Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
I normally would have been in Chicago, or my folks would have come here, but this was the one year they’d planned a trip to England for the holidays. Of course, I was previously fine with that, thinking that Channing would be here.
Somehow all of the lights in my place were off. So preoccupied, I’d missed sundown altogether, and this was the first instance I became conscious of sitting in the dark.
Walking over to the window, I admired the lights decorating the building across the street. People were rushing down the sidewalk, likely trying to get their last-minute shopping done or in a hurry to make it home to their family parties. My loneliness was starting to feel overwhelming.
When I returned to the couch, I decided to go on Instagram to see if Channing had posted anything. My heart nearly melted upon the sight of a photo of his mother. She had tinsel on her head and was smiling wide. It made me sad that I wasn’t there with them. Channing had edited the photo so that everything was in black and white except for the red tinsel. I knew he was really trying to cherish moments like that with Christine. It was simply beautiful.
After staring through Channing’s older photos for a while, I decided to go down the line of usual people I stalk on IG. One of them was Channing’s ex, Emily. She’d liked one of his posts once, so I kept a note of her profile, which was public. Stalking her was sweet torture.
Tonight, though, I almost wished I hadn’t gone to her page. The most recent post was of a huge Christmas tree that seemed to be in the middle of downtown. Except it wasn’t downtown Boston. It was downtown Chicago.
The caption read: Christmas in Chicago.
Chicago?
She was in Chicago? Her family lived in Massachusetts. Why would she be there if not to visit Channing? My heart was thundering in my chest.
I knew that given the circumstances, it was unfair of me to feel so angry about this, but I couldn’t help it. He was very likely feeling vulnerable right now, and she would be there to take advantage, to lick his wounds—among other things.
Sweat was permeating my body. Channing and I were supposed to talk over the phone at eight, but I didn’t feel I could wait to call him. I felt like I had to know whether she was there with him.
I picked up the phone, and my finger hovered over his name.
No.
No, Amber.
You have no right to push guilt on him. You’ll wait until eight.
The quiet was deafening over the next hour.
When the phone finally rang at eight sharp, I jumped to answer.
“Hello?”
His smooth, deep voice soothed me. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.”
I closed my eyes to cherish the sound. “Merry Christmas.”
“We just got back from church a little while ago. There was a café still open near there, so I took Mom out for hot chocolate, and now we’re back home chilling. I’m making duck with an orange sauce. It’s in the oven for an hour.”
“Of course. Turkey or chicken would be too boring.”
“Damn straight.”
After I let out a shaky breath, he could sense something was bothering me.
“What’s going on, Amber?”
“Is Emily there with you?” I blurted out, “Is she coming over for dinner?”
After some silence, he responded, “No. But she is in Chicago. You knew that?”
“Yes.”
“Are you stalking me, Walton?”
Unsure whether to fess up, I admitted, “I…check her Instagram from time to time. She posted that she was in Chicago.”
He let out a deep breath into the phone. “I honestly didn’t know she was coming here. You remember, she and I have mutual friends. That was how I met her…at their wedding. Shawn and Melanie. They live here. She says they invited her for Christmas.”
“So, you’ve been in touch with her, then. She knew you were back in Chicago?”
“I contacted her before I left Boston. I’d kind of left things a mess with her and felt I should at least have the decency to tell her I was headed home. But she came to see me here yesterday.”
“I see.” I massaged my temples. “What did she say?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.” I braced myself.
“She poured her heart out, basically, begged me to give her another chance, tried to fuck me, told me she wouldn’t even go back home to Boston if I asked her to stay right then and there.”
My blood pressure was rising. That was hard to hear—really hard to hear. I hadn’t felt this level of jealousy in my entire life.
When I didn’t say anything, he chimed in, “You asked, Amber. I’m just telling you the truth.” He sighed. “Nothing happened, okay?”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her the truth about you and that I was in limbo. I suggested that she move on from the idea of us because I couldn’t give her anything right now.”