Chapter 22
twenty-two
DANIEL GLARED at his laptop, paced the length of his living room, then glared at it again. He couldn’t seem to make it through an email or a spreadsheet without his mind wandering back to the island. Specifically, to one golden-haired liar.
No. Nope. Not going there.
He was not going to think about her anymore. He had a job to get ready for and a world that did not involve her. Or the sweet smell of cinnamon and sugar that seemed to follow her wherever she went.
He clasped his fist to his chest, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. Or he could put it through a wall.
His landlord would not appreciate that.
After taking another deep breath, he released the tension in his hand as he released the air through his nose.
Not great. But better.
He marched a few steps but stopped when he realized he was stomping on the ceiling of the apartment below. They probably thought he was trying to break through. But even that wouldn’t take away the ache in his chest. It might distract him for a minute, though.
Huffing out a sigh, he tiptoed to the brown corduroy sofa that dominated the space and flopped onto it. If Christmas was a season for giving gifts and God was the giver of all good gifts, what did that make Whitney?
She had set up residence in his brain and refused to leave. From the time he’d boarded the airplane in Charlottetown to this moment, he’d had no relief—no reprieve. The woman was stuck in his brain. Not in a good gifts kind of way. It was more a constant reminder of what he’d never have in his life again.
Memories of her flooded through him. Her smile. Her laughter. The way she trusted him to guide their sled safely. The comfort in her hugs. The way her forehead would crinkle when she tried to understand something.
Her kiss.
He’d thought he’d known her. He’d thought he’d seen her. No pretense. No lies.
He’d been so wrong.
Whitney had been different from Lauren—maybe because she knew about Lauren. He’d been careful to confirm that he wasn’t misreading the situation, misinterpreting her actions. He’d trod slowly, cautiously.
And it had blown up in his face, just like his relationship with Lauren.
The pain was different, though. With Lauren he’d been filled with anger, then frustration until it simmered to a low boil. Eventually, it had evaporated, leaving little evidence. Just a cautionary reminder to tread lightly.
But Whitney had left a hole—an aching chasm somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. He was having trouble finding that now too.
He could be patient if he thought the pain would slowly subside, but how was he supposed to fill an emptiness that only Whitney fit?
“Argh!” He grabbed his lone throw pillow and stuffed it against his face, lest his downstairs neighbors think he had released an angry grizzly in the building.
A knock on his door made him jump to his feet. Probably said neighbors checking to make sure his apartment was still standing.
The building? Yes. The tenant? Barely.
He flung the door open. A silver-haired man held out a white bag filled with Styrofoam takeout containers.
Right. Thai food. Dinner. He’d ordered it an hour before when he’d been hungry and significantly less angsty.
“It’s $24.70.”
Daniel nodded and reached for the entry table, where he always unloaded his keys, phone, and wallet when he walked in the door. His keys were in the bowl. But his wallet and phone were conspicuously absent.
He quickly patted down the front and back pockets of his jeans—trying not to think about how he’d gotten used to a more casual uniform around Whitney. They were empty.
“Um...” He spun around slowly. “Hang on. I’ve got it around here somewhere.”
The delivery guy nodded, lowering the bag to his side as he leaned a shoulder to the doorframe. “No problem. Take your time. You’re my last delivery of the day.”
“Huh?” Daniel wasn’t so much asking for clarification as he was filling the silence, checking the kitchen counters and the table.
But the guy didn’t need much encouragement to keep going. “Your place looks like mine. Who needs decorations when the rest of the city is overflowing with them, eh?”
Daniel snapped his head up from where he’d been looking under the couch. “What?”
“No tree. No garland.”
He hadn’t needed any. Marie had made the inn as festive as he could want. The tree had been trimmed, the kids’ fingerprints all over it. Ribbons and bows and stockings hung from the mantel. The mistletoe hung in just the right spot.
Pain ripped through his chest.
Stupid mistletoe.
“You done with your Christmas shopping or going out tonight? It’s Christmas Eve, you know.”
He blinked at the guy, the date not quite registering. “No.” He didn’t care how the guy took that response, turning back to the hunt for his wallet. It wasn’t stuck between the sofa cushions. Or on any of the shelves of his bookcase.
Spinning around with his hands on his hips, he scowled at every corner of the room. It wasn’t an overly large space. In fact, most would consider it small. And up until that moment, he’d have considered it clean and organized. But his system had clearly failed him.
Daniel should have used the app and paid the service fee. Contact-free delivery sounded pretty good right about now. And at this rate, the guy would invite himself in to share the pad Thai before Daniel found his wallet.
“Hang on,” he mumbled as he stomped into the lone bedroom and rummaged through the jeans he’d thrown in the hamper the night before. There. That wasn’t fabric. He dug into a pocket and pulled out his phone.
Out of habit, he touched the screen, and it lit up to reveal a series of texts. All from Aretha.
I’m so sorry. This was all my fault. I only wanted you to be happy.
We miss you! Please come back for Christmas at least.
Whitney is miserable. Did you get her message?
