“Just go with it,” my mom whispers in my ear as she hugs me goodbye.“It’ll be over before we know it.”
By the time they leave my apartment, I sag down against the door onto my butt and stay there...until hunger growls from my stomach.I search in Charlotte’s pocket and find a bar of chocolate, which I mindlessly eat.I also have cupcakes in the fridge to help me through this.
But what have I done?Fully panicked, I call my best friend in the whole wide world and spew everything out in one go.
“Wait, so you got all that out of a romance novel?”Lily Blake asks, laughter in her voice.
“Yes,” I cry, pacing the floor.“There’s no other way.I’m going to have to come down with some insanely contagious disease.Suggestions?”
“No, you’re going.If only to make Ines green with envy that her cousin bagged three whole billionaires and she did not.Seriously though, you can’t disappoint Mom and Dad and not show up.You know how special the holidays are to them.”Lily calls my parents Mom and Dad, and I do the same with hers.She’s right, though.I can’t do that to my parents.
“It’ll be fine.It’ll be fun.Milk the situation for all it’s worth.No one will be able to prove otherwise, especially if you said you’re keeping it on the down-low.You get to be the future Mrs.Hollister-Winslow-Carver for a couple of days.It’ll be okay, babe.”
I blow out my breath and calm myself down.
“You’re right.”
“Always.See you tonight.Love ya.”
“Love you too.”
I’m having dinner with Lily, a fashion designer herself, tonight, where we’ll exchange our gifts before we both head to our families for Christmas.We’re not even going to be that far from each other.Lily’s parents own a ranch just forty minutes from where I’ll be spending Christmas with my family.
If I wanted time to drag, I’m granted no such reprieve.The next few days go by in a hurry.And I can’t procrastinate any longer.I pack my usual staples of clothes: jeans, hoodies, and a reasonably nice dress for Christmas Day—vintage drab, mind you.
And for the glitzy dinner, I’ll be wearing a pair of black slacks and a pink sweater that I got from a thrift store since I’ll be eating with the kids.
I then count the number of gift-wrapped boxes one last time to make sure I haven’t forgotten anyone, then pack them up into another suitcase.
And so, it begins.Just let me get through this, and I promise I will never ask for anything ever again...until next year?A sneaky voice in my head asks.No.Next year, I’m eloping with myself for the holidays.I don’t care where, as long as it’s as far away from here as possible.
I’m almost out the door when I remember my ring.Can’t go to the family holiday gathering without my fake ring for the three billionaires I’m currently but also falsely engaged to.
Struggling with my luggage, I manage to turn off the lights and lock my door.Of course, my cab hasn’t arrived yet, so I freeze in the harsh New York winter air.
After a cab ride, a bus ride, then another cab ride, I finally arrive, lugging my heavy bags with me as I stand in a puddle of melted snow, wondering if I should just run after the cab and pay him double to take me back home.
Since I can’t do that, I face the embodiment of my inner shame.Crystal Cry Ranch is a huge eight-bedroom house on a plush resort in the country.
Every year, my family chips in to rent the house for the holidays.And every year seems to bring some drama with it for me.
I sprained my ankle one year when I was twelve and had to hobble about everywhere.Ines insisted on putting an eyepatch on my face and called me Captain Clumsy of the pirate ship Klutz.
Another year, I had the flu.I was as sick as a dog, and since no one else wanted to get sick, I was quarantined to my designated bedroom.Still another year, I had chickenpox and basically ruined everyone’s holidays since my parents couldn’t make it, and everyone decided it wouldn’t be the same without them, so they canceled the holidays.
There are other horror stories I’ve endured in this place, being me.Thrown off the gentlest mare in the universe, nearly set the place on fire with a candle.But this year...this year pales in comparison to every other year ever.
This year, I invented not one, not two, but three fiancés as if there were a marriage market sale and it was a buy one, get two free bargain.
I groan with such defeat that my boots sink deeper into the wet white earth.Oh, how I outdid myself.
Awkwardly, I cross my fingers and enter the house.Here goes absolutely nothing.
God, help me get through this.
