Chapter 24 December 24th #2
After another hour of watching her sleeping, I finally accept that today she’s not going to wake up. I drop a kiss on her cheek and stand with effort. “See you tomorrow, Mum.”
See you tomorrow, buttercup.
I roughly wipe at my face, desperate to hear those words, today especially, before grabbing my bag and walking out.
I wander until it’s dark, or as dark as it can be when everything’s coated in white. I find myself outside the The Royal Constantine. I get a fleeting look of surprise as I pass through the lobby. Not because I’m here on Christmas Eve. But because I’m not in my usual office wear.
Julio’s standing behind the bar, the cloth he’s using freezing mid-swipe when he clocks me. “It’s Christmas Eve, Camryn,” he says, sighing, abandoning his task and tossing the cloth in the nearby sink. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, taking the last stool and shrugging off my coat, letting it drape the backrest.
“I work until nine and then I go home to my family.” He leans over the bar. “Where is the man?”
“Dirty martini, please.”
He considers me for a moment, eyes narrowed, before he pushes off the bar with a sigh he wants me to hear and gets me my drink. “Have you called him?”
I look up through my lashes. “No.” I don’t have a phone to call him. I either left it at Dec’s in my haste to leave, or I lost it between his place and mine. “Where’s my drink?”
He doesn’t answer, just shakes his head as he tips the ingredients into the shaker.
It occurs to me as I watch the liquid pour from the bottle that I’ve not been to the toilet all day, and my bladder is quickly yelling at me to relieve it.
“I’ll be back.” I leave Julio smacking the lid on the shaker and head to the bathroom.
I use the toilet, wash my hands, dry them, and I manage to do it all while avoiding the mirrors at every turn.
When I get back, my drink is set on the bar.
Something next to it.
I jolt to a stop.
My heart begins to thrum in my chest, quickly working its way up to a full-blown clatter. I don’t want to approach, and yet my feet slowly carry me to the bar, the small object set next to my martini becoming clearer.
A snow globe.
A white feather, encased in ice, floating in the center.
I look around the bar, noting I’m alone, until Julio comes through the staff door. “Did you put that there?” I ask, pointing at it with a limp finger. He shakes his head but doesn’t look surprised to see it. “Then who—”
“But I did put this here.” Julio sets something else on the bar. A small flip calendar, the kind someone would have on their desk, maybe twenty years ago. He fiddles with it for a second, turning month after month.
Until he arrives at December.
He disappears back through the staff door, leaving me alone in the bar with my drink, the snow globe, and the small desk calendar. My chest pumps with the force of my breathing as I blindly lower my arse to the stool, my eyes lasers on the name of the month. This month. The worst month of my life.
I don’t want to flip the page to December 1st.
I do want to flip the page.
Visions of the calendar on Dec’s fridge invade my mind, all the memories noted of him and Albi, one for each day.
To think he’s made notes of each day he’s known me, too, scares me to death.
I clasp my hands together to try and stop them shaking, a conflicting tug of war in my heart repeatedly pulling me from hopeful to cautious.
I pick up my drink and take a healthy glug.
Then I brave reaching for the calendar and turn the first page, holding my breath as I do.
December 1st
Only my boy has ever made my heart twinge. Today, you did. I’ve never seen such a beautifully dull diamond.
December 2nd
I nearly went back to the bar today just to see if you were there. There’s something about you. I need to know what.
I inhale, the words blurring through my welling eyes. I let them fall, needing to clear them so I can read on.
December 3rd
I couldn’t resist going to the bar today. You weren’t there.
December 4th
You smell like martinis and regrets. And for my sins, I want to know what that tastes like.
December 5th
All I’ve done since I left you was worry whether you’d go back to the bar and hook up with another guy. I don’t want you to, and I don’t think you want to either. You opened up to me a little today. I know I’m right to pursue this. I can be patient.
December 6th
You smiled today, and I realised I’m falling for you.
December 7th
You tried to push me away tonight. And all the silent lies are building. As are my feelings.
December 8th
It was everything. More than everything. I tasted your sadness, and I felt your hope. And you looked just so fucking beautiful.
December 9th
I can still feel you on my lips. Taste you on my tongue. I hope it lingers until I see you again.
