Page 34 of Once Upon a Holiday Vacation
The movie droned on in the background, its cheerful holiday music a stark contrast to the melancholy settling over me like a heavy blanket. I closed my eyes, remembering the warmth of Weston’s hand in mine, the way the cool metal of his lip piercing felt against my lips.
“Stop it,” I growled, shaking my head violently. “You can’t keep torturing yourself like this. It’s over. Time to move on and get over this ridiculous crush.”
But even as I said the words, I knew it was hopeless. My heart had belonged to Weston Holt since we were kids, and I was starting to think it always would.
The sudden blaring of my ringtone jolted me from my misery. My heart leapt into my throat as I lunged for the phone, nearly knocking over the eggnog in my haste. Hope surged through me like a lightning bolt as I checked to see if it was Weston, but then my shoulders slumped. Laura.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Easton! How was the cruise?” Laura’s cheerful voice burst through the speaker, deflating my momentary elation.
I leaned back into the couch, running a hand through my disheveled hair. “Oh, hey, Laura. It was... fine.”
“Just fine? Come on, spill! I want all the juicy details.”
I winced, my stomach churning at the thought of rehashing the whole charade. “Really, it wasn’t that exciting. You know, just your typical vacation stuff.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, skepticism dripping from her tone. “And how was all that alone time with Weston? Did you two share any mistletoe moments?”
I let out a strangled laugh. “God, Laura, we’re not like that and we never will be.”
“Easton Beckett, I can hear you moping through the phone. What happened?”
I sighed, feeling my carefully constructed facade crumbling. “It was... it was amazing, okay? And terrible. And wonderful. And completely, utterly heartbreaking.”
The words tumbled out of me in a rush, equal parts confession and catharsis as I told her the whole sordid story, omitting only the most personal details. “We held hands, and cuddled, and acted like we were madly in love. And the worst part is, for me, it wasn’t even acting. I got to live out this perfect fantasy for a week, knowing the whole time it wasn’t real.”
I paused, choking back a sob. “And now I’m back here, alone, realizing that I’ll never have that for real. How pathetic is that?”
Laura’s voice softened, filled with warmth and understanding. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. That must have been incredibly difficult for you.”
I clutched the phone tighter, grateful for her compassion. “Thanks. I just... I don’t know how to move past this.”
“You know,” she said, her tone tentative, “maybe what you need is a distraction. Something to help you get your mind off Weston.”
I frowned, suspicion creeping into my voice. “What are you suggesting?”
“Well,” she drew out the word, “what about that cute guy you mentioned? Tanner, right? Didn’t he give you his number?”
My mind flashed back to that day, Tanner’s confident smile as he slipped me his number. I felt a twinge of guilt, as if even considering it was a betrayal to Weston. “I don’t know, Laura. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“Come on. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. Just a casual date, maybe coffee? It might help you remember there are other fish in the sea.”
I chewed my lip, conflicted. “But what if?—”
“What if nothing,” she interrupted gently. “You deserve to be happy, Easton. And pining after your best friend isn’t doing you any favors.”
I sighed, knowing she had a point. “I guess you’re right. But the thought of dating someone else... it feels so strange.”
“Then choose a place you’re comfortable with. Somewhere with lots of people, so you won’t have to fill every second with conversation. No pressure, no expectations. Just two people getting to know each other.”
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Okay. Maybe... maybe I’ll give it a shot.”
I ended the call, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The phone felt heavy in my hand as I paced the living room, my socked feet padding softly on the hardwood floor. Each step was punctuated by the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner, a constant reminder that time was moving forward, even if I felt stuck.
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered to myself, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “It’s just a phone call. Just a date. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
But as I stared at Tanner’s number on my screen, my thumb hovering over the call button, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was somehow a mistake. I flopped onto the couch, sinking into the cushions. “Come on, Easton,” I chided myself. “You can’t keep living in this fantasy. Weston doesn’t feel the same way. He never will.”
