Page 4 of Christmas With My Ex

I’m an ER doctor, trained to deal with trauma, but knowing it was my nephew in that ambulance, knowing his mother, my sister, was gone... nothing prepares you for that. And that feeling I felt that day will never leave me, and moments like this unexpectedly bring it all roaring back as if it were yesterday.

Bobby’s been raising Sammy on his own ever since and he's a damn good dad. I’ve done my best to be there, to help where I can, to make sure Sammy knows who his mom was. I thank Godevery day that Sammy has such an amazing father, and I’m even more grateful he has stayed in Knoxville.

Bobby has been amazing at keeping all of us in Sammy’s life. And for that, I will always be eternally grateful.

I’m not ready to relive this. Not today. But here it is, staring me in the face like it does from time-to-time when I least expect it.

I should be relieved instead of conjuring up that awful outcome. We got her down without too much trouble. Now they can take over from here and I can put this whole unfortunate reunion behind me. This will not hijack my getaway holiday vacation.

It's not just the dredging up of painful memories that has me all twisted up right now. The tight knot in my chest the moment I realized who was lying there in the snow still remains.

Of all people. In all places. How did Rives Delaney end up here the same week I chose to get out of town? What are the odds?

I glance over as they start unstrapping her from the sled. She hasn’t seen me, hasn’t realized who was skiing beside her the whole way down. That’s fine by me. This whole thing was already awkward enough, no need to upset it more by letting her know her mortal enemy, her ex from hell, is part of her saving grace.

I could’ve told her. I could’ve pulled off my helmet, let her know it was me. But what would that have done? Made things worse? I doubt she’d be thrilled to see me again, especially not like this. The past is better left locked away and buried.

She’s in good hands now, and I’m free to walk away. Just like I did five years ago.

This was supposed to be a getaway, an escape from Knoxville and the fact that I’m not spending Christmas with Nicky, mysix-year-old son, for the first time since he was born. Not to be reminded of losing my sister and seeing the last person on earth I’d like to see.

Bev, Nicky’s mom, myotherex, decided to take him to Charleston this year with her new boyfriend's family. That left me all alone in a city that only further reminds me of my son, who I should be spending Christmas with.

Bev and I split only a week after Nicky was born. Since he was a baby, we’ve worked out sharing the holiday, each of us taking every other Christmas Day, but still both of us seeing him throughout. It was always fairly easy because we all stayed in Knoxville. We’d share the holiday in our own way, me taking Christmas Eve and Bev taking Christmas Day, or vice versa. It worked out.

This year, Bev wanted something different. She wanted to take Nicky down to Charleston, which meant he would be gone for a full week. It was her turn to have him for Christmas, so I couldn't really say anything.

I made the last minute decision to come out west to ski so I wouldn't mope around Knoxville missing him. This old mining town just got a whole lot smaller knowing Rives is in it.

It’s been almost five years since I last saw Rives. Five years since we said things we couldn’t take back, delivering the final blow, and went our separate ways. She tried to hang on, calling several times after we split, but I wasn’t going to drag out the inevitable. So, when we said our goodbyes, that was it for me. No looking back.

The breakup wasn’t pretty. Hell, it was ugly. We were fire and gasoline, burning brightly in the beginning. It was nine monthsof passion, excitement, adventure. But then reality hit, and it hit hard. That’s when the fire and gasoline turned destructive.

Nicky turned one that October and I realized I needed to be more grounded and present in his life. Juggling work as an ER doctor and being a single dad takes a lot of energy. If someone else isn't in that same frame of mind, it can be a drag. I get that.

Rives was fresh out of grad school when I met her, full of energy, chasing thrills and adventure as a young respiratory therapist at the hospital. It was cliché and fun, the doctor and the therapist flirting at the hospital and having wild sex wherever we could.

We were very compatible in that way: in the bedroom. If only our relationship could have survived on that alone.

As much as I wanted to do the spontaneous ski trips or last-minute cruise to Alaska, my life didn't really allow for that. Rives didn’t understand it. She couldn’t, really. She was in a completely different place in life—free, ambitious, always looking for the next rush. My life held her back.

I couldn’t keep up with her, and I couldn’t give her the kind of day-to-day life she wanted.

Rives was always ready for something new; I was stuck in survival mode, trying to juggle diapers and night shifts. I think, for a while, she tried to adapt. But it wore her down and I was tired of feeling like I didn’t give her enough.

We fought. A lot. Until one fight was one too many, and everything unraveled. She said she was done begging for more of me and I was tired of fighting.

I tried to explain, tried to make her see that my life wasn’t going to change anytime soon. But the truth was, I wasn’t what sheneeded, and she wasn’t what I could handle. We just weren’t compatible.

We ended things, but it wasn’t clean. It never is, is it? When she said she was done it might have been in the heat of passion, something she didn’t mean. But I said, “Bye,” and didn’t look back. I needed a clean break.

I grit my teeth, pushing the memories away as the rescue team lifts her onto the waiting ambulance to get her to the clinic. I hang back, keeping a low profile, feeling the tiniest bit of guilt watching from afar, knowing she is there but she has no idea I am.

As far as I know, anyway, she has no idea it’s me. If that is the case, that’s for the best. She’s got bigger problems right now—like the fact that her leg’s busted and whether she wants to or not, she might just have to slow down her bullet-train, adrenaline-fueled life after all.

I plan to pretend this didn’t happen, move on with my trip, and put her out of my mind. She will never have to know I was the other guy on the mountain who found her. I can go back to my vacation, and she can go back to hers. I'd very much like to get through this holiday without having to dredge up the past anymore than I already have today.

This is Telluride, though, and it’s a small town. Not even to mention it’s Christmas. People always end up crossing paths in places like this. The odds are not in my favor.

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