“I can’t break up with him at Christmas!” Jared’s voice rose incredulously.
Earlier in the day, I’d decided to take the afternoon off work for an early start to two glorious weeks of vacation time over the holidays. After running a few errands, I’d eased open the door of our townhouse to call out to Jared that I’d brought home a surprise—our first Christmas tree together.
But now I strained to listen over the thudding of my heart.
It had to be the TV. Sure, it had sounded exactly like Jared’s smooth, slightly nasal voice, but… It couldn’t have been. After working my butt off at making this relationship a success, I couldn’t have overheard my boyfriend talking about breaking up with me.
Not just my boyfriend—my partner. I wasn’t a kid anymore. Jared and I were partners. Maybe this was a bad joke. Some kind of terrible, out-of-character prank?
Ho-ho-ho?
Jared muttered, “I know.” It sounded like he was in the kitchen at the back of the townhouse. The hardwood floor creaked—which drove Jared nuts even though I thought it added charm. Warm light spilled into the hallway, flickering with his shadow as he moved restlessly. I could picture him pacing by the granite-topped island.
Jared sighed. “There’s no good time to tell him. That’s true. Still. I have to wait until January. He’s so excited about our first Christmas together here. I can’t do it.” A pause. “I know I’m not a Christmas person, but it’s fine. It makes him happy.”
I stood there clutching the twine-bound tree, my nose full of pine. The paper shopping bag on the bristly outdoor mat beneath my feet contained an artisanal mulled wine kit and chestnuts for roasting. And wait, Jared didn’t like Christmas? I knew he wasn’t a fan of tacky decorations and cheesy songs, but…
I’d stashed boxes of tasteful gold and silver ornaments that would fit Jared’s minimalist style under the bed yesterday. I knew he wouldn’t like the idea of dropped needles on the floor, so I’d bought the newest automatic watering system for the tree. The trunk of my Hyundai hatchback was crammed with gifts and rolls of the classiest wrapping paper I could find.
I had planned every detail of our Instagram-worthy Christmas.
Jared exhaled loudly. “I know, Steph. He must see it coming, right? Unless he’s in denial. Fuck, I hate this.”
Oh, god. I’d thought everything was perfect, and now it was disintegrating in front of my eyes. Well, my ears. Rigid, I waited for him to say more to his sister.
I’d always gotten along with Stephanie, or at least I thought I had? She was only looking out for Jared, and it wasn’t about me. That didn’t make it hurt less.
And okay, perfect was a strong word for my relationship with Jared. But everything was pretty good, wasn’t it? I’d been so careful since I moved into the townhouse to keep everything running smoothly. All the experts said compromise was key, and I’d compromised like a champion, hadn’t I?
“It’s only another couple of weeks. I’ll tell him in the new year.” A pause. “I know.” Another pause. “Steph, I couldn’t do it before because we went to Tampa to visit his folks for Thanksgiving. We had plane tickets, and they took us to Universal. And yes, I hate theme parks, but I couldn’t back out.”
I tasted acid. I’d been so proud to show off Jared to my parents. Proof that I was indeed a responsible adult now, and they didn’t have to worry about me or lend me money. They could live their best retired lives.
For too long in my twenties, I’d drifted. Working okay jobs with no future for advancement. Dating okay people while nursing my impossible crush. I had a steady office job now with benefits, and my impossible crush was a hundred percent over.
Gripping the teetering Christmas tree, I braced for thoughts of Will, which were the last thing I needed. Will was straight. He was never going to love me back. I’d had to put distance between us—at least while I got over him. I’d made a plan, grown up, and figured out my life. I was no longer in love with my best friend.
Whether Will was still my best friend was another story, but my hands were full with problems at the moment, including being stabbed by pine needles through my thin gloves as I fought to stay quiet while keeping the Christmas tree vertical.
Jared groaned. “I was hoping… I don’t know. That it would all magically work out. Of course, I should have ended it months ago.”
Months?!
I’d only moved into the townhouse in March. Which meant Jared had decided humiliatingly quickly that he didn’t want me to stay. We’d dated for more than a year before living together. I’d been so freaking careful not to jump into anything. Should I have seen this coming? Had I? My head spun, and I clung to the tree.
“I just feel so sorry for him.”
I jerked violently—then scrambled to keep hold of the tipping tree. Needles clawed my cheek as I tripped backward.
See above, re: best-laid plans.
Kicking over the fancy paper bag on my way down, I hit the shoveled stoop, my jeans offering no protection and my peacoat not much more. Glass smashed on the freezing concrete.
