Page 34 of Holiday Unscripted
I pull out one of the stools and sit down, grabbing a slice of cheese pizza, folding it, and then taking a bite before twisting open the bottle of beer. “I forget how much I miss pizza until I taste it here.”
“There isn’t a good pizza place back home?” he asks me as he takes another bite.
“It’s just not the same,” I say, taking another bite. “Where are the decorations for the tree?”
“In the garage. I usually keep them outside in the shed,” he tells me, “but I knew I would have to put up the tree.”
“Usually you have it up by now?” I ask him and he nods.
“But then I got so busy at work, knowing I would be taking off time for the wedding, so I just didn’t get around to it.”
“So, no regrets starting your own veterinary practice?” I ask as I take another bite.
“Not one,” he confirms. “It was tough at the beginning, obviously, since you have to build it from the ground up. Find new clients, prove yourself and all that.” He leans on the counter looking at me. “What about you, Elizabeth?” My body gets shivers when he says my name like that. “Do you like Australia?”
“I do,” I admit, “it’s home now.” Even saying the words, I am not sure it is. It should be. I’ve been there long enough. But now it feels like one foot is in, one foot is out.
“Is it?” he asks me and I nod my head. “Are you with anyone?”
“I don’t have time to date,” I confess to him, then ask him the question I have not had the balls to ask him, nor have I heard anything about from any of my family members. “What about you?”
He shakes his head. “Not now, but I was with Britt for about three years,” he shares, shocking me. “We even bought a house together.”
I blink and the pizza falls from my hand onto the box. “I’m sorry what?”
“What, what?” he asks me.
“You were with someone for three years”—he nods—“and had a house together?” I repeat the words to make sure that I heard him correctly. “This house?” I point to the counter.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I bought this after we broke up.”
“Why did you break up?” I ask him, the pizza in my stomach feeling like it’s going to curdle or something.
“She wanted the next step,” he replies, standing up and taking a pull of his beer.
“You mean she wanted to get married?” I say, ignoring the pounding of my heart or the way this news is affecting me, it’s getting harder and harder to breathe when it feels like my chest is caving in.
“Yeah.”
“Well, obviously.” I roll my eyes. “After three years, why didn’t you propose?” Asking the question has the back of my neck tingling.
“I’m not really sure, something was just missing.”
“Three years?” I repeat.
“Three years.”
“Who broke up with who?” I ask him.
“She basically said if I wasn’t thinking of marriage now, I would never be thinking of it,” he states, looking at me. “So we had a come-to-Jesus moment, and I had to admit I didn’t see us married. Not then and not in the future.”
“You are so lucky,” I tell him and his eyebrows pinch together. “If that was me and after three years you were like, it’s never going to happen.” I pfft. “I would burn your shit, all of it. You’d be living in your truck, naked.”
“Why would I be naked?” He cocks a hip.
“Because, I burned all your shit. All of it. Down to, like, your condoms.”
He throws his head back and laughs harder. “I’m not kidding with you, Nate.”
