I shrugged on a coat.
He looked like he was in so much pain.
I reached out to rest a hand on his arm. “Sometimes things happen not for a reason. They just happen.”
“I don’t need philosophy from someone who can’t run her own life,” he said coldly. Once I was all packed, he escorted me out the door.
“And Merrie?” he said before he shut it. “Don’t sleep in your shop tonight. I will be checking.”
My phone dinged. Matt had marked the job as complete, and I had just received payment.
“Score. I guess.”
Matt had been furious.
“If I got cheated on right before my Christmas wedding, I’d probably be in a bad mood too.”
You can’t worry about him. You have bigger problems. You don’t have anywhere to stay tonight.
It was snowing pretty hard, and the wind was whistling. I didn’t think the nativity was going to cut it.
I checked the TradeMe app. Surely someone needed Christmas cookies baked in exchange for a couch to sleep on?
Job posting:Decorating in exchange for a place to lay your head in a cozy backyard tiny house.
“It’s a Christmas miracle!”
31
Matt
Iwaited for Merrie’s car to drive away before I left the Wynter Estate. I would hire someone to come by to take the presents over to the Svenssons. I didn’t want to be in that house a minute longer.
I doused the fire with snow from outside.
The house and Merrie had brought back such terrible memories.
How could I have been so stupid?
And then Merrie had wanted to buy firewood from Brody, of all fucking people. He was so clearly flirting with her too.
I resisted the urge to punch a hole in the plaster wall.
What did I care if Brody was flirting with Merrie? It would serve Hensley right if her boy toy dumped her to the curb.
“I just need to get out of this house,” I told myself as I gathered up the rest of Merrie’s food, including the entire fucking cake and bottle of milk she had brought, and took the whole lot to my car.
You’ll feel better once you’re at your condo.
Except that I didn’t. Somehow the condo felt colder and lonelier than the estate house. Merrie had filled this historic home with the warmth and life I had always envisioned.
They were false dreams.
Kringle snored from his spot on the living-room rug.
“All you’ve done all day is eat and sleep,” I told the dog as I changed into my exercise pants. I didn’t even bother with a shirt. After sitting in front of the fire and all the bad memories, I needed the numbing cold.
I avoided Main Street, instead running through the neighborhoods. It was late at night, and a smattering of couples were out looking at the Christmas lights. I raced past them, Kringle lumbering behind me. I peered through the blowing snow. Ahead of me were Hensley and Brody.
