Page 8 of The Nutcracker

“Jordy, don’t get me wrong. I’m flattered, really I am. And moving in with you could be sweet… some day…”

“What do you mean, ‘could be’? I thought you’d love to move in with me.”

“I would. I will. Someday. Just not right now. I mean work is hectic and some nights I get home so late and hell, I snore—”

“I know you snore. You’re adorable when you snore.”

“No, I’m not. I’m annoying. If I move in with you I’ll be snoring every night and before you know it I’ll be sleeping on the couch and you’ll be wishing you never gave me this key in the first place.” He closed the lid on the box and slid it back across the table to me. “Let’s give things a little more time, huh?”

“Liam, we’ve been going out for two years. How much more time do you want?”

He sighed. “A little. Say, how about I buy you that whisky?”

He bought me a drink and a double for himself.

He drained his glass within seconds then checked his watch. “Oh shit. Babe, I’m sorry. I’ve got a killer deadline tonight, if I don’t get back to the office now I’ll never hit the brief on time. Can we take a raincheck on the rest of tonight?”

My heart had been filled with joy when I entered the bar. Now I could feel it cracking like ice. I glanced out the window. The snow had turned from light and fluffy into the sludgy kind. “Sure. It looks like the weather’s turning out there anyway.”

I slid the box containing the key back into my pocket.

We left the bar and he pecked me on the cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket as if it might prove the point.

With that he turned and made his way hurriedly down the snowy street.

I could tell from the slouch of his shoulders, from his distracted step on the gathering snow, that he was already texting on his phone.

I assumed it was work.

In my pocket, my own phone dinged with an incoming message.

I pulled it out and saw the caller ID.

It was Liam.

My heart swelled with hope once more.

Was he sending me an apology for having to race away?

A reminder that he loved me?

I opened the message.

Hey babe, so sorry, got stuck in a bar with some random guy I used to know. Totally awks. On my way now. Get me a whisky, I need one. xx

I took in a breath so sharp it felt like the cold air pierced right through my chest.

I looked back up to the end of the block and saw Liam standing on the far corner, expectantly looking at his phone.

I texted back:

Hey babe, I don’t think this was meant for me.

Liam promptly looked up from his phone and looked back in my direction.

He spotted me through the snow then quickly turned away, pretending not to have seen me.

I felt the box in my pocket and I clutched it tight.

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