Page 16 of The Holiday Ex-Files

He ran a hand through his hair. “You have no idea.”

“Well, not that I’m a relationship expert, obviously, but maybe you should stop doing photo shoots with your flavor of the month—or are we up to a week now?” I admonished him.

He gave me a crooked smile. “I’m going to do as many photo shoots as I need to.”

“Need?”

“Yep, each photo shoot brings me closer to the woman I love.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you say.” I started to walk off in search of those cupcakes my mom had made.

Noah unexpectedly grabbed my hand. “Cami, wait.”

I looked down at our hands. That strange comfort filled me again.

He pulled me closer before pointing at my graduation picture. “If you need help finding that woman, just let me know.” He dropped my hand and strode off like he hadn’t just blown my mind. How did he know that’s what I had lost? I took another long look at the woman I was seven years ago. I loved her. Not to say I didn’t love myself now, but I felt as if part of me were missing. The parts of me I loved the most but made me the most vulnerable. And vulnerability wasn’t something I was sure I could ever afford again.

Chapter Five

Good morning, Ex-Filers, I hope you made it through another weekend. Make sure to mark yourself safe and single in the comments. For all of you who succumbed to coupledom, I’ll never judge. Believe me, I get it. We seem hardwired with the desire to cuddle. Just remember cuddling is a gateway drug. It starts out all innocent and then the next thing you know, BAM! You’re wedding cake tasting. And while some may pass through the gates unharmed or even better for it, there are just as many, or more, who need a twelve-step program to recover. Or worse, their souls die a painful death. It’s why I can’t caution you enough to stay safe out there. Please. Just say no.

If you do ever find yourself trapped behind that gate, please don’t be afraid to reach out for help. I’m here for you.

Lots of love,

Cami

I internally sighed, wishing so badly I would have been brave enough to even acknowledge that all wasn’t well in my marriage. Ben had confused me so much, but I’d kept plowing through. Convincing myself over and over again that he was just having a bad day or he was stressed. Or worse, I really just needed to be better, then I would be worthy of his love. If ever I did bring up my concerns to him, he would turn on the charm with expensive nights out and weekend getaways. He would say things like, You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. Or, From the first moment I saw you, I knew my life would never be the same. He really got me with, Make a baby with me. I want a girl just like you.

But that same mouth would criticize my choice of clothes and carefree attitude, even my overexuberance for the holidays. Some days I could never please him, no matter how hard I’d tried. That’s because someone else was pleasing him. Judging by the scene I’d come across of them under the tree, she was really, really pleasing him. Let’s just say, Claudia can and Claudia did. I didn’t even know a body could bend like that. Some vomit rose in my throat just thinking about it. If I could have sprayed Lysol in my eyes that night, I would have.

It was the past. And I had survived. I clicked publish and sat back in the waiting room chair of the fancy schmancy hair salon I’d been going to since high school. My mom said there were three things in life you should never skimp on: shoes, hair, and toilet paper. We were a Charmin family, all the way, baby. No one-ply for us. We were also an Andrew family. Andrew Hanson, that is. He’s the best stylist around and does all our hair, even my dad’s. There were so many of us now that Andrew had dedicated his retirement account to us.

The thing about Andrew is, he’s cut and dry, no pun intended. You got the style he thought worked best for you and your hair. It was his way or the highway. Well, he’d made one exception—me. I knew he didn’t like my hair long. But it was like he knew why I had grown it out. And that I hadn’t needed another man to tell me I wasn’t enough.

Amid the calming atmosphere that smelled of peppermint and citrus, I thought a lot about that girl in the photo on my dad’s wall. That girl didn’t need anyone to tell her she was worth something. She didn’t care what people thought about her hair because she was happy and comfortable with herself. It had never dawned on her that she would ever be anything else. Just like it had never crossed her mind or her heart that Ben would ever be anything but happy and comfortable with her. It was sad how much I had let him wreck my self-esteem. Even sadder was that I was still letting him affect me.

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