Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Crossing my arms over my chest, I hunch my shoulders and keep walking, past groups of people camped out asleep on rows of chairs, teenagers illuminated by the glow of their phones, and an old woman petting her cats, soothing them to sleep inside their carrier.
I’m suddenly consumed with a longing for Hambone. If I could just scoop him up, bury my face in his soft, sweet-smelling fur, and feel his warm body vibrate against my chest as he purrs, things wouldn’t feel so awful.
Or they might, but at least I wouldn’t be alone with the awful.
Longing for my cat is followed quickly by a frozen bowling ball dropping into my stomach as I realize I never called Mom to tell her I wouldn’t be arriving tonight, after all. Stifling a groan, I head over to an isolated corner by a large window, where the air is even colder, and shoot my mom a text—So sorry, Mom, but I’m not going to make it home tonight, after all. I’m hoping to be booked on a flight into Bad Dog first thing tomorrow morning so we can still have presents at noon like always, but there’s no news on that yet. I’ll keep you updated. Have a wonderful Christmas Eve and know I’m with you in spirit. All my love, Dipsy.
Just a few seconds later, I get a text from someone else.
I click over to my main screen to see a new message from Dad and the icy lump in my stomach gets even heavier—Hey, pumpkin. Mom’s a little upset that you didn’t call to give us an update. We got the notification that your flight was cancelled a couple hours ago but we didn’t receive any word from you. I thought maybe your phone had died.
Sighing, I confess. No, it didn’t. I just totally forgot, Dad. I ended up with the wrong person’s suitcase and then ran into an old friend and then there was an alligator in the Chex Mix in the lounge. It’s been a crazy night.
He sends over a wide-eyed emoji. An alligator?
A baby alligator, but yeah, I reply. I’m so sorry. Truly.
You sound sad.
My lips twitch even as the backs of my eyes start to burn. How can you tell? You can’t hear me.
I can tell. I’m sorry we’re not together, Dips. But you’ll be here tomorrow, and we can do our hot chocolate party on the night after Christmas instead. Or on New Year’s. I like hot chocolate way better than champagne.
Me, too. I sniff, fighting another wave of tears. I love you, Dad.
I love you, too. Hang in there, baby. And don’t worry about Mom. I’ll smooth her feathers, and everything will be fine by the time you get home. You know how Mom is. She gets her feelings hurt easily, but she never holds a grudge.
Wrinkling my nose, I send him a heart and a thumbs-up and tuck my phone back into my purse.
He’s wrong, of course. My mother does hold a grudge. She’s been holding one for at least twenty-four years. Probably longer.
Who knows when the enormity of everything she’d given up for love hit her, but she’s definitely been keenly aware of it all the years of my life. And Dad knows that. It’s why he walks on eggshells around her when she’s in a mood and goes out of his way to spoil her on holidays and her birthday. He’ll be trying—and failing—to make up for tempting Mom away from her dreams for the rest of his life.
I swipe at my eyes and clench my jaw, more determined than ever to stay away from Bear. I can’t stand the thought of living out the same sad, depressing dynamic with him. I’d rather be alone. Forever.
And I just might be.
I can’t imagine falling this hard again. I’ve never ached for a man like this, never felt so at home with someone I’ve spent less than ten hours with in-person, and only messaged for a few months. But Bear’s such an easy person to get to know. He has nothing to hide and nothing to prove. He’s quietly, confidently himself, a trait as sexy as it is rare.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” a creaky voice says from a few feet behind me.
I turn to see the older woman with the cats creeping up behind me, her fingers tugging nervously at the bottom of her red sweater. I smile, hoping to put her at ease. “Hi there. Happy holidays.”
“Hello. Happy holidays to you, too.” She blinks and her lips twitch at the edges, but she still looks like she’s braced for a blow. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but do you think you could watch my kitties while I run to the bathroom? I don’t think I can carry my suitcase and their carrier all in there at once. There won’t be room in the stall, and I just got them calmed down and sleeping sound.”