The tree pinning me, I sank back in defeat, my head perilously close to the edge of the top step. The jagged granules of rock salt I’d sprinkled over the walkway that morning dug into my skull.
Jared appeared in the open doorway wearing his favorite dress pants and black silk sweater, a furrow between his thin brows before they shot up. “Babe! Are you okay?”
I nodded, struggling to retain a shred of dignity. Jared hauled the tree off me, his handsome face transforming into a familiar smile as he laughed and cracked some joke I couldn’t make out over the buzzing in my ears.
My throat swelled painfully, tears burning my eyes. If I hadn’t just overheard him, I wouldn’t have had a damn clue anything was wrong. I was so stupid. I’d had no idea he wanted to break up with me. That he didn’t love me anymore. God, did he not love me?
Do I love him? Or did I only want to love him?
“Mike? Shit, babe. You are hurt.”
Choking down a scream/shout/sob, I pushed myself up to sitting while Jared wrangled the tree into the narrow foyer. When he turned back, his eyes bugged out.
“Jesus! Are you bleeding?” He lunged out the door in his Italian leather slippers. Dropping to his knees, he groped my left thigh, and I blinked down at the dark stain on my jeans.
“Wine,” I croaked. “Careful—you’ll get it on your pants.”
Jared pressed a hand to his chest, seeming to notice the red-soaked paper bag for the first time. The wine had sloshed all over the stoop, and my hip was wet with it.
He exhaled noisily. “You gave me a heart attack. I don’t care about my pants.”
“There’s broken glass.”
He ignored that. “You’re sure you’re okay? What happened to your face?”
I dodged his hand, squirming away and almost sliding backward down the handful of steps to the tiny front yard where I’d proudly planted a row of petunias that had lived half the summer. I swiped at my smooth cheek—now scratched to hell.
My blond facial hair grew patchy on my pale skin and took forever, so I’d learned to lean into my baby face. Maybe it would scar, and I’d finally look thirty and not like I was still in college. Swipes of blood stained my gray gloves.
Jared reached for me again. “You’re hurt. Let me help you.”
“What do you care?” I half shouted, cringing at my patheticness. Was that a word? If it wasn’t, it should have been.
“Babe, what’s—” He blinked, glancing back at the open door. His concern morphed with resignation to form a sad, defeated expression. “How much did you hear?”
I shrugged, ignoring the flare of pain in my shoulder blade. “Enough.”
Jared rubbed his face, his stubble scratching audibly before he ran his hands through his gelled brown hair. Somehow, it still looked only artfully out of place. He was rarely messy. It was one of his wonderfully mature qualities I’d been attracted to.
He muttered, “Shit, babe. I didn’t want it to be like this. Especially not at Christmas.” He carefully stood and stepped back over the broken glass to the beige interior welcome mat, rubbing his slippers on it. “Let’s talk inside. It’s freezing.” He reached out his hand.
I let him haul me up and inside the foyer, where the pine took up almost the whole space. I stopped on the mat, the door still open behind me. Jared shifted from foot to foot, crossing and uncrossing his arms.
“Why?” I asked, the single word scraping my throat.
Deep down, I knew the answer, didn’t I?
Jared blinked back tears. “It’s not you, I swear. You’re great. But it was a mistake to move in together. I should have known better.” He held up his palms. “Again, not because of you. Because of me. I love living alone. But like I said, you’re great, so I wanted to try.” He sighed. “It’s not working for me. We’re not working. We rushed it.”
“We didn’t! We were together for more than a year. We didn’t jump into this without thinking. There was a plan.”
“Was there, though? You got evicted by that shitty landlord that sold to a developer, and I thought it was time to stretch my boundaries and get out of my comfort zone.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I really like you, but…”
“Like. Not love.” My mouth flooded with saliva. I was going to hurl all over our scotch pine. Though not ours now. There was no more us and we and ours. Just like that.
He dropped his arms to his sides. “I wanted to love you. Honestly.”
All I could do was nod. It would be too humiliating to sob.
Evidently having hoarded these words for months, they spilled out of Jared now. “I really do like you! But we don’t quite fit. Come on—you have to know that. We don’t like the same kind of music or TV shows. I hate that true crime shit you’re addicted to.”
“So we compromise!” I shouted with a burst of frustration. “Haven’t we compromised?”
“Yes!” He stood straighter, fisting his hands. “We compromise on everything. Don’t we deserve to get what we really need? What we really want?” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, sputtering before blurting, “I mean, we both like to get fucked! You can’t stand there and tell me we’ve ever really clicked in bed even though we were really attracted to each other at first.”
