Twenty-eight days, I remind myself as I exit his office.Just twenty-eight days in Silverbell Hollow, and then I can come back to my perfectly controlled, completely professional life where the only thing I have to worry about is my boss’s schedule.
Through the glass, I can see Alexander standing exactly where I left him.He’s looking at me, and when our eyes meet, I hold his gaze for a few seconds.
Six years, and I know this man better than my own ex-boyfriend.I know everything about him—his tastes, his preference in clothes, in women.But I wonder whether he knows anything about me.
I turn away, my stomach in knots.I’m not going to go there.That’s one Pandora’s box that I shouldn’t touch.He’s my boss, and I should have as much interest in his looks as I should have in the shape of a stapler.
I turn my attention to my laptop, gearing up to send out the last emails of the day before I disappear into the Blue Ridge Mountains for the next month.
Outside the window, the snow keeps falling.
* * *
The flight is long,especially when you don’t want to be on it.
I shift in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position in economy—because even though I work for a billionaire, I’m not actually one myself.The woman next to me is snoring softly, her head tilted at an angle that’s going to give her a crick in her neck, and the kid behind me has been kicking my seat for the past hour like he’s training for the Rockettes.
I pull out my phone, more for something to do with my hands than anything else, and my thumb brushes against the keychain attached to it.It’s worn now, the leather cracked at the edges, the metal clasp tarnished.Chase made it for me in high school.Sophomore year, I think.Back when we were still figuring out what we were to each other.
We grew up next door to each other.Literally.Our backyards shared a fence, and there was a gap in the slats where we used to pass notes back and forth when we were kids.By middle school, everyone in Silverbell Hollow just assumed we’d end up together.The Hartley girl and the Ashford boy.It was practically written in the town charter.
And we did get together.Middle school, high school, all the way through.We were inseparable.Best friends.He was my first everything—first kiss, first boyfriend, first love.First heartbreak, too, though I didn’t know it at the time.
The only real fight we ever had—the big one, the kind that makes you wonder if you’re going to survive it—was when I took this job.Alexander’s job.Chase hadn’t wanted me to go.Said New York would change me, that I’d forget where I came from, that I’d forget him.
I told him I wouldn’t.Promised him, actually, standing in his parents’ driveway with tears streaming down my face.We’d make it work.Long distance wasn’t ideal, but it was doable.People did it all the time.
For five years, we did made it work.Weekend visits when I could afford the flights.Phone calls every night.Texts throughout the day.I thought we were fine.
I was wrong.
I shove the keychain and phone back into my pocket and close my eyes, willing myself to sleep for the rest of the flight.
By the time I land in Charlotte, my neck hurts, my back hurts, and I’m pretty sure I’ve developed a permanent indent in my left shoulder from where the upright armrest dug into me for two and a half hours.The airport is decorated for Christmas—garland wrapped around every column, oversized ornaments dangling from the ceiling, and a massive tree near baggage claim that’s at least twenty feet tall.There’s a Santa’s Workshop display near the food court where kids are lined up to take pictures, and every gate seems to be playing a different version of “Jingle Bells.”It’s only December 7th, but the airport is fully committed to the holiday spirit.
I’m not.
I have a three-hour layover before my connecting flight to Asheville, which means I have three hours to kill in an airport that smells like Cinnabon and desperation.I head toward the nearest coffee shop, needing something stronger than the watered-down garbage they served on the plane.A woman brushes past me wearing reindeer antlers, and I have to sidestep a group of carolers who’ve set up shop near the News2You.
The line at the coffee shop is long—because of course it is—and I’m standing there, mentally rehearsing my order like I’m preparing for a board meeting, when my phone pings.I pull it out, expecting an email from Christina or maybe a passive-aggressive text from Alexander about something he suddenly needs right this second.Instead, it’s Sophie.
Sophie: ‘btw amber and chase are getting engaged over christmas’
I go still.
The woman in front of me moves forward in line, and I don’t.Someone behind me clears their throat, annoyed, but I can’t move.Can’t think.Can’t breathe.
Sophie:‘mom just told me.thought you should know before you get home’
Sophie:‘sorry livie’
I stare at the screen, reading the words over and over like they’ll somehow rearrange themselves into something that makes sense.
Amber and Chase.
Engaged.
My fingers are numb.My chest feels tight.I finally force myself to step forward in line, to keep moving, because if I stop I’m going to lose it right here in the middle of an airport, and that’s not happening.
