“Annie, I’m sorry. It’s over. It’s not just about no longer wanting us.” Zachary fastened his loveless eyes to mine, his voice strong with a certainty that delivered a sickening blow to my heart. “I want someone who gives me her whole heart. I want a different life.”
Chapter Two
“I want a different life…”
Zachary’s parting words echoed in my head like a lost yell over a canyon. In five words, he’d destroyed the trajectory of my life.
I’d spent the last twenty-four hours curled into a ball, snot-crying into my pillow while obsessively texting and calling my now-ex-boyfriend, desperate to utter the magic words that would change his mind.
At first, Zachary had sent a few short but kind texts, instructing me to accept his decision. Then when my one hundredth text somehow gave him the impression I wouldn’t soon be arriving at the acceptance stage, he got rude and snippy before finally blocking my number.
“I’m so sorry, Annie,” my friend Emma Kincaid said Thursday evening as our trio stood outside the Frisco station where we’d soon board the train for a few hours volunteering for a children’s holiday event. The remains of yesterday’s small bout of snow and ice covered the trees and grassy areas.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Cordelia Sinclair, my other BFF asked, shooting Emma a look of concern. “We can manage without you if you’d rather be home.”
Tonight was the annual Christmas children’s train event, held every year at the end of November. The Frisco Holiday Express chugged through town and paused at the Sugar Creek Depot for the evening. Local, underprivileged children boarded in ninety-minute shifts, where they were greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Claus and plied with hot cocoa and warm cookies. After a quick train ride, the kids sang Christmas carols and played games before departing for the evening, each carrying new gloves, stocking hats, and a warm coat. Cordelia was now the organizer, having inherited it from Mrs. Valentine, the retired librarian who’d happily hosted the event for thirty years before moving to Tahiti.
I rubbed the ache over my heart and wondered if Mrs. Valentine had a good book and a spare cabana on her island for me. “I promised I’d help.” My voice sounded weak, as if I could barely speak over the gusty December wind and crushing sadness. Retying the scarf at my neck, I attempted a smile knowing I needed to pull myself together before the kids arrived. “I’ll try not to scare any small children.”
Emma rested a hand on her pregnant belly as her eyes roamed over my hair. “I have a brush in my purse if you need it.”
“Do I need it?” My tone was crisp as the cold oak tree branches swaying above us.
“No, no. Not at all.” Emma gave me a quick hug, her fifth since I’d arrived at the depot. “You look great. Fabulous.”
“She looks angry,” Cordelia said, ever the blunt one. “Like she wants to strangle an elf.”
Tears sprang to my eyes and burned. “Just show me to the train car with the cocoa and put me to work. Surely I can pass out drinks without ruining the event.”
Now it was Cordelia who curved an arm around my shoulders. “We never liked that guy.”
I frowned as we walked toward the train, the moon a bright sliver in the inky sky. “You’re just saying that because Zachary broke up with me.”
“No, she’s saying that because we never liked him.” Emma waved at her grandmother across the road who was also a faithful volunteer. “He was a stuffed shirt with zero personality who didn’t appreciate what he had.”
“Yeah.” Her shoes crunching on the salted pavement, Cordelia approached the metal ramp and boarded the train. “You two had zero zing.”
“We had plenty of zing.” But even I couldn’t say that with much conviction. “Zachary’s on the fast track with his career, he’s handsome, and he’s from a prestigious family.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “In other words, he’s someone your mother would pick.”
Tears thickened my throat. “Maybe I’ve already missed my chance at true love.”
“Not this again.” Emma rolled her eyes. “Here we go…”
“Wyatt Thomas was perfect. And I let him get away. Why can’t I appreciate a good thing when I have it? Why do I pick jerks and guys who cheat? What if my only shot at true love came in college, and I stupidly rejected it?”
“Your college boyfriend was just that—a college romance.” Emma stood in the first passenger car, ducking her head to avoid the red garland. “You’ve romanticized that relationship in your head, and just like your hold on Zachary, you need to let it go. Wyatt Thomas is so not your type. You were right to cut him loose all those years ago.”
“He was completely my type.”
Cordelia slipped off her coat and hung it over a chair. “You need a man who takes your breath away and loves you fiercely. One who appreciates what an amazing woman you are.” She sighed, no doubt thinking of her own husband who she’d married only last summer.
“Someone who challenges you,” Emma added with an impish grin. “A guy who pushes your buttons in all the best ways.” She was happily married to the Sugar Creek mayor, and the two were expecting a baby in two months. “Before I started dating Noah, we’d get into these huge arguments, and I wanted to knock him over the head as much as I wanted to kiss him senseless.”
“That sounds like drama.” I was so tired. All I wanted was to return home, slip into my pajamas, and dive beneath the shelter of my flannel sheets. Forever. Like hibernate from the world the entire winter. “Give me a nice, calm relationship any day. I’m not the least bit interested in rehabbing an old enemy into Mr. Right.” My bottom lip quivered, and I held it in place with my teeth.
“Are you sure you’re up for this tonight?” Cordelia asked. “It’s okay if you need to sit this year out.”
“I’m fine.” I sniffed indelicately. “I can pull it together—for the children.”
My best friends looked doubtful.
“Let Zachary the Cheater have his gym floozie,” Emma said. “You’re too good for him.”
“Totally,” Cordelia agreed with a resolute nod of her brown head. “Now let’s go give these kids the best Christmas party ever.”
I could do this. I could hold it together for three hours, stick on a fake smile, and force some holiday cheer. Children were depending on us, and I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s night. But regret and sorrow still burrowed into my chest, a pulsing heartburn fueled by my own poor life choices.
Once, I’d had the perfect man in my life. If only I could go back with what I knew now and do it all over again.
Was that too much to ask for Christmas? Could Santa wrap up one big fat do-over so I could say yes to that college proposal that I’d stupidly turned down, thus releasing a curse on the rest of my life?
But what if that chance had already come and gone?
Chapter Three
It was as if someone had stuck a syringe in my veins and extracted every bit of Christmas spirit.