Page 32 of Christmas With My Ex

Slowly, she turns, and when I see her face, it feels like someone’s punched me in the gut. Her eyes are red, her jaw clenched, and I can tell she’s barely holding back the tears. The anger is there too—burning just beneath the surface.

“You lied to me,” she says, her voice shaky but sharp. “You sat there, pretending like you didn’t know. Like we were just reconnecting. But all along, you knew. You saw me fall, you saw everything, and you didn’t say a word.”

Well, to be clear, I didn't actually see her fall. But that's just semantics and she most likely wouldn't appreciate that distinction at this juncture.

I step closer, feeling the weight of her words hit me hard. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” I admit, my throat tight. “I didn’t want to make things worse. You were already in so much pain, and I worried if you knew it was me there it would make it worse for you. I thought you hated me and it would be best for me to just disappear.”

She cuts me off, her voice rising. “You thought if you said something, what? That I somehow would be worse off than I was?"

"Yeah, actually, that is exactly what I thought."

"So, then why did you even bother speaking at the bar later that day? Didn't you think I would be better off if you hadn't?"

"I'm not going to lie, I considered that. But when it looked like you were alone and having a pretty shitty day, both of us stranded here, I figured I would speak and see how it went."

"You've got all the answers, don't you? Did you feel like a fraud when you asked me how I hurt my leg? How will you explain that one?"

"It killed me. But at that point, I had to decide if I would blow up our possibility to make amends before it even had a chance, or if I would keep it to myself. I realize now I made the wrong choice and I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

"Did you think keeping up your ruse wouldn't matter? Because itdoesmatter, Nicholas. It matters that you lied. You made me feel like I could trust you, like we were starting over, and the whole time, you were hiding this.”

“I didn’t want to lie,” I say, my voice breaking. “I just... I didn’t want to mess this up. I didn’t want to lose whateverthis is between us. When I saw you, after my initial shock, I so desperately wanted to somehow smooth over how we left things.”

She shakes her head, her eyes flashing with anger. “Whatever this is? Do you even know whatthisis? Because right now, it feels like a game to you. Like you’re just filling your time with me because we are both stuck here.”

I reach out, but she pulls back, her crutches making an awkward, sharp sound against the floor. The distance between us feels insurmountable, and I don’t know how to fix this.

“It’s not a game,” I say quietly, the words coming out more desperate than I intended. “I care about you, Rives. I never stopped.”

She stares at me for a long moment, her chest rising and falling as she tries to control her emotions. But I can see the hurt in her eyes. I'm well aware that I've destroyed any trust we were starting to rebuild.

“I need some space,” she says, her voice raw. “I don't want to see your face.”

I nod, even though the thought of leaving her alone right now kills me. But I can’t push her. Not after this.

“Okay,” I say softly. “But I’m not giving up. I need you to know that.”

She doesn’t respond. She just turns and hobbles toward the elevator, leaving me standing in the middle of the lobby, watching as she disappears from view.

2:59pm

I sitdown in one of the oversized armchairs in the hotel lobby, my head spinning from everything that just happened. I feel like I’ve messed up more in the last hour than I have in years. Rives storming off, the look of hurt in her eyes, it’s hard to shake.

And like I told her, I'm not giving up again, this time like I did before. I will give her some time right now, but I will make sure she knows that this isn't a game. I have every intention of trying harder to convince her this time.

I pull out my phone, realizing I haven't talked to my son yet today. I scroll through my contacts until I land on Bev's name. It’s Christmas Eve, and if there’s one thing that might ground me right now, it’s hearing his voice.

The phone rings twice before his happy face pops on the screen and I hear the excited squeal on the other end. “Hi, Daddy!”

I can’t help but smile. “Hey, buddy! How’s my guy doing? I miss you so much.”

“So good!” Nicky’s voice is full of that boundless Christmas excitement only a six-year-old can have. “We’re at Billy’s mom's house, and they haveso manylights outside!"

Fucking Billy, Bev's douchebag boyfriend, who took my boy away for Christmas. I'll never like that guy.

"How fun. Do you love it there?"

"Yes! There’s a big snowman, and reindeer, and ahugeSanta on the roof!”

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