Page 71 of A Love Like Christmas Time
“The only thing I miss about the city,” Nic admits with a nod as she drives onto the highway.
Nic is taking over driving for the first half of the trip, currently drumming her fingers against the steering wheel to Taylor Swift’s new album. Meanwhile, I’m finally more awake, courtesy of the liquid goodness in my hands, but that means my thoughts can circle freely around the bomb my dad dropped on me yesterday.
“Do you want to talk about it now?” Nic offers, reaching over to give my shoulder a squeeze without taking her eyes off the road.
She had a mountain of desserts ready by the time I made it back to the apartment. We spent the evening eating ourselves into an ice-cream-induced food coma and watchedGuardians of the Light. I wasn’t quite ready to talk about the conversation I had with my dad. And she didn’t pry, like the amazing friend she is.
“They’re getting a divorce,” I say, and exhale a deep sigh.
“Okay.” She reaches for her coffee in the center console and takes a sip. “How do we feel about that? Do we celebrate? Or do I need to stop for a fast-food breakfast?”
“You can stop for breakfast, but that has nothing to do with their divorce,” I joke, earning a glare.
“The truth is, I don’t feel anything about it. If anything, ‘It’s about damn time,’” I confess and breathe out a heavy sigh.
“With everything you’ve told me—” She glances at me pointedly. “After what your mom pulled on Thanksgiving, I’m frankly surprised your dad apparently expected your support.”
“Trust me, Thanksgiving was only the tip of the iceberg.” I roll my eyes and sink deeper into the seat. There’s something about driving through a snowy landscape while your butt is warmed by the seat heater. “If we’re going by shitty things my mother did, he would’ve left her when I was five. There’s no way my dad initiated the divorce.”
“She was that bad?” she asks, surprised, and I nod.
“Yes, absolutely.”
“So now they’re getting a divorce.” She sounds as confused as I am. “Why?”
“Honestly, I didn’t ask. But I wouldn’t be surprised if my mother had found a greener lawn.” I shrug and stretch my arms over my head. “That’s not even the part that’s messing me up.” I wave a hand, trying to shake it off. “It’s that after all those years of being ‘the neutral one,’ he suddenly wants me to take his side. As if that’s not a little late for team loyalty.” I shake myhead. “It’s pissing me off. I’ve managed without a team fine so far. I don’t need to be drafted now.”
“I’m on your team.” Nic reaches over and rubs my shoulder reassuringly. I never even realized I’d folded into myself, knees tucked up against my chest. “So is Kieran. And Henry. And Caleb.”
“Yeah.” I exhale a deep sigh and relax the tiniest bit. “I know you guys are.” For a while we sit silently, Nic focusing on the commuting traffic that’s slowly filling the highway, while I watch the scenery fly by.
“Did you expect this? When we decided to move?” I whisper after a while.
“Did I expect my ex to cheat on me with my sister and then, upon moving to the middle of nowhere, to meet the kindest man ever?” She shakes her head. “How could anyone have expected that? Honestly, I was sure the two of us would build some sort of codependent cat commune and embrace our crazy cat-lady lifestyle until we join Chaos in the afterlife.”
“Oh my god. Same.” The corners of my mouth twitch upwards.
“What? You didn’t imagine the town’s hot, grumpy hunk falling for you?” Nic teases and glances at me. “Please. I was banking on this happening ever since I saw how he looked at you during the bonfire.”
“Ah, the bonfire.” My gaze turns far away as memories flood my mind. Mainly of Caleb carrying a drunk Kieran, flung over his shoulder like a wet sack of potatoes. “That was fun. We should do it again.”
“Let’s get home first,” Nic points out and reaches for her coffee cup. “And bring some distance between you and any emotions about your family. Has your mother bothered to reach out to you and tell you about the divorce or anything?”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Would it make me sound mean if I admit that I see this divorce as a chance to let any contact fizzle out?”
Nic watches me from the corner of her eye. “You’re asking me? Seriously? The person who already cut off all of her living family?”
“You make a good point.” I narrow my eyes and take a sip of my coffee.
“I meant to say, no. I don’t think you need to beat yourself up about it.” Nic takes a deep breath. “I’m a lot happier. I mean, sure, the ‘Why don’t they love me?’ doubts never go away. But the question pops up less and less. Probably because I have all I need.” She shrugs, a smile playing at her lips. “I have a boyfriend who loves me. I have the most adorable little fur babies. I have you.”
“Aww.” I softly hit her shoulder playfully. “Likewise.”
“I have all I need,” she repeats. “And I’m happy. I know in my heart that, had I kept my parents in my life, they would still be a constant stress factor. They would still make me constantly doubt my self-worth. They wouldn’t contribute to my life in any meaningful way. And by that, I mean even a meaningful conversation.” She shakes her head. “Cutting off that dead weight is freeing. I feel like a whole different person. One that’s a lot happier.”
“That sounds too good to be true,” I admit, staring out the window.
The music turns to the next song, and Nic reaches forward to turn up the volume.
