Page 68 of A Not-So Holiday Paradise

I’m vaguely aware of an excited-sounding Mrs. O’Malley telling Wes to give us some privacy—so much for never matchmaking again. But even when Wes grumbles and turns his back to us, I only have eyes for the woman in front of me.

“You,” she repeats as she steps closer, closer, closer, until there’s no more than a few inches of space between us. She presses one finger into my chest, tears coursing down her cheeks. “You don’t have to fall in love with me,” she whispers brokenly. “And distance doesn’t have to make your heart grow fonder. But you’dbetternot forget me.”

And then, with no warning except her searing gaze, she surges up and kisses me.

And I’m helpless to do anything except respond. My arms band around her waist immediately, eliminating what little space is left between us as I pull her as close as I can. She must be on her tiptoes, but I still have to lean down to reach her. I don’t care; I’ll take that pain. Her hands slide up over my chest, over my shoulders, until they’re locked around my neck—her tears on my cheeks and the taste of salt on my tongue as she cries. Every stroke of her lips against mine opens a yawning, gaping chasm inside, an electric desire in my veins, and this is why I couldn’t kiss her when we were alone—because Iwantthis woman, body and mind and soul, and I can’t have her.

Not yet, anyway.

With one last press of her lips to mine, fierce and full of unspoken words, Molly releases me, and the arms that hugged my neck move to hug herself around the waist instead. She just looks at me for an eternal moment, and then she’s gone—out the door that’s left swinging on its hinges as she passes. I hear a distant sob from somewhere outside, and it shatters something deep in my heart.

I hug the rest of the O’Malleys and promise to take care of myself, barely paying attention to a single word that’s coming out of my mouth and ignoring the sympathetic looks of Mr. and Mrs. O’Malley. Wes looks for a second like he’s going to say something to me, but he must be able to tell that now isn’t the time; he just claps me on the shoulder and tells me he’ll talk to me later.

And then they’re gone, all of them, and I’m alone again.

Just me, a Christmas cactus, and a house that’s haunted by the ghost of Molly O’Malley.

Twenty

Beckett

January1

Emotions I feel: sad, weird, hungry

Something I wish I could say: I want to ask her if she thinks hungry is an emotion.

* * *

January6

Emotions I feel: Lonely because my house is quiet. Frustrated because I almost caved and asked Wes how she’s doing.

Something I want to say: I want to tell her I decided hungry isn’t an emotion. I think it’s just a physical state.

* * *

January8

At some point I have to stop thinking about her. Right?

* * *

January10

-eggs

-bread

-tomato soup

-pepperjack

-deli ham

-maybe some of those cheap plastic plates they sell in the bargain aisle

-cups from bargain aisle

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