My face was so hot my cheeks had to be bright red. God, did we have to talk about this? “I told you I don’t mind topping. It’s fine.”
And it was! It wasn’t like I didn’t get off. I’d penetrated plenty of my exes. Giving other people what they needed did turn me on. Maybe not quite as much as some other stuff did, but that was okay. It was!
His mouth tugged down, and his voice turned pleading. “You shouldn’t be settling for ‘fine.’ And if it was only about sex, sure, we could talk about options for an open relationship. But it’s about everything being ‘fine.’ As much as I care about you, ‘fine’ isn’t enough. I don’t want to settle.”
I really was going to puke.
“Haven’t I done everything you want?” I cringed at how small I sounded. How young.
Jared exhaled, his face creasing like he was in pain. “Yes. You’re so sweet and generous, and you’ve bent over backwards for me. At first, I thought you were my dream come true. You’re the most caring and thoughtful guy I’ve ever dated.”
“Then what did I do wrong?” I was practically begging.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. But catering to my whims isn’t healthy. I feel like you’re walking on eggshells trying to keep me happy. Trying to be this perfect version of yourself. You’re too…careful. It makes me feel like shit. Like I can’t be real with you. Ba—” He cut himself off. “Mike—”
“I hate being called ‘Mike,’” I blurted. He wanted real? There.
He blinked. “What?”
“My name is Michael.”
“But everyone calls you Mike.” He stared, eyes wide. “Why the hell didn’t you say something?”
All I could do was shrug. “I’m used to it.”
“See, this is the problem! You settle all over the place!” Groaning, Jared shook his head. “Fuck, I hate saying this to you. Which is why I’ve been putting it off. Also, because it’s Christmas, and I know it’s a big deal to you to do the cozy, snowy, traditional thing.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I insisted reflexively.
Jared looked down pointedly at the fallen tree at our feet. “Tell me you weren’t planning on decorating and taking pics of us in cable-knit sweaters sipping cocoa and pretending we don’t have any problems.”
“I just thought it would be nice!”
“Because you actually love Christmas or because you want everything to look perfect on Insta?”
I flinched. As much as I wanted to argue, I couldn’t.
“We need to face facts,” Jared said more firmly. “We can’t settle. You’re thirty, and I’m thirty-three. We can’t coast along in a relationship that’s not working. I think we really liked the idea of us. The reality? Not so much.”
All I could do was nod.
He shivered. “Shut the door. Come on, let’s talk this out.”
What else was there to say? Broken glass crunched under my boots on the landing and chestnuts rolled down the steps as I escaped, leaving my now ex-boyfriend—ex-partner—a nine-foot organic scotch pine, and the life I’d wanted so desperately to be mine in my wake.
“Mike?”
I would have hit the roof of the hatchback—not hard to do since there were only a few inches of clearance—if I hadn’t been wearing my seatbelt.
Cursing myself for spacing out, I focused on Zoe squinting at me from the bungalow’s porch. She wore fluffy Ugg boots but no coat, holding her cardigan closed at her throat, the icy wind blowing her dark curls into her eyes.
Zoe’s muffled voice came again as she called, “Mike? Is that you?”
The key was still in the ignition, but Zoe was already picking her way down the slick driveway. It sloped just enough to be treacherous in the winter, which I’d learned the hard way more than once back in the day when I’d lived here with Zoe and Will and a few roommates.
Her parents had bought the house as an investment property so she had a safe place to live during college. With prices skyrocketing now, it’d been a smart move.
What was I even doing here? In my aimless driving around Albany, trying to process that my hard-earned relationship with Jared was over, my brain’s muscle memory had apparently brought me back to my former home. I’d lived in a couple of apartments between this house and moving into Jared’s, but it seemed neither had made a lasting impression on my subconscious.
Great. I hadn’t seen Zoe in person in a few years, and now I was sitting outside my ex-girlfriend’s place like some kind of creep in my extremely recognizable orange car, which glowed like a beacon even in the quickly fading daylight.
Her pretty face creased in understandable confusion, Zoe knocked on the driver-side window, her solitaire diamond engagement ring glinting in the rays of the setting sun. The glass was tinted enough that it was only once I rolled down the window that Zoe saw my scratched face.
She gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth, her cardigan flapping open in the wind. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine! It’s nothing.” Shit, my face must have looked worse than I’d thought. I flipped down the mirror on the back of the visor and grimaced.
Yep, dried blood streaked over my cheek and the scratches had swelled. Was I suddenly allergic to Christmas trees? That would be just my luck after how today had gone.
