by Anne Brooke
After a few minutes, I asked about the Sainsbury’s bloke, and Jake shook his head.
“I don’t see Pete anymore,” he said. “It didn’t really work out.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Which was only partly a lie. I didn’t want him to be unhappy.
He shrugged. “No need. We were just mates, really.”
When we parted, he leant forward and kissed me lightly on the cheek. I didn’t know whether it was where we were or the people we were with or if it was something he actually wanted to do, but it felt good. I watched as he walked away, unsure how things were between us now but more than anything not wanting to push it. That night I dreamed about him, and for the first time that I could remember it didn’t end badly.
The third time we met up was December, nearly a year after we’d split and just two weeks before Christmas. This time, I’d rung him. It took me four attempts to actually make the call, but when I spoke to him, he was fine, even sounded like he might be pleased to hear from me. Unless I was imagining that, of course. Anyway, I asked if he’d like to go for a coffee, he said yes, and that was why I found myself the following Saturday afternoon sitting at Starbucks and feeling the heat in my face when Jake walked in from the packed street.
Somehow, I managed to smile. “What would you like? Is it still a tall espresso and leave room for the milk?”
He nodded. “Please.”
When I got back, carrying his order and my own cappuccino, he’d taken off his raincoat and was hanging it over one of the other chairs. I sat down opposite him. When I pushed his mug over, our hands touched. It might have been me, but it felt like he didn’t draw away that quickly.
There were things I wanted to say to him—the reason I’d called in the first place—but he got there before me. His words were low, urgent. Like he’d been storing them up for a while, and this was his one chance to set them free.
“I’m glad you called,” he said, reaching to take my fingers in his. “I’ve wanted to call you for a while, but I haven’t had the guts. I’m sorry we left it so long. I’m sorry for a lot of other things too. I don’t think I’ve treated you fairly. Yes, you hurt me—really hurt me—but maybe I should have listened to you, too, before it came to... what it did. Seen how it was. Maybe I just expected you to play by my rules when that was the worst thing I could have asked for. I don’t know. What I do know, Danny, is this: I don’t think it’s worth throwing away what we had. I know how hard you’ve worked at being clean this year and going easy on the drink. That’s more than I’ve done to sort myself out for a lifetime. You’ve got more courage than I’ve ever had. The other thing I know is this: I thought it was over, but I still have feelings for you. They won’t go away. If anything they’re stronger. So I need to ask you this before I lose my nerve. We both managed to mess up last Christmas, but do you think that if I play my cards right with you, then there might be a chance this one will be better?”
I blinked. Then blinked again. Put my other hand on top of his where he still held me. The cappuccino could wait. “How did you know about what I’ve been doing this year?”
He had the grace to blush, but he didn’t stop looking at me. “I speak to Robert every now and then. He didn’t tell you?”
“No.” I shook my head, making a mental note to confront my elusive manager at the next opportunity. “He didn’t.”
“Oh.” Then, “Danny, what do you think? About… about us, I mean?”
“I think,” I said, slowly. “I think I’ve needed this year. We’ve both needed it. I’m sorry for cheating on you. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I should have been more honest with you from the start. About me. I don’t want it to happen again—hell, I’ve not had sex with anyone apart from myself this whole year, though a couple of times it came bloody close. I think about you all the time. I don’t want what I did to happen again, but if I feel myself being drawn away, I swear I’ll tell you. Maybe we can help each other. As for how I feel about you, I told you straight up last year, and that’s still the same. I love you. I love who you are, I love how you make me feel, and I love how we are when we’re together. With the commitment you talked about or without it. I don’t mind. And even through the tough times too. So my answer to your question about Christmas, Jake, is this.”
Having spoken for way way too long, I let go his hand, moved the coffee mugs to one side, reached across the table, and kissed him. I made it short and sweet, as I didn’t want to frighten the shoppers, but I put everything I had into it too.
It turned out to be exactly the answer he wanted.
And Christmas? Ah well, it turned out to be one of the best ever, I swear it.
Got Mistletoe Madness?
The Dreamspinner Press 2009 Advent Calendar is available at http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com.
About the Author
Anne Brooke’s fiction has been shortlisted for the Harry Bowling Novel Award, the Royal Literary Fund Awards, and the Asham Award for Women Writers. She has also twice been the winner of the DSJT Charitable Trust Open Poetry Competition. She loves reading dark and quirky crime novels and has a secret passion for bird watching and chocolate. Preferably at the same time. She once took a balloon flight in Egypt but spent most of the time screaming and hopes she never has to do it again.
Visit her Web site at http://www.annebrooke.com and her blog at http://annebrooke.blogspot.com.
Copyright
Two Christmases ©Copyright Anne Brooke, 2009
Published by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art by Paul Richmond http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com
Cover Design by Mara McKennen
This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
Released in the United States of America
December 2009
eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-341-4
