Page 14 of Christmas With My Ex

I can't do this. I can't have just a casual hook-up with Nicholas. The truth is, I realize I never really got over him. Five years is a long time for the heart to still feel that pull to someone who broke it.

Going down this road would catapult me right back to where I was when we finally ended it. It took months to crawl out of that depression, years to feel like I could really move on.

"I should go," I say abruptly, setting down my barely-touched wine. "It's been a long day, and this swollen knee is angry with me for abusing it. It's time for me to really call it a night."

Nicholas looks surprised, maybe even a little hurt, but he nods. "Of course. Let me help you back to your room."

As I hobble to the door, I steal one last glance at him. God, why does he have to smell so goddamned good?

"No, I'm fine, really," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm in the safety of the hotel and only have a few feet to walk to the elevator, so no need to keep fussing. Stop making me feel like an old lady."

"I hear you," he replies, his tone laced with what seems like disappointment, but that could be from being all alone or missing out on a hookup. He can be as disappointed as he wants. I have to protect my heart.

As I make my way back to my room, I try to convince myself I made the right choice. But the ache in my chest tells a different story.

SIX

Nicholas

It's Christmas time / There's no need to be afraid.

The Auberge Residences at Element 52

398 South Davis Street

7:33pm

I’m sittingat the lobby bar, the last remnants of my whiskey swirling in the glass as I glance down at the menu. It’s quiet now, most of the patrons either tucked away in their rooms or heading off into the snow-covered streets.

I thought getting out of the room and getting a drink would help clear my head, give me some space to think, but all I can focus on is Rives.

Everywhere I look I see reminders of why I shouldn't have let her leave so abruptly. It was almost like she was testing me and I didn't rise to the occasion.

What a fucking idiot.

I can’t shake her from my mind. The way she looked at dinner, those bright blue eyes of hers, the way her long brown hair framed her face, falling in soft waves that were somehow even more beautiful than I remembered.

There’s something about her that just pulls me in. Always has. Even after all these years, after everything we’ve been through, it’s like there’s this gravitational force between us, and I can’t seem to fight it.

I stare at the drink in my hand, wondering why I can’t just let it go. I know better than this. We’ve been there, done that and it didn't work. Getting too close again would just open old wounds. She made it clear she didn’t want to go down that path after dinner, when she pulled herself away and left my room.

Or, did she want me to stop her? There was a look in her eyes that felt a little bit like a question when she said she needed to go.

I lean back in my chair, trying to distract myself, when I spot something on the menu. Crème brûlée. I almost laugh at the memory of Rives ordering it every chance she got when we were together. Her eyes would light up when she took that first bite, savoring the crispy caramelized sugar on top, like it was the best part of her meal.

Without thinking, I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts. I hesitate for a second. Does she still have the same number? There is a good chance this isn’t even her numberanymore. But before I can talk myself out of it, my fingers are already moving across the screen.

Hey. I saw crème brûlée on the menu and thought of you. Not sure if you’re still a fan, but if you want, I can bring some by. Thought you might like it as a little nightcap. I’m downstairs at the bar.

I stare at the message for a moment before hitting send, feeling stupid for even reaching out. She left for a reason. Why would she want me to bring her dessert? I’m just about to finish my drink and call it a night when my phone buzzes on the counter.

Well, twist my arm. I was settling in for a long winter's nap, but I can never deny a crème brûlée.

I blink, surprised. She... agreed?

I sit up straighter, a small smile escaping my lips as I read the message again to make sure I’m reading this correctly. The bartender passes by, and I wave him down, ordering two crème brûlées to-go. I know this could be presumptuous, to think she will want me to join her. In fairness, she said “I.” But I can’t help myself.

But I figure it can't hurt to try.

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