Chapter 3
Jenna
I can’t believe it. Every single candy cane in this box is completely smashed. There isn’t a single intact candy cane as I dig frantically through the bag.
I didn’t know the candy canes would be shipped in bulk. I guess I thought they would be individually wrapped. But there’s a big bag, and it’s full of candy canes. Well, it was full of candy canes one time. Now it’s full of crushed candy cane pieces. Not what I wanted to see, and I can feel my stomach churning. If I had anything in it, I know I would want to throw up. My aunt had just told me how she counted on winning this every year to bring business into the shop, to get eyes and interest, and now, with only one day before the competition, what am I going to do?
“What’s the matter?” Nate says as he walks over, looking down. I don’t think I need to tell him what the problem is as my hands sift through the pieces of candy cane, and they fall off in little clicks and clacks.
It would sound nice, if it wasn’t such a devastating blow.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. My aunt is counting on me to be able to put up a display, and... How am I going to do that without any candy canes?”
And then I remember who I’m talking to. This is the man who broke up with me right before prom. He somehow found a date—Abby—on short notice, and I ended up sitting at home alone, because it was too late for me to find anyone. I saw pictures later, and he and Abby looked pretty cozy, like they were having the time of their lives. It was like everything we had ever done together didn’t mean anything to him.
And here I am, my first day of being a shop owner in my hometown is completely blown to smithereens, and who’s witnessing it? Of course. Nate.
I wish I hadn’t said anything to him. I wish I hadn’t opened the boxes until after he left.
“That’s terrible. And... You’re not going to have enough time to get more candy canes before the competition. It’s the day after tomorrow.”
Like I hadn’t already said that. I want to snap at him. Or tell him to buzz off, to go find Abby and get snuggly with her, but that was eight years ago, and you’d think that I would have gotten over it by now.
None of the guys that were interested in me in college measured up to Nate. He’s just...one of a kind. And I suppose I had my mind set on being with him forever. Having him dump me the way he did, being as devastated as I was, I just...was never able to get interested in anyone else.
“I know. I’ll figure something out. Thanks,” I say, dismissing him.
He pauses, and I’m sure he wants to say something. But I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear that he’s sorry or that he regrets it or that he and Abby are engaged or married or whatever. I don’t know. I just don’t want to hear anything. I don’t want to talk to him, don’t want to see him. I thought I had gotten over the pain of him breaking up with me, but I hadn’t realized it was still so fresh until he stood in front of me.
I have this candy cane problem to deal with. I don’t need any other chaos in my life.
“That was my last delivery for the day. I’ll... I’ll stay and try to give you a hand if you want me to?”
“There’s really nothing you can do. I don’t have candy canes,” I say, remembering the second box just in time. My eyes land on it, and I hurry over, hoping against hope that this box is not completely smashed like the last box. I might be able to salvage something anyway, if it’s in good shape.
The scissors rip through the tape, and while I noticed that Nate has followed me, I don’t acknowledge him. What did he not understand about I don’t want him?
“Surely there is a way we can use this,” he says, and I want to smack him. Just leave already.
But that’s not kind, and I swallow the urge. “There’s no way we can use these. Even if we could piece them back together somehow, which we can’t. If there were just a few broken ones, we could deal with it. But... This is not doable.”
“Let me take you out for supper, talk, and maybe we can figure something out.”
I look at him in shock. What in the world makes him think that I want to have anything to do with him?
“No thank you,” I say, trying not to put a fake smile on my face. I want to be kind, truly, but he broke up with me and walked away, totally uncaring that he had completely broken my heart. I don’t want to have anything to do with him ever again. Other than a casual hello, goodbye.
“Jenna. We broke up eight years ago.”
“I know,” I say, standing to my feet and looking at the boxes. I’ve got a bigger problem on my hands. Although, I suppose the only thing to do is to just say that we can’t enter the contest this year. There’s just nothing else to do.
“So in the last eight years, you haven’t found it in your heart to forgive me?” he asks, and he sounds humble and contrite, and I know for a fact that he’s honest. If he says he’s going to do something, he will. He never promised me he’d stay with me.
“I forgive you. I just don’t want to repeat it.” There. That surely is understandable.
“I don’t want to repeat it either. I made a mistake. I’d like to correct it.”
I look at him in shock. I certainly didn’t expect him to say that.