Page 68 of A Very Merry Enemy
Always have been, always will be.
The smiley face doesn’t erase the awful things I’ve said to her. Knowing this information changes so much for me. My heart aches for her, and I barely understand what she went through. But it’s more than e-fucking-nough.
All Holiday has ever wanted is to be loved by someone who loves her just as much. Fifteen years ago, I couldn’t tell her she was the love of my life. If I had, would things be different?
I set my phone down and watch the fire until it burns low.
Some women never leave situations like that. My strong girl did, and she came right back to me, where she’s always belonged.
CHAPTER 13
HOLIDAY
My phone won’t stop buzzing.
I crack one eye open and see seventeen missed calls from my big sister Tricia. She runs a taco truck with her best friend in downtown Merryville and works seventy-hour weeks to support herself and Bethany after her divorce last year. We’ve barely talked in the past three weeks, even though we live seven minutes away from one another. I guess that’s the reality of being an adult these days.
Between her food truck hours and my bakery schedule, we’ve been like ships passing in the night, exchanging quick texts about Bethany’s work schedule and not much of anything else. I’ve had nothing exciting to share, and I refuse to complain about my life when she’s been through so much. Instead of dragging each other down, we just don’t.
Before I can text her, she’s FaceTiming me.
“Have you seen it?” she says in a whisper, her blue eyes soft. Her face is too close to the camera, and she looks exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes that match mine.
I sit up and turn on the bedside lamp, seeing it’s just after four. I look like a hot fucking mess and try to smooth my hair down. “Seen what?”
“The Instagram post.Peoplemagazine. You’re trending, Holiday. Like, actually trending. I should warn you, though. You’re not going to like why.”
My stomach drops as she flips the camera to show me her laptop screen. There’s a photo of Dominic from Wednesday night’s cookie contest meeting, looking polished and perfect in his expensive sweater, wearing a million-dollar smile.
The headline reads:
Michelin-Starred Chef Dominic Laurent to Judge Small-Town Baking Contest Where His Ex-fiancée is Competing. Is This a Second Chance at Love?
“I have to go.” I hang up before she can ask me any questions.
It’s too early for this.
My hands shake as I google my name. Seventeen articles pop up: TMZ, Food & Wine, and Bon Appétit. Basically, every food publication I’ve ever dreamed of being featured in, and they’re writing about my failed engagement instead of my incredible holiday baking skills.
My brows furrow. “Fuck him. He did this on purpose.”
I’m sure this was part of his sabotage plan.
The headlines eventually blur together into keywords—celebrity chef, small-town baker, second chances, holiday romance. They’ve turned my life into a Hallmark movie plot.Ugh!
I cannot be the main character in that type of scenario. I nearly burst into tears thinking about this, because it’s a living nightmare.
How!? How did I end up here, and I’m still somehow running from this man?
Dominic did tell me he’dneverlet me go. I shudder thinkingabout that night when he was so upset. He tossed a crystal wineglass against the wall because he was so frustrated that I wanted to see my family for the holidays last year. I ended up canceling my trip. That was the second time I stayed when I knew I needed to end it.
The third time, well, I’m currently living it.
My phone explodes with notifications. My Instagram followers jump by thousands each time I refresh. There are hundreds of comments on posts of Dominic and me from three years ago that I’d forgotten existed. There are DMs from people I haven’t spoken to since culinary school, asking if Dominic really wants me back.
Of course he does.
He’s always needed me, but what we had wasn’t love. It was convenience, a business decision that came with sexual favors and fancy dinners. We looked great together, seemed to work together flawlessly, but it was all a lie. Isolation will do that to a person.