“Did you get in an accident?” Zoe pressed.
I shook my head. “Christmas tree wrestling. ’Tis the season.”
“Right. Okay. So…” She frowned. “Is everything all right with Jared? And work?”
Ignoring the first part, I said, “Work’s great! I got a promotion last month.”
“Yeah? You’re still at that e-commerce company?”
“Yep. Still responding to customer complaints, but now I’m training and monitoring new staff. I’ve got vacation time until the new year. It’s a great company.”
“Cool.” Her sculpted brows met. “What are you doing here? Did something happen with Jared? I thought everything was going well. Thanksgiving in Tampa looked awesome. You seemed really happy finally.”
Could I just drive away? I toyed with the option before dismissing it and confessing, “We broke up.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.” Zoe tensed and reached through the open window to grab my shoulder. “Did he do that to your face?”
“No. It was the stupid tree. Jared’s not like that.”
She relaxed and let go of me. “Okay. I thought maybe Will was right.”
Blood rushing in my ears, I squeaked, “Will?”
“Our former roommate? Your best friend?” She arched a brow. “Ring any bells? Or did you ghost him right out of your memory?”
“I didn’t ghost him!” Hot shame washed over me. Vomiting was definitely back on the table.
“Then why are you being so defensive?”
“I’m not! I’ve just been busy.”
Zoe’s dubious expression was sadly familiar from when we dated. “If you say so.”
“Why? What…” I swallowed thickly. “What did Will tell you?”
She shrugged as an older woman’s commanding voice called out, “Is that Mike?”
“Here we go,” Zoe muttered, rolling her eyes. “You’re still her favorite after all this time. My parents just arrived for the holidays. We’re renovating the bathroom, god help me.”
For a stout woman with chronic back pain, Mrs. Schmidt-Wong moved like lightning, appearing at Zoe’s side in a parka three sizes too big—likely belonging to Zoe’s dad—with her blonde curls flying wild in the wind.
It was her turn to gasp. “Did you get mugged? Or was it a cat? You can’t trust cats. Even if you feed them every day their whole lives, they’ll eat your corpse without a second thought.”
“It was pine needles. Not a cat. No big deal. Christmas tree injury.” I tried to smile at Zoe’s mom. Torn between formal politeness and reverting to what I’d called her when Zoe and I were a couple, I stupidly said, “It’s nice to see you, Mrs….Janice. I was just driving by and…”
Come on. Think of something. Anything. Literally anything.
I had nothing. At least I stopped talking.
The wrinkles around Mrs. Schmidt-Wong’s eyes deepened as she gave me a playful smile. “You’re here to win Zoe back? Not that I have anything against Peter, but he’s not as cute as you.”
Zoe smacked her mother’s arm, the parka surely taking the brunt. “Mom. Peter is extremely cute. Well, he’s handsome. Distinguished.” She glanced at me. “No offense.” As a car approached with a rumble, she stood straight, then leaned back down to the window. “Shit, he’s home. For real, tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing. I was just…um, around, and I stopped to check a text. I didn’t even realize it was your house.” Considering I’d previously lived here for several years, it wasn’t particularly plausible. I leaned into it anyway. “Texting and driving kills.”
“That’s true,” Mrs. Schmidt-Wong said. “Mike was always very responsible.”
Zoe hissed, “Peter’s responsible! He’s a nurse!”
Mrs. Schmidt-Wong conceded, “True, true.” To me, she whispered, “He’s just a little boring if you ask me. No sparks.”
Ignoring her mother, arms wrapped around her middle, Zoe frowned at me. “Seriously, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “Had a sh—crappy day. Just driving around. It’s good to see you.” It was—we’d managed to stay kind-of friends after we’d broken up. Before I’d made the worst mistake of my life. Mistakes. Plural. “I’ve got to get—” I choked on the next word.
It wasn’t home. It had always been Jared’s townhouse, and as much as I’d tried, he didn’t want me. I suddenly didn’t have a home. Jesus, where was I going to live? My heart hammered. I’d been so preoccupied with my failed relationship that I hadn’t even considered the immediate issue.
“Are your parents okay?” Zoe asked, still frowning suspiciously.
“Absolutely! Living their best retirement dream.” Before she could ask, I added, “My brothers and their families are all great too.”
I’d been a surprise baby, a full fourteen years younger than my next oldest brother. My brothers were all miles ahead of me, and I’d thought I’d finally caught up somehow.
“Everything’s great!” I cleared my throat. “Merry Christmas!”
