Page 65 of The Holiday Ex-Files

Noah shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, I don’t want to be a jerk like you accused me of earlier, but—”

“You were totally being a jerk but proceed.” I smirked.

“All right,” he conceded. “I apologize. Anyway, I know these questions won’t be easy for you, but I really need the answers.” He sounded like this was life or death.

“Okay.” I cringed, knowing what was coming.

“First question.” He swallowed hard. “Why don’t you trust yourself?”

I came to a halt and grabbed my heart. “How do you know I don’t?”

He dipped his chin to his chest and gave me a meaningful look.

“Okay, but you could have gone with a softball question first.”

“I’m way past that stage,” he said, frustrated.

My eyes widened. “Wow. This woman has really gotten under your skin. I take it she doesn’t trust herself either.”

“You guessed right. It’s ridiculous, she’s so capable and incredible.”

Okay, okay, we don’t need to know all the gory details about her. Answer his question already, Miss Sparkly demanded.

I started down the trail again, thinking it would be easier to answer if I wasn’t looking directly at him. It was a complicated and layered answer. While I thought of how to put it into words, I focused on the crunch of cornstalks beneath my boots and the earthy smell of Peterson’s. “Noah,” I began, “most of my life, I intuitively knew the right things to do. What classes I should take, which friends to pick, the school I should go to, who I should marry,” I whispered. “With every fiber of my being, I knew Ben was the one for me, and I for him. I trusted myself, and him, implicitly. And then,” my voice hitched, “he violated that trust. At first it was little by little, a criticism here and there. Things I could brush off. But as the months wore on, the slights cut deeper, and I started to believe they were true.” My eyes welled up with tears thinking about that woman.

Noah took my hand. “Cams,” his voice ached, “I didn’t know.”

“How could you have? I was so ashamed and felt so lost. Worse, I allowed it to continue. I did everything I could to try and be worthy of him. I lost weight and did my hair just the way he wanted it. I even spoke softer around people because he said I was too loud and obnoxious.” I cringed saying those words. Words I had never spoken out loud, not even to Mara. “I was so pathetic.”

“Don’t say that. He was the pathetic one.”

“I was pathetic,” I disagreed. “I was going to stay with him, because how could I be so wrong?” I pleaded, knowing full well Noah didn’t have the answer. “It took me walking in on him with another woman before I could leave him.” I had even gotten pregnant with his baby. I couldn’t say that out loud. That I couldn’t own, yet. Maybe someday. I squeezed Noah’s hand, trying to absorb all the comfort I could before letting go. “So, you see, I have a good reason not to trust myself. This woman of yours probably does too.”

Noah stopped and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as if I’d just shocked him. Perhaps I had. Without warning, he drew me to him and embraced me like that would somehow magically put all my broken pieces back together again. If only that would do the trick. Not to say it wasn’t helpful. I found myself wrapping my arms around him, my head landing on his chest. Unsurprisingly, it was rock solid, yet somehow it was a soft landing place. Or was that safe?

Yes. I felt safe in Noah’s arms. I always had. Because no matter what, he liked me for me, even when I was awful to him. And there had never been any expectations with Noah. We were friends, nothing more, nothing less.

He rested his chin on my head. “I knew something was wrong. I didn’t know how wrong. I’m sorry, Cami.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m to blame.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” he roared.

By now several onlookers had passed by. Some immature teen boys even called out, “Move out of the way and get a room.”

After that, Noah and I broke apart faster than the speed of light, both blushing.

I bit my lip. “So, there you have it.” Well, most of it. “I hope that helps.”

Do I really? Miss Sparkly asked.

We do. You more than anyone know why we can’t open ourselves up to possibilities like Noah or other men. We really messed up. Remember when we even agreed not to gain a bunch of weight if we got pregnant and we promised to be back to pre-pregnancy weight by six weeks postpartum? How could we do that?

I know. I know, Miss Sparkly cried. I screwed up, but please don’t keep punishing me.

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