Page 58 of My December Darling

You didn’t grow up watching cheesy holiday romance movies and it shows.

I tuck my phone into my pocket and finish getting ready for work. Today, I choose to spend a little more time on myappearance, going the extra mile to curl my hair, add some eyeliner, and swipe a bit of highlighter on the tops of my cheekbones. I even tear the tag off a new scrub set I bought for the season and throw it on.

Do I feel a little ridiculous for being this worked up over seeing Luke later? Yes, but oh well. If getting dolled up and wearing a new pair of scrubs makes me feel good about myself, then screw it. I don’t have much to lose.

Except your heart?

I push the thought away and exit my bedroom. My mom’s eyes brighten when they land on me, and she pauses the TV show she was watching to follow me into the kitchen.

“You look nice.”

“Thanks.” I open my lunchbox and start packing a few snacks.

“I like your new scrubs.”

“Oh. Thank you.” I self-consciously brush a hand down the front of the smooth material, ironing out a nonexistent wrinkle. My mother has never commented on my scrubs before, so I’m surprised she noticed a new set, let alone complimented it.

“You have a leftover piece of the plastic tag stuck in your hair.”

Before I have an opportunity to search for it, my mom walks over and plucks the incriminating piece of evidence from my curled strands.

“There.”

“Thanks.” My chest squeezes.

She gives my shoulder a squeeze before adjusting my hair so it falls down my back. “You look beautiful.”

“Because I decided to wear makeup today?” My eyes automatically roll. My mom is the type who encouraged us to never leave the house without makeup on and our hair done, so I’m not shocked at her approval.

“No.” She shakes her head, stunning me. “Because you lookhappy.”

My heart—that traitorous organ that can’t seem to pull itself together lately—aches from her statement. I feel a bit like an asshole for assuming the worst, which is something I clearly have to work on if I ever expect our relationship to improve.

She’s trying, so you should too.

Yet despite the mental reminder, I’m not sure how to respond to her but thankfully, I don’t have to as she pulls me into a hug, enveloping me in the scent of her floral perfume and the hint of cinnamon that clings to her clothes and hair duringcoquitoseason.

“I know things have been…hard for us, especially more recently.”That’s putting it lightly.“I’m sorry that I haven’t been the easiest to get along with. I’ve spent some time thinking about what we talked about the other day, and there is truly nothing that makes me happier than to seeyouhappy. If I ever made you believe otherwise, then I’m sorry, and I’ll work to be better.”

“Really?” I look at her while rapidly blinking my eyes as a precautionary measure against breaking into tears.

“Really.” My mom kisses my cheek before exiting the kitchen, leaving me to wonder if maybe there is hope for our relationship after all, so long as I learn to first let go of years’ worth of hurt.

Luke isn’t waiting for me in the break room after our shifts are over like we had planned, so I make him and myself a cup of coffee before I wait at the same table we sat at last time. Time goes by painfully slowly, and after ten minutes, I battle between texting him or not to check in. I don’t want to seem desperate orclingy, so I consider taking his absence as a sign of maybe him getting held up from an emergency case.

I have this gut feeling that Luke wouldn’t ditch me without letting me know, especially not after last night’s kiss and him asking me out on another date. So, I muster up some courage and text him to check in.

Me

Hey. Your coffee is getting cold.

I send a photo of the cup I made him five minutes after I arrived because I wanted to keep my mind busy.

More like you wanted to do something nice for him.I groan under my breath at the thought before I wait for a response that never comes. Eventually, my message goes from delivered to read, and I sit with my stomach in knots while I wait for a response that never comes.

After ten minutes of staring at my phone like it might combust, I dump out my half-finished coffee and Luke’s untouched one before heading to the parking garage.

During my drive home, my negative thoughts get the best of me, and I’m already assuming the worst about our situation. I had hoped Luke would answer me at some point before I parked in front of my parents’ house, but no text ever comes.

---