Page 81 of That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe
“Failed?”
Three’s staring at me. “Yes.” His mouth shifts into a grim line.
“What are you talking about?” I pull away. “Are you saying I made you feel unworthy?” I blink at him, bewildered, and a ribbon of unease unfurls in my stomach. “Because that’s definitely not how I felt. You were everything to me, and if I ever made you think otherwise … I’m just … I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what else to say.”
“Sara.”
“What?” My cheeks heat up and my brain starts a rapid-fire inventory of the past. Yes, I was a prep school girl going off to an expensive college, but I sure didn’t equate money with worth. And I’m pretty sure Three Fuller knew he was my whole world back then. Always.
His jaw ticks. “It wasn’t you.”
Another blink of bewilderment. “Then where on earth did you get the idea you were unworthy?”
His face twists into a grimace, like the words hurt him on the way out. “Partly from my own insecurity. That, I can own. And I still sometimes wonder if I’m good enough for you.” He takes a beat, clears the gravel from his throat. “But it was your parents who said the actual words.”
“My mom and dad?”
“I’m sorry.”
“No way.” I shake my head, and my spine goes stiff in defense of them. “All they ever complained about wasme. Like my mom got annoyed when I stopped getting facials and mani-pedis with her. And my dad kept bugging me about applying for fall internships. But they absolutelyneversaid a negative word about you. Ever.”
Three waits several moments before responding. “Maybe not directly. Out loud.” He takes another beat. “But you had to know how they felt.”
“My parents liked you.” My lip begins to tremble. “BecauseIliked you.”
“Well, they sure didn’t like mewithyou.” Three’s voice is gritty now, like sand pushed through a too-tight hourglass.
“That’s just not true.”
“Think about it, Sara.” His eyes take on a tortured squint. “You were on your way to Stanford, and they were convinced I’d hold you back.”
“Why are you saying this? What did they ever do to make you think they?—”
“I heard them, Sara.” His Adam’s apple dips. “With my own ears. In their own words.” I dart my eyes over to the living room couch. “They were sitting right there.”
I feel like I’m at the edge of a cliff, being propelled over the edge with nothing stopping me from a swift plummet to the bottom. “You were eavesdropping?” I choke out.
“Not on purpose.” Three pulls down his brow. “You were leaving the next morning, so I came over to pick you up for ourlast date. I had a leather cuff to give you, like mine but smaller. Kind of like a promise bracelet.”
I suck in a breath, my insides doing somersaults. “You did?”
“Yeah.” He averts his gaze. “I was so nervous, my hands were shaking. I had to stuff them in my pockets. When I got here, that front door was open with just the screen. So was the window. Letting in the breeze, I guess.”
“I remember that day. There’d been a heatwave all week. I was packing when you texted that you were out front.”
“I’d already been there for a while by then. Long enough to find out you dad thought I was ruining your future.” He picks up his fork, starts tapping it against the edge of his plate. “And your mom didn’t disagree.”
“Whatever you heard …” I pause for a moment, feeling sick for him, “I’m sure they didn’t mean anything against you. They were probably just a little scared.”
“Of me?” His eyes darken.
“No,” I rush to say. “Afraid of losing me.”
A sad scoff puffs across his lips. “Well, that’s not what it sounded like.”
“What exactly did they say?”
He releases a long, slow breath from somewhere deep inside him. Deeper than his lungs. Like it’s coming from his soul. “Your dad said something like, ‘Sara needs a man who’ll push her to reach her potential, not some small-town kid with no goals.’ Then your mom said you didn’t need a man at all. That you already had your hands full with your own plans. That I’d only hold you back.” He pushes his hands through his hair. “The worst part is, I didn’t disagree. With either of them.”
