Page 18
Chapter eighteen
Jessica
T he house feels colder without Eric here. Not physically, of course—the thermostat’s still humming along—but emotionally, the place feels empty. His absence is palpable, like he’s taken all the warmth with him when he left for Vegas. I’m standing in the kitchen, absently mixing a bowl of cookie dough, and all I can think about is what Eric says to me about Linda: “I’ll go find my mom on my own, without you.”
It wasn’t an accusation or even cruel, but the words stung. He didn’t need me. Despite everything we’d been through—living under the same roof, faking a relationship, and even the moments when I thought there was something real between us—he made it clear that he could do this alone. I suppose I should be used to people pushing me away by now. Eric isn’t the first, and he probably won’t be the last.
I sigh and wipe my hands on a towel, trying to focus on the task in front of me. Kathy and Laura will be here soon, and I can’t afford to spiral into a pit of self-pity. Not today. Today is supposed to be about friendship, about the holidays, about spending time with the people who matter.
I roll out the dough and use cookie cutters shaped like snowflakes, gingerbread men, and stars, hoping the repetitive action will distract me. It doesn’t. My mind keeps wandering back to Eric. The way his jaw clenched when we argued. The way his eyes softened when he thought I wasn’t looking. I can still hear his voice in my head, low and husky, as he apologized last night. He didn’t even fight when I cut him off, when I told him that helping him find his mother wasn’t my business. But it was a lie, the whole “not my business” part. I wanted it to be my business. I wanted to be part of something that mattered to him.
The front door opens, and I shake off the thought. I glance at the clock—Laura and Kathy are right on time.
“Jessica! We’re here!” Laura’s voice echoes through the house, warm and familiar.
I quickly put the cookie sheet in the oven, wipe flour from my hands, and head to the hallway. “In the kitchen!” I call out.
Laura and Kathy stroll in moments later, both of them dressed in cozy winter attire. Laura looks glowing, her cheeks pink from the cold outside, her eyes bright. Kathy, her mother, is effortlessly chic in a long wool coat and scarf that makes her look like she just stepped off a plane from Europe—which, technically, she did. Italy, to be exact. The woman is always traveling.
“Look at you, already baking!” Kathy exclaims, a wide smile spreading across her face as she pulls me into a quick hug. “I swear, you’re more domestic than I am these days.”
I laugh lightly, the sound strained, though I try to cover it up. “Just getting into the holiday spirit.”
Laura hugs me next, her warmth grounding me for a moment. “This place smells amazing ,” she says, her eyes lighting up when she spots the hot chocolate station I’ve set up on the counter. “And is that real whipped cream I see?”
I nod, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. “Nothing but the best for you two.”
We all settle around the kitchen island, the air thick with the smells of baking cookies and the chocolaty sweetness of the drinks. For a while, we catch up. Laura tells us about her latest shift at the hospital, how being a nurse is a rollercoaster ride of emotions, especially around the holidays, when patients seem to either bring out the best or worst in themselves. Kathy talks about Italy, sharing stories of art museums and pasta so fresh it practically melted in her mouth. She’s been busy traveling since her divorce from Bill, trying to find herself again, I guess. In a weird way, I admire her for that—though I don’t know if I could ever hop from place to place like she does. I need roots, some sense of stability. Something I don’t have right now.
A knock on the door interrupts our conversation, and I quickly excuse myself to answer it.
The Christmas tree delivery.
When I open the door, two men are standing there, a massive tree between them, bound tightly with twine. It’s bigger than I expected, its pine scent already filling the air. I give them directions to the living room, where they carefully set the tree in the corner by the large window. Once they leave, I return to the kitchen to find Laura and Kathy peeking into the oven.
“Those cookies are looking good!” Laura says with a grin, before glancing at the tree. “Wow, that’s a huge tree.”
“Yeah, Bill went all out this year,” I say, trying to sound casual. But the truth is, I can’t help but feel like it’s our tree—mine and Eric’s—because we’ve been sharing this house together. Decorating it without him feels… wrong.
“Let’s get to decorating!” Kathy says, clapping her hands together. “It’ll be fun.”
The three of us move to the living room, where boxes of ornaments are waiting. Kathy hums Christmas tunes while she pulls out delicate glass ornaments, Laura adds garlands, and I arrange a few strings of twinkling lights. The room starts to transform into something that resembles Christmas magic. I should be happy, but a weight presses down on my chest, making it hard to fully enjoy the moment.
After we’ve strung the lights and hung half the ornaments, Laura glances at me, her expression shifting to something more serious. She’s my best friend. She knows when something’s up.
“So…” she begins, her voice light but probing. “You’re really quiet today, Jess. Everything okay?”
I knew this was coming. Laura always sees through me. I open my mouth, about to deflect with some lame excuse, but before I can, she interrupts me.
“I mean, I know something’s up.” Her eyes lock on mine. “But, uh, before we get into that, I’ve got some news of my own.”
I raise an eyebrow, curious now. “Oh?”
She grins, glancing at Kathy, who looks just as confused as I feel. “I was going to wait until later, but… well, I can’t hold it in any longer.” She reaches into her purse, pulls out a little velvet box, and then slips a huge glittering diamond ring on her finger like it’s hers. I blink. Is it hers? Is she…? Laura holds up her left hand, and there it is in all its glory. A sparkling diamond engagement ring that catches the light, shimmering like it’s showing off.
I freeze, my heart doing an odd little flip. Is this real? Engaged? I gasp, staring at the ring as my brain scrambles to catch up.
“Wait, what?!” Kathy exclaims, rushing over to grab her daughter’s hand. “When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Laura laughs, looking sheepish. “Right before I left for Colorado. I wanted to surprise you both.”
Kathy pulls her into a tight hug, her face lighting up with pure joy. “Oh, honey! I’m so happy for you! I can’t believe you kept this a secret! He’s a great guy! Oh, this is just wonderful!”
I force a smile, my chest tightening as I watch the mother-daughter moment unfold in front of me. I am happy for her—truly. Laura deserves all the happiness in the world. But as I stand there, watching them, a deep ache builds inside me.
Laura’s moving forward. She’s getting married, starting this beautiful new chapter in her life. And me? I’m still stuck. Stuck in a fake relationship, stuck in a job that feels like it’s slipping away, and stuck with a dad who’d rather marry a woman half his age than deal with his daughter’s emotional baggage.
Why does it feel like everyone else’s life is moving ahead except mine?
“Congratulations, Laura,” I finally say, stepping forward to hug her. “I’m so happy for you.”
She beams at me, but something in her gaze softens, like she sees past my words. She knows me too well. “Thanks, Jess.”
We finish decorating the tree, the mood lighter with Kathy and Laura chattering about wedding plans. But even as I hang ornaments and smile in the right places, I can’t shake the feeling of being left behind.
Eric’s gone. I’ve pushed him away—maybe for good this time. And I’ve got no one to blame but myself. Laura’s moving into the next phase of her life, and I can’t help but feel like I’m on the outside looking in. Hell, even my dad is moving on, planning a new life with his latest girlfriend, while I’m stuck trying to keep the pieces of my life from falling apart.
The tree sparkles in the corner of the room, its lights glowing softly against the darkening sky outside. It’s beautiful. But it doesn’t feel like Christmas.
Not without Eric.
And definitely not with this ache in my chest, reminding me that I’m always the one left behind.
Will it ever be my turn to have something good? Something real?
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18 (Reading here)
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37