I find myself flipping through the days, needing his thoughts more with each one I read. A timeline of our relationship—an insight into Dec’s mind. What he felt.
December 10th
It’s snowing. My little fella is beside himself. I have a feeling you won’t be. And not because you hate snow. What’s your story, Camryn?
December 11th
I missed Albi’s bedtime to see you. And you bailed. I just don’t know why you’d do that. To me. To you.
December 12th
Today I walked out of my office and found you frozen on the pavement. You kissed me. I heard every word you said with that kiss. It didn’t scare me. But it’s the words you didn’t say that terrify me.
Because I love you too.
My hands shake as I turn to the next day, my throat thick with emotion.
December 13th
You opened up today about your mum. But there’s more. I know there’s more. And I so desperately wanted to tell you about Albi, but something stopped me.
December 14th
I woke up and my heart dropped.
Then I read your message. You didn’t run.
December 15th
I don’t even know what to write. But I know that I love you. And I’m petrified it's not going to be enough.
December 16th
40 today. I wish I could have spent it with you. I’ve only ever been this scared once in my life—when I found out I was going to be a dad. I might be more scared now because I just don’t know how to tell you about Albi, and more than that, how you’ll take it.
December 17th
I spent the day still trying to figure out how the fuck I tell a woman who’s lost a little boy that I have what she lost. And you lied to me about the cut on your face. Why?
December 18th
I feel like my secrets are accidental. Secrets that wouldn’t need to be secrets if you weren’t the woman you are. Does that make me any less deceiving? Will you forgive me for withholding?
December 19th
I just wanted to make today better. I love you so fucking much. I just want to take the pain away, and I feel like I’m just adding to it.
December 20th
I couldn’t stay away. And I’m glad I didn’t. You’re right. Today was a conflicting mix of amazing and really fucking heartbreaking. What you did for me and Albi . . . incredible.
December 21st
I think Albi’s as in love with you as I am. We want forever with you and everything that comes with it. I just have to ask and pray you say yes.
December 22nd
Why now? When I feel so content, so complete, why now? You ran. I can’t even be mad with you. I just feel . . . broken.
December 23rd
I wanted to come to you so badly today. Albi isn’t himself. I’m definitely not myself. I couldn’t leave him—I was scared to leave him. I just need to figure out how to fix this.
I retract my hand, bracing myself for today and what it might say, exhaling, as if I’ve been holding my breath the whole time. I slowly flip the page.
December 24th
It’s been you since December 1st, Camryn. It’ll only ever be you.
All the air is stolen from my lungs again when I slowly turn and find him sitting in the exact same chair he was when I first saw him.
On December 1st.
“I love you,” he murmurs, staying exactly where he is. I want to go to him but can’t feel my legs. I want to throw my arms around him but can’t stop them shaking. My head is being blitzed by endless questions. What happened? How is Albi? Where is Chelsea?
“You love me,” I whisper instinctively, convincing my legs to move. I get off my stool and cross the bar, biting down on my lip to stop it wobbling, and he rises to welcome me, opening his arms for me to walk into. His arms around me are everything.
“It crushes me that you thought for a second I wouldn’t choose you,” he says into my hair, squeezing me to him. “Never think that again. Ever. Do you hear me?”
I can only nod into his chest, damning my self-doubt and racing mind for diluting what I know about Dec with misplaced possibilities.
“Come home,” he orders gently, breaking away and wiping my tears. “And never leave us again.” Brushing my hair back, he holds my face. “Leave the room when you need to, go for a walk, remove yourself and take a moment, but never leave us.”
I snivel, his face blurring past my tears, and he smiles sadly, kissing each of my cheeks before he settles on my mouth, sharing my salty tears. My lips quiver against his as I fall into the soft, slow pace of his kiss, clinging to his wrists like the lifeline he is.
“Ready?” he murmurs, taking his adoring mouth away from me way too soon.
I nod, burying my face in his chest and letting the last of my sobs leave me as he holds me.
“Come on.” He tucks me into his side and walks me to the bar, pulling my coat off the stool and holding it up for me to slip my arms in, before he collects my bag and slips the snow globe and calendar inside.
He places a twenty on the bar, just as Julio reappears, nodding his approval. “Merry Christmas, you two.”
Dec nods, short and sharp, and I smile as I’m led out of the bar.
To go home.