Page 46 of Celebrating the Season

“You fucked up, son.”

He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know already. “I was wrong. So fucking wrong. I love him, Des. I can’t… I can’t breathe without him.”

Desmond shot me a piercing look. “You’re not gonna hurt him more?”

I shook my head vehemently. “No. I swear to god. I’m all in. Whatever it takes. Just…please. I need to tell him how I feel.”

Desmond studied me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. I held his gaze, willing him to see the sincerity, the desperation, the love I felt for Boaz.

Finally, he sighed. “Give me your number so I can text the address to you. But, Ellery? You better be sure about this. That kid deserves happiness.”

I nodded. “Thank you. I swear, I’ll make it right.”

“And you realize tomorrow’s New Year’s Eve, right? ’Cause you won’t make it to LA anymore today.”

Whatever. “I’m not starting the new year without him.”

“Good luck!” he called after me as I ran out of the building.

I hit the road right away, putting Boaz’s address in Google Maps. As I pulled onto the highway, the enormity of what I was doing hit me.

I was driving over a thousand miles on the slim hope Boaz would forgive me, would still want me. The rational part of my brain screamed that this was insane. But my heart? My heart knew it was the only choice.

I was going to find Boaz. I was going to tell him I loved him. And come hell or high water, I was going to bring him home.

The steering wheel felt like an extension of my body as I pushed through hour after grueling hour. My eyes burned, my back ached, but I couldn’t stop. Not when Boaz was waiting at the end of this endless ribbon of asphalt.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I thought about how Boaz’s eyes lit up when he laughed. The memory of his infectious giggle echoed in my mind, a stark contrast to the oppressive silence of the truck cab.

“Damn it, kid,” I muttered, rubbing my tired eyes. “What have you done to me?”

I pulled into a rest stop, stretching my legs and grabbing a much-needed coffee. As I leaned against the hood of my truck, I rehearsed what I’d say to Boaz.

“I’m sorry. I was an idiot. I love you.”

The words felt inadequate, but they were all I had.

Back on the road, the miles blurred togethertogether until I reached the point where I physically was unable to continue driving. I found a motel and crashed hard, sleeping like the dead. When I woke up, I felt surprisingly rested, and after a quick breakfast and filling up my thermos with fresh coffee, I hit the road again.

Traffic was packed for New Year’s Eve, and it took me a long time to finally reach the sprawling suburbs of LA. My heart raced as I navigated the unfamiliar streets, following the GPS directions to Boaz’s address.

It was almost eight in the evening when I pulled up to his apartment building. I sat in the truck, my hands gripping the wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. What if he slammed the door in my face? What if he wasn’t even home?

I forced myself out of the truck, my legs stiff from the long drive. Each step toward his door felt like I was walking through molasses. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Standing in front of his door, I hesitated. This was it. No turning back now. I raised my hand, took a deep breath, and rang the bell.

The door creaked open, and I gasped. Boaz stood there, a shadow of the vibrant man I’d known in Forestville. His usually bright brown eyes were dull and rimmed with dark circles, his skin pale and drawn. The curls I loved to run my fingers through hung limp and unwashed. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Ellery?” His voice was barely a whisper, cracking on my name.

The sight of him, so broken and vulnerable, shattered something inside me. My legs gave out, and I found myself on my knees, looking up at him. Tears I didn’t know I had left after the long drive spilled down my cheeks.

“Boaz, I’m so sorry,” I choked out, my usual stoicism crumbling. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. I thought I was doing the right thing, letting you go, but I was wrong. So goddamn wrong.”

My words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Every fucking minute of every day. I see you everywhere—in my memories, in my bed, in my cabin, in every piece of wood I carve. I love you, Boaz. Christ, I love you so much. I love your laugh, your energy, the way you light up a room. I love how you challenge me, how you make me feel alive.”

When I reached for his hand, I half expected him to pull away. When he didn’t, I pressed on, my voice thick with emotion. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m begging you. Please, give me another chance. Let me prove to you how much you mean to me. I’ll do anything, Boaz. Anything.”

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