Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Who’s going to do the honors?” I say. “He’s my brother. It should be me.”
“I can take the brunt,” he replies, looking away.
“If you call him, you’ll make it all seem your fault and take all the blame.”
“We’ve already discussed this,” he says. “It’s better if he hates me. It’s better if he thinks I took advantage of you.”
“But you didn’t. I won’t lie to him. We’ve done enough of that already.”
Asher sighs. “Call him, then, Snowflake.”
I sit on the bed, press call, and try to stop the nerves from taking hold.
“Hello, Holly,” Dan says formally.
“Hey, Dan. I guess you’ve seen the video?”
“Who hasn’t?” He doesn’t sound as angry as yesterday, but he’s not exactly chipper. “It’s all over the place. Everybody is sending it to each other. You, of all people, know what marketing is like. You can do all the planning you want. Some things are just destined to take off.”
“We didn’t plan this.”
“I know. How could you? You didn’t know that kid was going to upload it.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper. “Dan, I’m so sorry.”
“Are you?” he asks. “Sorry, I mean? Sorry implies you wish you didn’t do it. Is that how you feel? Do you wish you hadn’t been with Asher? Is that how he feels? Wait, let’s not do this over the phone. I want to see both of you.”
I’m shocked, not sure whether to smile or be afraid. “You do?”
“Yeah. I have to. It’s the only way any of this will make sense. Come home.”
He hangs up before I can utter a word.
Asher looks at me impatiently. “What’s the damage?”
“He wants to see us both,” I say. “I’m not sure how he’s feeling. He seems less angry than yesterday. Or maybe he’s just hiding it better.”
“We better go,” Asher says. “We don’t want to keep him waiting, but Holly—”
I grab Asher’s shirt and pull him in for a kiss. “Don’t tell me you want to take the blame. We’ve already agreed.”
He sighs. “You’re too stubborn for me.”
“That’s why you love me.”
It just slips out—big mistake. He lets me go and turns away.
“I’m so—”
“No apologies,” he says. “You heard my speech yesterday. You heard what I said. I meant every word. But I can’t say a thing like that—or I shouldn’t have—if we don’t have a future.”
As Asher drives us home, I can’t resist rechecking the video. It’s just hit a million views. The comments are all glowing with women wishing Asher was talking about them, people discussing the romances they began and nurtured during Christmastime, and replies stacked on replies.
I think about what he said. He meant every word. He loves me.
What is this feeling if not love? It makes this more tragic.
Soon, we’re riding the elevator up to the apartment. The atmosphere is like we’re going to a funeral. That might not be too wide off the mark. The funeral is for our relationship.
“At least he didn’t change the locks,” I say, turning the key.
“Yet,” Asher mutters.
Dan is waiting for us in the hallway. He’s wearing his workout clothes, covered in sweat. He must’ve heard us coming in. “I’ll grab a shower. Make me a coffee, would you?”
He walks away. Asher and I exchange a look.
“Did he seem mad or numb?” Asher asks.
“I don’t know. Somewhere in between.”
In the kitchen, I make three coffees. Asher paces up and down, unable to keep his hands still. He’s usually so in control and composed. It’s weird seeing him like this. He fiddles with his phone.
“One million and one hundred thousand,” he says. “This is just rubbing it in. I should see if I can get it taken down. Dan doesn’t need this.”
“We both know when something’s on the internet, getting rid of it is borderline impossible, especially without copyright laws.”
“I wonder how many of these million views is Dan.”
“Try and sit down,” I say. “You’re making me nervous.”
“Sorry, Snow—He sighs. “Sorry.”
Dan walks in, his hair still wet. He looks at the kitchen island and then paces instead. He reminds me of his behavior during important, all-hands-on meetings, dominating the room. With Asher sitting beside me, the scene has the energy of two kids being called into the principal’s office.
We don’t speak, giving Dan the space to think. Finally, he stops pacing. “Asher, did you mean what you said in that video?”
“Dan, I …”
“Just answer the question.”
“I meant it,” Asher says. “I can’t lie about that. But just because I meant it, it doesn’t mean I’m going to put my feelings before you. I’ve been doing that for too long already. When I guessed Holly was my Secret Santa, that should’ve been the end of it. I slipped repeatedly.”
“But you meant it,” Dan says. “That speech you gave, the one currently being shared all over the world, the one that Mom and Dad have seen, the one that couples are sending to each other, the one that’s inspired a mind-boggling number of conversations about Christmas and love?”