Christmas Catch: A Holiday Novella Read Online Free Page B

up.
    “This is new. I’m not used to you breaking things. When did that start happening?” He doesn’t answer, so I put the first aid things away and come back out. He’s still sitting in the chair and glaring off into space.
    “If you want to be pissed at me, fine. But don’t give me the silent treatment. It’s childish. I’ve told you I’m sorry for everything. When I left here, I wanted a clean break. I didn’t think I could do the long distance thing. It seemed better to cut our losses and not try to keep something going that was doomed anyway.”
    “We were doomed? Who are you to decide that? I would have fought for you. For us. But you just gave up before we even started. Didn’t even try. Just gave up.”
    “That’s not fair.” I pull out the other chair and sit down. Now I’m the one glaring. He’s putting this on me, but he’s the one who didn’t fight the breakup.
    “If I recall, I was the one who ended it, but you said it was fine. You agreed to it. So what the hell, Sawyer? Were you lying to me? You, Mr. Honesty Is The Best Policy? How about we talk about that?” I cross my arms and we glare at each other, both boiling mad.
    He doesn’t say anything and something inside me snaps. I didn’t come here for this. I don’t know what I came for, but I don’t want to do this anymore. I am officially done. Being at home is better than this.
    “Well, if you don’t want me here, then I’m going to go. Bye, Sawyer.” He doesn’t stop me from leaving, and I slam the door. It doesn’t make me feel better. I knew coming home was a mistake.

 
     
     
     
     

     
    Okay, I’ll admit it. I cried on the way back home. There was a reason I ended things with Sawyer. I can’t trust myself around him. Well, no more. If I see him again, I’m running the other way. Stupid small town. THIS IS WHY I FUCKING LEFT.
    I blast The Police and drive in circles through Saltwater before heading back home. I’ve got nowhere else to go, and it’s time to decorate the damn tree. The weather has snapped back to cold and I can smell snow in the air. Yes, you can smell snow. Or at least I can.
    My house does look cozy, with the half-burned out lights sadly blinking on the porch and the lights glowing over the yard. Christmas music is blasting again; I can hear it as soon as I get out of the car. Instead of yelling, I hear laughter. That’s a nice change.
    I wipe my eyes and take a few breaths of the chilly air. It burns in my lungs and dries the remnants of my tears.
    It’s chaos when I walk inside, but joyful chaos.
    “You’re back!” Mom says, as several of my nieces and nephews cover her with tinsel. Drew and Dad are busy trying to turn the tree so the best side is facing out, with contradictory instructions from Dulcey and Stacy.
    “We wanted to wait for you to be here until we started the ornaments.” There is a very specific way that they must be put on, and we’ve been doing it this way since I was a kid. I’d nearly forgotten about the routine, but I smile as I look at the dozens of boxes of ornaments. First, before we do anything, we must pick a color scheme and vote on it.
    Mom holds up a notebook and a pencil and hands it to me. I write down all the possible color combinations. These were agreed upon by my parents (or really, my mother) before we were born. Silver and blue, red and green, purple and white, orange and yellow, red, black and white, orange, blue and silver, green, purple and silver. It’s a very complicated system.
    I call out the colors and everyone votes for their favorite. There is also a lot of “convincing” that goes on. Or I should say, pressuring. It’s like a presidential campaign, with everyone trying to win votes to their side. Once everything is tallied, the winner is red, black and white. This is my personal favorite, so I’m happy.
    Then, we have to get the right boxes, which are all labeled (once again, by my mother) and everyone fights to see who gets to put on