Page 13 of A Christmas Road Trip

“Whatever he was worth,” I say slowly, “it doesn’t mean I won’t be upset.”

“Sure. Makes sense. As long as you know you’re grieving your own hopes and dreams and not really grieving the loss of him.”

That comment surprises me. I have to pause to think about it for a minute. Then my shoulders slump. “Shit. You’re right.”

“I know I’m right.”

I roll my eyes to acknowledge the obnoxiousness. A clench in my chest is starting to loosen as I realize that Chase has landed on exactly what I’m feeling.

“You don’t miss him. Not personally. Not at all. Do you?”

“No,” I admit. “Not at all. I miss everything I’d built up in my mind surrounding him. Damn, I must be an idiot.”

“Don’t call yourself that.” His tone is as easy and leisurely as his stride. “You saw him as better than he really is. You’re not the bad guy here—except maybe to yourself.”

“How am I the bad guy to myself?”

His eyes are still fixed in front of us, focused on an empty spot in the air. “Next time maybe latch all your hopes and dreams onto someone who loves you and will never let you go.”

The insight hits me weirdly. Stuns me. Makes that lump grow in my throat again, making me want to choke.

I can’t speak for a minute. When Chase turns to check my face, I nod so he’ll know I heard him. Agree with him.

“And don’t you dare cancel your trip.”

“I’m not going to. I keep saying if I can’t find anyone to go with me, I’ll just go alone.” I sigh. “You sure you don’t want to come?”

We’ve reached his grandmother’s house—a rambling, hundred-year-old farmhouse on a large lot. He pauses on the sidewalk and turns to face me. “I’m supposed to work.”

“I know, but do you really have to work? Dell’s nieces are always in town on college break, right? Don’t they always want to get some temp hours in over the holidays?”

“Y-yeah,” he replies slowly. “You really want me to come with you?”

“Of course.” I blink a few times. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know.”

I don’t understand his hesitation, but I’m suddenly getting excited. Filled with hope and anticipation. Not just because I might not have to go alone but because the trip suddenly feels much better with Chase along.

“I mean it, Chase,” I say when he still appears to be waging a mental debate. “I’d love for you to come. It would be fun. You’d make it... fun.”

“Yeah?” His expression has relaxed. His eyes look very blue.

“Yeah.” I feel myself swaying closer to him. I can’t seem to look away. “I think we’d have a really good time together.”

“I know we would.” There’s an odd texture in his voice.

It gets me ridiculously excited.

Then his face changes. He pulls back. Gives his head a quick shake. “Oh. Sorry. I really can’t go.”

It feels like a kick in the gut. The disappointment momentarily takes my breath.

I pull myself together as quickly as I can and give him the smile I’ve been giving everyone else all day. “Okay. No worries. Just thought I’d ask.”

“I’m sorry.” He starts down the front walk toward the door, and I fall into step with him. “I wish I could go.”

“No worries. I’ll be fine on my own.” My voice cracks, but only slightly. I’m almost positive he won’t have noticed.

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