, “Why were you out there today?”

“I went to Montpelier to get some art supplies. A store down there orders them for me.”

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