Chris tossed the rag he’d been wiping his hands on down onto the floor and stared at me.
“That’s why you hate Christmas,” I stated, everything starting to make sense. Why he didn’t have a tree. Why he retreated into his apartment like the Grinch staying away from everyone and everything that reminded him of that moment.
“I don’t hate Christmas …”
“Come on, Chris …”
“I don't. Not really. But I do hate this fucking sleigh. If I could set fire to it …” he drifted off and walked over to a toolbox, pulling out something I didn’t recognize.
“Well, she’s an idiot,” I declared. I hadn’t known Chris for a long time, but I didn't need to. Not to know he was a good guy. He’d shown me that from the moment I met him. “But I think she did you a favor.”
“What?” Now it was Chris’s turn to be shocked.
“I really do. I think she did you a favor. If she was going to cheat, I’m glad she did it before you slid that ring on her finger and called her your wife. That ring changes everything. So instead of hating her for it, maybe be thankful you dodged that bullet.”
“That's … different,” Chris replied as he mulled over my words.
There was a lump in my throat. There was a question on the tip of my tongue that I was dying to ask, but I wasn’t sure how he’d take it. Or what his answer would be. Or worse still, how much his answer would hurt me.
“Umm …” I fidgeted with my fingers, looking everywhere but at the man in front of me.
“What is it?”
“It’s … it’s nothing,” I dodged, chickening out. It would drive me crazy not knowing, but that was better than the alternative.
“Nuh-uh. I know that face. There’s something you’re dying to say, so come on. Spit it out.”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
As I took a step back, Chris set down whatever weird contraption he was holding and came to stand right in front of me. When he took my hands in his, I shivered. I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to go there. But when he lifted my chin with his fingers and locked his eyes with mine, I froze like a deer caught in the headlights. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Holly …”
“Chris …”
“Ask me what it is you want to ask me.” His words were a direct command, but I didn’t feel like I was being pushed. Or maybe I did, and I just liked it from him.
“Do you still … do you still …” I couldn't get it out.
“Do I still what?”
I squeezed my eyes closed and willed the strength to rip off the band-aid. “Doyoustillloveher?” I blurted out in a hurry.
“Do I still love her?” Chris repeated slowly, and I nodded, embarrassed.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s none of my business. Pleaseforget I even asked.” I tried to move away, but Chris’s grip on my hand tightened.
“No, Holly. I don’t love her anymore, and looking back, I’m not sure I ever really did. Not properly anyway.”
“Oh.”
“Shayna and I, we never made sense. I can see it now. At the time I thought she was it for me, but now, now things are … clearer.”
“Clearer how?”
“We had fun together, and I would’ve married her, and I would’ve done my damndest to make it work, but there was always something missing. It’s probably what drove her into the arms of someone else. She just … she just … worked it out before I did.”
“What was missing?”
