Page 46 of A Second Chance Christmas Kiss

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on?”

The sincerity in his tone made my eyes sting. “I don’t know.” My voice broke.

“Mel? I’m coming.”

“No. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“You’re sad because of something I said. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”

I hated that I was crying like this. “It’s not your fault.”

“It really is. It’s all my grandfather’s fault. I should’ve come home that Christmas. I should’ve been there for you.”

I hiccupped another sob. “I’m crying because of my ex-husband.” My thoughts raced. I didn’t want to get into all of this, but I couldn’t stop it. “You don’t want to hear this.”

“I want to hear anything that you want to tell me. I would listen to a horrible crime podcast if you wanted me to, and I hate crime podcasts.”

It was so ridiculous that I choked on a laugh. “What are you talking about?”

He snorted. “My ex loved crime podcasts, and everywhere we went, we would always have to listen to them. I will not even tolerate a second of that now. But if you wanted to listen to one, I would listen to it for you. Even though it reminds me of her, and I don’t like that crap.”

I laughed again. “I don’t like crime podcasts.”

“Good. I’m glad that you’re laughing a little. I hated that you were crying. Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Anything.”

“What?”

“Hmm…anything.”

“Last Christmas?”

“Sure.”

“Ah, no, you don’t want to hear that.”

“I want to hear anything you want to tell me.”

I hesitated. “I…my ex called recently and asked where the Christmas villages were.”

“Oh.”

I sighed. “It ticked me off because he never cared about Christmas or the villages or anything. That was all me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ugh. It’s fine.”

“What else?” he whispered. “Just tell me what’s bugging you.”

“Mom passed last November. We had her funeral and then I tried to get as much as I could sorted so I could be back to Colorado by Christmas. I wanted to be there so Will could come home and spend his Christmas break with us. I also wanted to put on a Christmas party at our home, just like I’d been doing for eighteen years for our neighborhood. I had a million Christmas villages, and there were all these traditional things that I would make, and I really loved the sense of community that I’d worked so hard to build. When my ex came home from work, I was in the middle of baking cookies for the party. He told me he wanted a divorce. Christmas Eve, he tells me he wants a divorce. He had divorce papers already drawn up.”

“I’m so sorry,” Charles said quietly.

---