Page 32 of Mistletoe & Magic
Remy steps into his space, so close I can see Derek tense up and back up.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna stand right there while I take her inside and she gathers up her things, and you’re not gonna say a word while she does it.”
“She owes me—” Derek starts.
“She owes you nothing,” Remy cuts in, voice sharp as a blade. “And if you so much as raise your voice at her, I’ll make sure you regret it. In fact, don’t even talk to her or look at her. If you do, this will go sideways quickly for you.”
Derek’s face twitches in anger, maybe fear, and then he retreats toward his car, muttering and pulling out his phone, pushing some buttons and placing it to his ear.
Remy turns back to me, expression softening in an instant. “Come on. We need to hurry. Let’s get your things. Junie, you stay right here in the truck. Don’t unbuckle.”
I climb out, heart thudding so hard I can feel it in my fingertips. He meets me halfway, his hand brushing the small of my back as he steers me toward the stairs. That one warm, solid touch feels like more safety than I’ve had in months.
Inside, it looks like a completely different home. I recognize Kristin’s things everywhere. There’s an expensive-looking flower bouquet on the kitchen island. I pull out the card, and it says, “Happy three-month anniversary.” Oh, that’s cute. We broke up this week. Nice to know she’s been fucking my boyfriend for three months. Also, Derek never once sent me flowers like that.
I look for Lola everywhere. “She’s not here,” I say to Remy, panic filling my chest.
“We gotta hurry,” Remy says as he glances out the front window at Derek, who is pacing angrily on the phone and waving his hand at the house towards us. “I’ll find out where she is.”
We grab my stuff that was haphazardly shoved into boxes in the guest room. Some of my things are broken, as if someone had tossed them in carelessly. I swipe an angry tear from my eye andpick up another box and carry it out to the trailer. I need to know where Lola is. I don’t want to talk to Derek, though. I can hear him on the phone, and he’s angry. I can’t tell what he’s saying, but I hear my name.
A sharp bark splits the air. Before I can react, a blur of dark gray and black fur comes barreling from the alley, dragging a leash. “Lola!” I crouch just in time for her to leap into my arms, tail wagging so hard her entire body wiggles.
I don’t even glance at her. I can’t. My focus sharpens on getting Lola into the truck, like that’s the only thing that matters, and it is.
Kristin says nothing. Not a word. She just walks over and stands next to Derek like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like she didn’t burn every bridge we ever built.
I feel her presence like a cold draft at my back, sharp and unwelcome. The girl who used to help me fix my hair before job interviews. The one who cried on my couch whenever she had her heart broken. The one who swore she’d never hurt me.
She doesn’t look at me. I don’t look at her.
Lola wiggles free, bolts past me, and launches herself right into the passenger seat of Remy’s truck and over into the back, as if she’s breaking free from Derek, too. Her tongue is hanging out as if she’s not had enough water.
Remy pauses mid-step, box in his arms, head tilting, looking surprised. “That’syour dog?”
“Yeah.” I smile proudly.
His brows draw together. “I was not expecting a cattle dog.”
“What were you expecting?” I ask, grinning with relief at having her back.
He shifts the box to his hip. “I don’t know. Maybe one of those little purse dogs you carry around in a tote.”
I laugh. “Nope. She’s the best dog I’ve ever had.”
He glances at the truck, where Lola is now sitting proudlyin the back seat like she owns the place, tongue hanging out, Junie staring at her in awe and wonder.
“It’s Bluey,” she says in awe as she pets her side. Lola responds by kissing her cheek and turning back to me, looking relieved to see me.
“She already likes Junie,” I say, and from the steady thump of her tail against the seat, I know she agrees.
By the time the last box is in the trailer, my legs are tired, and Lola has claimed Junie’s blanket in the back seat. Junie has poured a water bottle into a cup for her, and she looks more relaxed.
Remy and I walk back in and do one last walk-through, Remy watching the truck as I make my way through room by room. I realize nothing here matters to me. I have my journals, scrapbooks, photos. A wooden chest that my mom had given me. And I have Lola. That’s all I need. Everything else has been tainted by Kristin and Derek, and I don’t want any of it anymore.
The ride back is quiet at first. Junie conks out a few minutes in, her head tipped to the side, little hand still wrapped around Lola like she’s her security blanket.
I stare out at the snow-slick highway until Remy breaks the silence. “I never understood why you were with him.”
