Page 38 of One Foggy Christmas
He looks so handsome when he’s being sincere.
“But you’ll have Stetson. He’ll help get you through.” His words are a peace offering, as if he's letting me know he’s resigned to our engagement.
“I’ll have Stetson,” I say to myself just as much as I say it to him.
“Look, you two! You’re under the mistletoe.” Allen lets go of his girlfriend’s waist long enough to point to the hanging plant.
Nash and I slowly lift our eyes to the sprigs directly above us. Our feet stop, and our arms drop.
“You have to kiss. It’s bad luck if you don’t,” Allen’s girlfriend says, keeping her watchful eyes on us as they dance close by.
I run my fingers through my hair, tucking loose strands behind my ear.
Nash’s eyes dart from the ring on my finger to my face. “Sadie’s engaged to another man. It wouldn’t be right to kiss her.”
“Aww, it’s tradition,” Allen barks.
Heartbeats drive through my chest, each pulse laden with worry.
What if Nash kisses me?
What if hedoesn’t?
“Nah.” He takes a step back. “I’ll let Stetson be the one to carry out that tradition with her.”
In one quick beat of my heart, I feel the disappointment of not knowing what a kiss from Nash would feel like and the anxiety of wondering if my worn-out passion with Stetson is all I have to look forward to.
The song slows to an end, but my raging heart pounds on.
“I need some air.” The announcement was more for me than anyone else.
I flee to the exit, walking down the long hallway with awful burnt-orange carpet until I’m through the hotel lobby and outside.
Biting cold air splashes over my skin. I close my mouth, breathing its coolness in through my nose. My back rests against the side of the building, using it to hold me up. Slowly, I lift my chin, fighting the blinding streetlights for a glimpse at the night sky.
“I like you.”
I straighten like a soldier called to attention and stare back at Nash. A small place in the corner of my heart hoped he would follow me outside. But corners of hearts are dangerous. That’s where we hide the wants we shouldn’t have.
“If things were different, I’d more thanlikeyou.”
My head shakes as I begin my rebuttal. “Nash, I?—”
“You don’t have to say anything. I already know. That’s why I’m putting my hands in my pockets and walking away. I just wanted to say it out loud one time. I like yousomuch.” His shoulders lift, and his next words come out on a laugh. “I guess I said it twice.”
“I…I can’t?—”
“Goodnight, Sadie.” In one goodbye, he ends our conversation and walks past me down the sidewalk, calling over his shoulder. “Have a good Thanksgiving.”
I stand speechless, watching him walk away until I can’t see the outline of his body any longer.
SADIE
Stetson convincedme to stay the week at my parents’ house instead of Autumn’s. It’s important to him that I patch things up with my family, but each day I’m here, I’m more and more annoyed at how my parents act like Tate’s just gone with friends, not buried six feet deep down at the town cemetery.
I want someone to cry, to show that they’re struggling with him gone as much as I am, but they’re all smiles in Skaneateles, and it’s driving me crazy. Even Stetson is oblivious to my pain. The only time we’ve talked about how hard this week is was when I brought it up. I want him to care, to look across the room at me, see the sadness on my face and offer a kind smile, or at night, after all the turkey has been eaten, pull me into his lap and let me cry on his chest. Instead, I’ve been waiting until I’m alone and crying into my pillow.
Tears prick my eyes. It’s such a contrast to the carefree conversation happening around the dinner table right now between Stetson and my parents.
