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My phone buzzes,a group text lighting up the screen. I glance at it, feeling that familiar tightness in my chest. The holidays are coming, and without Avery... No, focus on the now.
Roman
So what's the plan for Christmas this year, fellas?
I sigh, not feeling very festive. Before I can respond, Lawrence chimes in.
Lawrence
Don't think I can make it. Gotta travel for work.
Roman
Seriously, man? Work during the holidays? Use Victor's PR company and do some damagecontrol!
I roll my eyes. Typical Roman, always ready with a quip.
Sebastian
I don't think coaching a pee wee hockey league is going to sway West Virginia's opinion on a gas pipeline through their farms.
Leave it to Sebastian to be the voice of reason. His serious nature shines through even in text.
Roman
Worth a shot though, right?
Lawrence
Pipeline is dead, remember guys? But, got a lot to do to with Willow on her alternative energy projects. Could mean a lot for the shipping industry.
The chat goes silent for a beat. I stare at the screen, waiting. Then shake off the silence and type back.
My stomach clenches. The thought of Christmas, once filled with hope, now feels like a punch to the gut. I glance at my phone, scrolling through a week's worth of unanswered messages to Avery.
"Hey, want to grab coffee?"
"Olivia mentioned a Christmas play. When is it?"
"Can we talk?"
Each one met with silence. The ice I'd felt melting around my heart starts to refreeze.
I think back to last week, picturing Avery's smile as we discussed holiday plans. How her eyes lit up when she suggested spending Christmastogether over Thanksgiving. Olivia's excited chatter about decorating cookies and watching cheesy movies. It felt... right. Like I was finally part of something.
Now? Nothing but silence and the familiar ache of disappointment.
My fingers type out a response, hesitate, delete. I can't bring myself to tell the guys the truth. That once again, I'll be alone for the holidays. That I let myself hope, only to have it snatched away.
The cursor blinks, waiting for my reply. I take a deep breath, steeling myself to craft another lie, another wall to keep everyone at bay.
I type quickly, not giving myself time to second-guess:
Victor
Sorry guys, I'm swamped with the development. Can't host this year. Looks like early next year or New Year's Eve then.
The lie tastes bitter, but it's easier than admitting the truth.