Page 72 of The Christmas Cookie Crush

“We’ve been wanting to go for a drive to look at all the Christmas decorations around town. Haven’t we, dear?” she adds to Grampy.

He nods like this was part of their plan today all along and not the first I’m hearing about it.

“What? Since when?” I demand.

Nana gives me a look like I’m being silly. “We do this every year, sweetheart.”

“Really? You didn’t say anything before now. Just wait a minute. Nora and I can talk real quick—I’m sure it won’t take long”—mostly because I don’t really have anything to say and I can’t think what she might have that wasn’t covered already—“and then we can go together.”

Her coat already on, she wraps a scarf around her neck while Grampy sits on his walker and puts his boots on. Then they trade places, and she puts her boots on while he dons his coat and hat.

“Take all the time you need,” Grampy says. “I’m sure it’ll take us a while to make our way through the whole town.”

“What about dinner?” I ask as a last-ditch protest.

“The ham still has nearly an hour left. But if the timer goes off before we get back, be sure to take it out. Leave the lid on the roasting pan, and it’ll be fine.” With that, they wave and get out the door with surprising speed, leaving me alone with Nora.

She clears her throat, and I turn my dumbfounded gaze from the front door to her. “What is going on?” I ask, completely bewildered.

She cracks an awkward smile, tucking her hair behind her ears. “With them? It seems like they wanted to give us time to talk privately. It’s sweet, really.”

Crossing my arms, I turn to face her fully. “You think so?”

She shrugs, tugging the sleeves of her sweater out from her coat sleeves to cover her hands. “Can we talk, though?”

“About what?” I scoff. “Pretty sure you made your position clear the other night. You don’t want any ties to Arcadian Falls. And you know? You’re probably right. If you’re dead set against coming back here, it’s probably better to end things now.” The last words come out choked, the reality of never touching Nora again hitting me like a gut punch once more. I’ll probably see her again—she’ll come back to visit, I’m sure—but imagining her bringing some other guy home to meet her family feels like I’m being scoured with steel wool and then run through the industrial dishwasher at the bakery.

“I’m not,” she says, her voice so quiet I almost can’t hear it over the ringing in my ears.

“What?”

She clears her throat. “I’m not dead set against coming back to Arcadian Falls.” She meets my eyes, squaring her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Austin. I got scared. Dylan got in my head?—”

“What?” I interrupt. “What do you mean? How did he get in your head?”

Sighing, she tugs her sleeves down over her hands again, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “He, um, well …” She sniffs, like saying this is hard for her. “He basically told me all the ways I’d mess up your life.” A tear tracks down her cheek, and she uses the cuff of her sleeve to wipe it away. “That I can’t sustain a relationship, that I’m unreliable and silly, that I’d be doing you a favor by cutting you loose.”

The ball of anger in my gut lurches sideways. “He what?”

She shrugs and sniffs. “He told me how hard long-distance relationships are, that the only way they work is if they’re temporary, and that since I didn’t know what I was doing next but had always planned on moving away from here and you were definitely staying, I should just let you go now. That it would be kinder for both of us.”

The words echo my earlier thoughts, and I cross my arms, needing to stop myself from reaching for her. Watching her cry still guts me, and I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms, comfort her, and tell her everything will be okay.

But I don’t think it will be okay. Not for us, anyway.

“Why are you telling me this, Nora?” I’m proud of how even the question comes out.

Sniffing, she wipes her face again. “Because I realized something.”

I arch an eyebrow, waiting.

She shakes her head. “He’s wrong,” she whispers.

I could’ve told her that, at least some of it. “About what?”

Her hands go up and flop back down. “Everything. All of it.” She sniffs again, then reaches for the tissues sitting on the coffee table, grabbing one and turning away from me to blow her nose. “Sorry,” she murmurs when she’s done. “Sorry.” Closing her eyes, she squares her shoulders and inhales deeply before opening her eyes and meeting mine again. “He’s wrong about me. Maybe I was irresponsible and unreliable when I was a teenager, but I’m not anymore. I work hard at school, I get good grades, and I’m graduating early even after taking longer than normal to declare a major.” Her voice gets more vehement asshe lists her accomplishments, and I can’t help the tiny smile tugging at my lips. “I did a kick-ass job as Lead Elf this year. Both my mom and Sarah have told me so, and they’d know better than anyone. Maybe I don’t have the best track record with guys, but I think it’s positive that I ended bad relationships rather than staying with them out of some weird sense of obligation to have something last longer.” Her eyes soften, the fierceness of the last few seconds draining away. “And I think you and I could have something that lasts longer. If you’re still interested.”

I chew on that for a moment, considering. “What about the rest?” I ask, my voice gravel, the words forced through the lump that took up residence in my throat the second she arrived. “You still don’t want to come back here. Or at least you don’t want me to be the reason you come back here.”

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