“It’s just that I don’t want to talk about Sarah on Christmas. I never thought I would ever get to spend Christmas with you again and… I know we're never going to be married or be a couple again but… I still care for you… and you're still a part of my life and… I can't think of anybody else I want to spend Christmas with.”
“Interesting. Even though you're not getting sex out of it,” she muses, narrowing her eyes.
“Even if I'm not getting any sex out of it. Although the sex I did have with you was… damn,” I say, shaking my head, trying not to crash.
“Would you stop that,” she laughs.
It’s good seeing her in a good mood.
-??-
Chapter 15
The Waterfront Holiday Market is crowded, warm, and bright despite the cold. I don’t know what I expected, but this… this feels good. Better than I thought Christmas could feel again. There was an earlier sadness today, there always is, but right now I’m having the best Christmas I’ve had in a long time.
We walk through the rows of stalls, trying foods from different vendors like we always used to. A walking buffet. She takes pictures of the lights, of the food, of me, and she laughs. God, she laughs. And everything feels right with the world for a second. Like nothing ever went wrong.
We get trays and walk with them, stopping at a small square table barely two feet in length and width. I sit on one end facing her. My plate has roasted chicken pieces, garlic noodles, a pork bun split open and stuffed with greens, and some fried dumplings. Hers is filled with empanadas, plantains, shredded beef over rice, and a mango pastry she insisted on because it “looked cute.”
She picks up one empanada, takes a bite, and her eyes widen.
“It tastes like heaven,” she says, shaking her head. “Here.” She scoops some onto my plate.
I hand her a piece of my noodle bowl in return. “Try this.”
She chews slowly, eyes narrowing. “Okay… okay, that’s unfair. That’s ridiculous.”
Her face is so pretty right now. Her hair is in four big braids, thick and shiny, framing her face. She looks beautiful. Happy. Carefree. And it hits me. She’s probably happy and free now because she’s no longer married to me.
I made myself believe she was the problem. That she wasn’t being supportive. Sarah fed that idea too, or at least I thought she did. But the truth? I was the one sucking the life out of the relationship. I hadn’t made my wife laugh in years.
That one dinner party, the one where I was cold, defensive, awful to her, feels like it just happened. The one where I basically neglected her the entire night because I was tangled up in Sarah’s presence. I didn't even want Gabrielle there. That’s exactly what it was. But I didn't want to admit it then, because admitting it would mean everything was my fault.
All the nights I came home late. Sure, I was exhausted, but I still chose to ignore her. Chose to text Sarah. To think about Sarah. To stay at work longer just to be next to Sarah.
And for all the years I didn’t see Gabrielle, I've been haunted by the look on her face, that wounded, betrayed look, even when she reached out, trying to fix things.
The truth is I don’t deserve another chance. I already had so many. So damn many. So many nights, so many phone calls, so many conversations… and every time, it was Gabrielle reachingout, trying to pull me back from the dark side I kept choosing. Even when she suspected something, she still kept trying.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her smile faltering.
I swallow hard. There’s a lump in my throat that isn’t food. Never again do I want to make her cry. The truth is my heart is hurting so bad right now. I miss her. I miss this. She was my best friend, and I lost sight of that. I feel sick, but damn it, I want to keep her happy. Keep her smiling. Even though I’m convinced she hates me. But I don’t want to lie to her either.
“I’m just sorry that I… I miss this. I miss us hanging out like this on Christmas.” The smile I force feels painful.
Gabby gives me a soft smile.
“I kind of do too.”
That alone feels like a breath I’ve needed for years.
We break into more easy conversation as the time flows by.
When we’re done eating, we head out to go to her little spot by the ocean and walk out to the jetty. We bought a gigantic platter of rice and pork bits, some cookies, fruit, pastries, and Snapper fries from the market.
We sit down and immediately start laughing when the seagulls swarm us, landing on our shoulders, heads, backs. It’s chaos.
“God damn what the hell is the matter with you guys,” Gabby laughs, trying to wrestle the platter open.