As I turned the key and the engine sputtered, Peter—who was definitely handsome if you asked me—joined the party at the window. Good thing this sleepy street didn’t get much traffic. I nodded to him, willing the damn engine to catch. It took a minute sometimes.
Zoe introduced me as I stepped hard on the gas, the engine making a sad whoa-whoa-whoa whine.
Peter exclaimed, “Oh, the bi guy, right? Hey, man. Great to meet you.” He stuck his hand through the open window.
We shook, and I let the engine rest a few seconds since I was about to flood it. “That’s me. Good to meet you too.”
Squeezing closer to Zoe, Peter apparently caught a better look at the Christmas tree wounds on my face. “You okay? Looks like you were bleeding.”
“It’s nothing!” The smile hurt my face. My laugh sounded manic.
“Are you coming in for dinner?” Zoe asked—a sort-of invitation that wasn’t overly enthusiastic. Completely understandable.
Mrs. Schmidt-Wong said, “There’s plenty! Yes, you must join us.”
I shook my head. “I can’t, but thank you.”
Aside from imposing on them and how awkward it would be, my jeans were soaked with red wine. I didn’t want to explain why I was such a mess. I turned the key again, willing my rust bucket to just do me this one more favor and get me out of this ridiculous situation I’d put myself in.
The cosmic engine gods were in a benevolent mood. The engine roared to life. More like sputtered, but I’d take it. I jammed down the button to raise the window. “Merry Christmas! Say hi to your dad and the rest of the family.”
They stepped back, and I waved as I escaped, turning at the corner and racing out of the neighborhood as fast as I could. I headed out of town, eventually ending up on a lonely two-lane highway in the darkness.
Night came so early this time of year. I’d imagined Jared and I would be decorating the tree with jazzy carols playing, sipping mulled wine and roasting chestnuts in the oven since the sleek, modern fireplace was electric.
In my pocket, my phone buzzed. I’d received at least ten texts since I’d run away from Jared, but I hadn’t looked at the screen. Maybe they were just spammers trying to trick me into giving them my bank account information or social security number. Maybe Jared wasn’t even worried about me.
I couldn’t stand to know.
Where was I even going? Where was I going to stay? I mentally ran through the possibilities of local friends. My closest friends from college aside from Zoe had recently had their first baby, so they were out.
Some people from high school were mutuals on social media, but we hadn’t spoken in years. I was only friendly with people at work—not friends.
And obviously, I couldn’t ask Will.
Ghosted.
Shit, was that what I’d done? I’d needed to take a step back from hanging with Will all the time. I’d needed to finally move on from my hopeless crush. All of our friends were getting engaged, and he’d started dating a girl he was crazy about. I couldn’t keep treading water.
But it wasn’t like we’d had a fight. We were still friends. I hadn’t ghosted him. I was waiting until I was sure I was over him to reconnect. Will was fine! He was too busy dating gorgeous women and traveling for work to think about me.
Of course he was. We were older now. This was the way life went. We didn’t have time to hang out the way we used to.
“Fuck,” I muttered. All my justifications aside, I’d had to stop torturing myself. There was only so long you could secretly love your best friend before self-preservation kicked in. I’d never have gotten over him if I still saw him all the time. And it’d worked! I was very much over him.
I slowed for a curve before accelerating. Everyone was busy with parties and holiday plans. The thought of showing up on anyone’s doorstep—let alone Will’s—was honestly mortifying after the encounter at Zoe’s house.
I’d find a hotel. I’d buy what I needed for the night and deal with returning to the townhouse for my stuff tomorrow. I needed to hole up and lick my wounds.
In silence but for the rough rumble of the engine, I followed the road even deeper into the snowy forest. The pavement was clear with snowbanks rising on either side.
Where even was I? It was time to turn around and find a place to crash. There were chain hotels and motels back in town, and I wasn’t picky.
Though there wasn’t much traffic, I didn’t want to pull a U-turn in the dark on a twisting road. Surely there’d be a driveway or another road soon. I kept going, my mind replaying everything Jared had said yet again.
He was right—I’d been in willful denial. I’d wanted so much for it to work. I’d thought it had all fallen into place with Jared. Granite countertops and a comfortable, functional relationship! Ticking all the grown-up boxes.
Even if it wasn’t perfect, I’d decided Jared was the one. Clearly, I was mistaken. If “the one” even existed. What if life was only a series of disappointments and failures, and I never—
I gripped the wheel as the distinct smell of smoke reached my nose. Before I could launch into a full-blown existential crisis, the cosmic engine gods announced they weren’t on my side after all.
