Page 46 of Christmas for Keeps

I didn’t want to believe what Emory had told me. The person he’d described bore no resemblance to the Zach I knew—or rather, the Zach I had known. After four years of no contact, did I really know him anymore? I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but that damn Grindr profile lingered in my thoughts.

Abby was right. Emory could have made it himself.

Possibly, but that would require a level of cunning I doubted he had. Emory didn’t strike me as the sharpest knife in the drawer, and why would he have gone to all that trouble when he could have simply told me about Zach?

Struggling to my feet, I made my way to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. After taking care of business, I returned to bed and stared at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity. As much as I wanted to hide out, Abby was right about at least one thing—I had to go out there and talk to him.

Not yet. You’ll need energy to confront him, so rest for a while.

I dozed until he knocked on the door. It had gotten dark outside, and I glanced at the clock by the bed: 5:12 p.m.

“Con?”

I said nothing, hoping he’d think I was asleep and go away.

“Connor? Can I come in?”

“What?” My voice carried too much heat. Zach and I had meant so much to each other, and I didn’t want us to remember yelling at the end.

The door creaked open, and he stepped inside. “I’m worried. Are you sick, or is it something else?”

“How many times have I told you I don’t feel well?”

“That’s obvious, buthow? Are you sick, or are you angry with me?”

“No.” I didn’t want to go into it yet, but how could I lie when I was judging him for not being honest? “I mean, I don’t know. I’m hurt, Zach.”

“About what?” His voice was pinched. “Please tell me.” He came over and sat on the edge of the bed.

I hadn’t yet decided how to talk to him about it, so I said, “I’m not—”

“Please talk to me,” Zach pleaded, his voice trembling. “Whatever’s wrong, we can fix it. We love each other.”

“Do we? Really?” My voice quivered too, and I searched Zach’s eyes for the truth.

His jaw dropped, and he seemed to be fighting to maintain his composure. “You know we do.”

I turned my head toward the window, the darkness outside mirroring the uncertainty within me. When I faced Zach again, his expression was a mask of frustration and sadness.

“Please don’t do this, Connor,” he whispered. “Don’t shut down on me again.”

I sighed, sagging under the weight of our complicated history. Our relationship had been an emotional rollercoaster, and it had to end for our own well-being. But this time, I needed to do it right. I had to set us both free and allow us to move on. My stomach knotted. “Would you please give me a little more time? Then I’ll come out and we can talk, I promise.”

He held my gaze for a long moment. “Okay. See you out there.”

I took some deep breaths and mentally replayed my conversation with Abby. She could be right, which meant I shouldn’t make a decision before listening to Zach. Hopefully, he’d be able to clear everything up, but what if he didn’t? What if he really had lied to me? I’d need to decide if it was worth saying goodbye, and I couldn’t make that call until I heard what he had to say.

After changing into flannel pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt, I went looking for him. Soft holiday music played from the speakers he’d placed around the house, and I found him kneeling in front of the fireplace, building a fire. He must not have heard me come in because he jerked when I called his name. Jumping up, he tried to smile, but it didn’t work. His lips hardly moved, and a muscle twitched under his eye. “I thought it would be nice to have a fire for our talk.”

Sweet, beautiful Zach. Could I really tell him goodbye? We’d both be heartsick. As tempted as I was to say it was all his fault, we wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t been so ready to jump back in with both feet. “That’s nice. Thank you.”

Maybe you could forget it? Trust that he loves you and let him have his lie.

But what kind of relationship would we have? I’d never be able to trust him. That would keep us from building a good life.

He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll get us something to drink. What would you like? I had a beer, and I think I’ll have another.”

Don’t drink. Keep a clear head so you don’t lose it.

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