Page 67 of Bleeding Hearts

“It was my pleasure.” Beth pulls the tape off one box and removes a string of lights.

Because misery loves company, I grunt. “Bethany, if you want to change your mind?—”

“I don’t.” With a cold detachment, she cuts me off mid-sentence and twists the knife buried in my back, her eyes avoiding mine. “I’m seeing someone else.”

That shuts me up while it drives that knife deeper.

I think she’s lying, but it doesn’t matter. She’s just proven that she’s willing to go that extra mile to make sure I don’t get my hopes up. I’m tempted to walk away and leave this mess for her and her new man to figure out, but Mollie and Kellie join us, so I suffer and get to work.

For the next two hours, we work in an uncomfortable silence that is only broken by the girls’ chatter. Once everything is set up, we admire our collective efforts. I’ve gotta admit it looks amazing, and now I hate Christmas lights even more.

Kellie slips her hand in mine as she smiles up at me with a sadness I know we share. “Mom would have loved this.”

“I know, kiddo,” I tell her as I squeeze her hand and tug her under my arm. “She loved making me put all those damn lights up the first of November. And you know what? I loved it too.”

I’d almost forgotten Bethany was standing there until her voice invades my space. “That’s why you hated mine so much. Fudgesicles. I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

I shrug and walk back across the street to grab my stuff before she sees more than I want her to. My dead wife loved Christmas. She was a fanatic about decorating. As soon as they started selling Christmas decorations in the stores, she’d come home with a new item each week. I’d give her shit about it too, pretend it bothered me and grumbled about how no one should think about Christmas until the first of December. And after she died, I couldn’t get myself to pull out her collection and decorate. It was too hard.

Then we moved across the street from a woman who loved Christmas as much as Stephanie did. Putting out shit the day after Halloween, and at first it bothered me, made me wantto go rip them all down. But over time, I started seeing it as something else, and that’s when I began giving her shit about not understanding the rules. And Bethany, just like Stephanie, only let that fuel her crazy and ran with it. And I believe that may have been when my heart slowly started to heal.

“Nolan.”

I don’t bother looking at her. “What now, Bethany? Do you want to share all the details about the new man in your life?”

“There is no new man,” she blurts out, causing me to quickly lift my head, instantly regretting it. “Not yet, at least. But that’s not what I was going to say. I wanted to say if you need a friend, I’m here.”

My mood drops to a new low.

“Never gonna happen.” I toss the ladder in the truck bed, making a loud clunk. “You think you can manage taking these down before July this year?”

Her response is a wordless nod.

“Good, because I think it’s best if I don’t. I’m sure you understand.” And then I jump in my truck and back it into my driveway.

Glancing up, I see Bethany still standing in the same spot. The lights illuminate her beauty and I hate that I can’t stop loving her when I know she will never love me back.

Bah fucking humbug!!

Chapter 32

Bethany

DECEMBER

“What do you mean, you’re not coming?” Jodi’s tone suggests she’s about to go all out.

“Just that. I’m not coming.”

“Why?”

“Jodi, does it really matter why? I don’t feel like going to a party.” I don’t. The last thing I want to do is go to a damn party. “Plus, Davis is stopping by, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving the boys here with him.”

“I can’t believe he’s out already. I thought they said a year.”

Davis phoned a few days ago to say he’s out on parole and wants to visit the boys. I could’ve easily said no, but he’s their dad, no matter what he’s done. Not the best influence on them, but that’s not their fault. That’s his.

“He served the minimum, and now he’s on parole. He mentioned wanting to speak with me as well. Not exactly sure what about, but I feel like I owe it to the boys to find out.” Kicking off my shoes, I stretch out on the couch. “He’s supposed to be here in an hour.”

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