“You knew what you signed up for when we started this. Why didn’t you tell me months ago instead of acting like everything was fine?”
She tossed back her blond hair, a gesture he’d once found sexy. Now, it grated on him, especially accompanied by her snide tone. “Because I’m not a jerk. I wanted to do this in person. After being together so long, I felt you deserved at least that.”
It made absolutely no sense. Why the hell would she care about dumping him in person if she didn’t think what they had was real?
“I thought we had something good here. That I’d come home and we’d finally be together.”
“We aren’t kids anymore, Nick. When we first started dating, you were hot. A good guy. I thought we could be end game, but distance didn’t make the heart grow fonder for me.” With the first spark of real emotion, she put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I like you, Nick. But life didn’t just stop for the rest of us. I’ve grown and changed and I want something different. I’ve moved on. You should too.”
Before he could even respond, she pointed to the box. “That’s your stuff. If I find anything else, I’ll give you a call. Whatever you find of mine, you can toss. If I haven’t missed it in eight years, I don’t need it now.”
The door closed with a snap once she’d disappeared inside. Numbness rushed through every body part, his legs heavy as he crossed the porch to examine the mementos of the only meaningful relationship he’d ever had.
Nick stood there for a moment, staring into the contents of the box. A few stuffed animals he’d given her. A T-shirt she’d borrowed and never returned. An Army ball cap he’d let her keep after the first time they made love. All piled haphazardly on one side of the box. On the other side she’d stacked dozens of CDs and thumb drives he’d sent her. Playlists he’d made to convey his feelings for her.
Nick rummaged through the rest and realized that she’d kept the diamond earrings he’d bought her last Christmas. Anything of value he’d ever given her was also missing, but he didn’t really care. Was there something more he could have done? He wracked his brain for any kind of sign this was coming, but nothing stuck. They’d fought, but he’d assumed the strain of the distance was the cause of it.
With one last glance at her door, he carried his box down the stairs to his dad’s old Tacoma and set it down hard on the front seat. The truck had been his before he went to basic and his dad bought it for the farm when Nick wanted to sell it. Now, the beat-up blue truck became his temporary ride again, a bitter reminder of his first night with Amber. They’d made love on the front seat and as he set the box down on the passenger side, a fog rolled over him.
The drive through town and back to his parents’ farm was a blur. Normally he’d check out the little shops on Main or the pines that lined the road as it twisted and turned, but his mind raced with the reality of his homecoming.
How could he have missed this? The last few weeks, everything had been coming up Nick. He’d landed an amazing job at Battlefield Gaming, creator of some of the best strategy apps out there. He’d been coding since he was nine and with his military background, they’d been eager to offer him a job. The best part? Besides a few times a year when he’d have to go to headquarters in Colorado, he could work from home. He could live near his family and friends in Mistletoe.
Although, at the moment, he wished he could escape his small town. Gossip spread faster than the high school kids drove and the last thing he wanted to see was a bunch of people whispering about poor Nick.
When he arrived home, he parked in front of the house and retrieved his box from the seat next to him. His parents hadn’t mentioned him helping out at the Christmas tree farm today, which was good. Nick wasn’t feeling particularly social, but he wouldn’t want to disappoint his mom and dad.
Nick stumbled inside the house with his box as though in a trance. Butch came skittering out from the back, but stopped in his tracks, sensing Nick’s mood. The hound trotted behind him down the hall, watching him from the doorway as Nick set his breakup box in the corner of his bedroom. The dog disappeared and Nick shut his door with a click.
He flopped across his bed and sent a snap to Noel and his childhood friends, Pike and Anthony. They were supposed to go out for drinks tonight. He took a picture of the breakup box and typed, Amber dumped me. Not feeling the bar. I’ll text you tomorrow.
The level doorknob flicked several times, as though someone was trying to open it. Finally, it popped open a crack and Nick lifted his head. His door swung wide and Butch stood in his doorway, whining with a stuffed Christmas tree in his mouth.