The Christmas Orphans Club(86)
“You’re leaving, so what does it even matter?”
“I’m not leaving you, I’m just going to LA. You could come with me. Or you could visit.”
He makes a dismissive sound.
“You don’t have a job. Your father owns a goddamn airline. This is a minor inconvenience, at most. This is not a dealbreaker and I won’t pretend otherwise. Tell me, do you or do you not have feelings for me?” I’m playing a dangerous game. I will get my answer tonight.
“I . . .” The word hangs in the air between us for an unbearably long time before Theo takes a breath and finishes, “I don’t.”
He reaches for my hand on the table between us, and I whip it away like I’ve been burned.
“Oh,” I say.
He wasn’t scared to admit he had feelings for me. He was trying not to hurt mine by telling me he didn’t. Bile rises in the back of my throat while tears prickle behind my eyes. I feel like a leaky water balloon threatening to burst.
The kid behind the counter hovers by the register with my sandwich on a paper plate waiting for the right time to bring it over. I can’t pretend he didn’t hear every word, it’s pin-drop-silent in here and we weren’t keeping our voices down. I’m as confused as he is about what to do next.
“Now I know,” I say, treading water in our conversation.
My tears threaten to spill over at any second, and I don’t want Theo to see me cry. “You know what?” I forge ahead before he can guess, “I should probably go check on Hannah. I didn’t charge my phone like I said I would, and I don’t want her to worry.” I pop out of my chair, pull my wallet from my front pocket, and throw down all the cash I have—three singles. It’s not enough, but now isn’t the time to worry about fair with Theo. Life isn’t fair. If it was, he’d love me back.
“Finn,” he says, “this doesn’t have to change anything.”
Is he really dumb enough to think that? This changes everything.
As I leg it for the door, the kid holds up the plate with my sandwich and shouts, “Do you want this to go?”
I can’t answer because of course I don’t want it, but if I tell him my voice will wobble and I will not let myself cry until I’m out of Theo’s sight line.
I push through the door and power walk past the front window of the cafe. Theo gets up from his chair and for a second I wonder if he’s about to come after me. Instead, he stands stock-still and stares at me through the window with an anguished look on his face. Like he knows he ruined us.
And he has.
I hustle past, snow flurries sticking to my eyelashes, and the minute I’m out of sight, the tears come.
twenty-five
Hannah
This year, December 26
I’ve always thought the hallway of our apartment building looks like a hotel, not a home. When I get to our door, I pat my pockets for my keys. Nothing.
I wedge my phone between my chin and chest and turn the pockets inside out looking for the keys, and when I don’t find them, a hole in the pocket’s seam. Oh god, what if they’re lodged somewhere in the gown’s many layers of lining? But my search turns up neither keys nor holes. They must have fallen out in the truck or maybe I left them at the hospital with my regular clothes.
The most pessimistic corner of my brain wonders if I’ll need them after tonight. David would keep the apartment if we broke up. I can’t afford my share of rent as it is.
I knock lightly on the apartment door.
What if David isn’t here? What if he got a hotel room or is sleeping off his anger on his brother’s couch? I’m about to head back to the lobby to get the spare from the front desk when David opens the door. He’s wearing his chinos from this morning and an untucked white undershirt. He looks wide awake despite the hour. His hair stands on end like he’s been raking his hands through it over and over.
Instinct takes over and I launch myself at him, wrapping him in a suffocating hug. I cling to him like if I can physically hold on to him, he can’t leave me. Even if he broke up with me, he’d have to carry me around like a barnacle, stuck to him for the rest of his days. I sag with relief when he hugs me back and presses a series of quick kisses into my hairline.
“Where have you been?” he asks. “I was so worried. You called me fifteen times, didn’t leave a message, and then wouldn’t pick up your phone. I thought there had been some kind of emergency.”
“My phone is dead.” I let go of him and hold up my phone to prove the veracity of my statement.
“Are you okay?” His voice is thick with concern.
“I’m fine. Everyone’s fine,” I answer, before remembering that’s not strictly true. “Actually, Priya’s in the hospital—”
“Oh my god! What happened?”
“She fell ice-skating. Broken leg, but she’ll be alright.”
“Is that where you were?”
“I was in Connecticut.”
“Connecticut? Why were you there? I’ve been back since seven thirty. I didn’t see your calls because I fell asleep on the couch.” I suppress the urge to laugh. David was here all this time. He got home before we even left the hospital. Tonight was all a wild goose chase.