He shoved the phone into the pocket of the pants he was wearing, ignoring the tug inside him at his aunt’s appeal and the urge to read the texts he’d been ignoring for several days. Then he resumed his search for his wallet. He’d settle for a couple loose twenties at this point.
The laundry basket yielded nothing else, so he threw himself on the floor and peered under his bed. There it was. He must have kicked it there by accident the night before. He hadn’t slept well since getting back to Toronto, and he had been nearing zombie conditions when he’d fallen into bed.
After snatching the brown leather bump, he hopped back up and started toward the front door.
“Us bachelors have a lot of freedom this time of year, eh?” the delivery guy said.
Us?
The bottom of his stomach dropped out, and in a flash Daniel saw his future in the other man’s eyes. Alone on Christmas Eve. No one even to share a takeout meal with. No one to give gifts to. No one to give him a gift.
No hugs from sticky little arms. No one to snuggle with in front of a fire or stroll with through the neighborhood, holding hands.
Daniel ripped out two bills and shoved them at the delivery guy.
“Hey!” The guy’s eyes lit up. “Merry Christmas, man!”
He must have tipped more than he’d planned. Certainly more than he would have spent on the app. But he didn’t care. He just wanted the guy gone and some peace and quiet with his chicken and noodles.
And no more reminders of Whitney and the island and what Christmas could be.
He dumped his food onto one of the three plates he owned and stood at the kitchen counter, eyeing it wearily. He twirled his fork into it but paused with the food halfway to his mouth before letting it drop to the plate with a clatter.
This was a foretaste of every holiday for the rest of his life.
No joy. No spark. No Whitney.
There are plenty of other women in the city.
But there was no one like her. There never would be. Besides, he didn’t want anyone else. He just wanted Whitney. He wanted a life with her. He wanted her laughter and her tears and kids with frenzied curls just like their mom’s.
He would put them on his shoulders when they walked around the zoo gawking at the strange and wild animals, and he would help them with their math homework. He would love their mom so much that they would never have to wonder.
She would help him see the world clearly. She would nudge him in the right direction and interpret what didn’t make sense.
And he’d help her find her dream.
Leaning his elbows on the counter and pressing his face into his hands, he sighed heavily.
He had only two options. A future with Whitney. Or one without.
A future filled with hope. Or bleakness.
But he wasn’t sure he could trust her.
Aretha had tried to manipulate his love life—but she’d thought she was helping him. Her goal had always been his happiness. He had no trouble believing that. She’d always been the type to have a plan for his life.
That didn’t explain why Whitney had been part of it all. But maybe she had thought she was helping too.
He grabbed his phone and opened his text messages. The little red number in the corner said 9 . He hated those alerts.
But he hadn’t been ready to read her messages. Until now.
Hi. It’s me. I’m sorry. I know that can’t be enough, but I’ll keep saying it until you believe it. I messed up so badly. And I hate that I hurt you. That’s the very last thing I would ever want to do.
I’d barely met you when your aunt asked me to help her get you and Ruby together. You seemed sad. Maybe a little lonely. And I knew that Aretha only wanted your happiness. I thought that maybe helping her could solve both of our problems—my tuition and your happiness. I told myself it wasn’t a good idea, but Aretha was so sure Ruby was exactly what you needed.
Then we started spending time together. And, well, you know.
The day that Ruby announced she’d gotten R&R to agree to the new terms, she kissed you. And I was beyond jealous. I tried to avoid you, tried to put some space between us. But I missed you. I missed the little lines you get above your nose when you’re thinking. I missed the way you are with Julia Mae. I missed the humor that you only shared with me.
It was the day we went sledding. I realized that I didn’t want you to be with Ruby. I wanted you to be with me. I still do.
You are everything I never knew I needed in my life. No one has ever challenged and encouraged me the way you do. You never made fun of me for not having a dream but refused to let me settle for living without one.
I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you about my arrangement with Aretha. I’m sorry that I made you doubt my feelings—or worse, your own. I didn’t tell you the whole truth, but I promise you that I never lied about what I feel for you.
You are a good man. And if you ever decide to give me a second chance, I wouldn’t give you another reason to question my feelings.
If you don’t, well, I’m so glad to have known you. Thank you for trusting me with your story. Lauren messed up. And I would know. I did too.
Daniel sat back, scratching at his whiskers and blinking against a burning in his eyes as he stared at her words. Scrolling through them again to make sure he hadn’t missed something, he took a deep breath.
If what Whitney had said was true, she’d been caught up in Aretha’s plan and the offer to help her pay for culinary school. She’d been convinced that Aretha knew what he needed.
He smiled to himself. Aretha was a bit of a force of nature.
Whitney is miserable.
He could relate.
Maybe if they were both morose on their own, they could find something else together.
Even little Julia Mae had known that the true meaning of Christmas was that they were never meant to be alone. And human love—well, that could be a reflection of God’s forgiveness.
Even he—who so often misunderstood or couldn’t read a situation—was created for relationship.
And the only person he wanted a relationship with was Whitney.
Scrolling through his phone, he found the app he needed. And with a few taps, he purchased a ticket for the first flight in the morning, which departed in a little more than six hours. Then he headed for his bedroom and shoveled clothes into his duffle, ignoring the rapidly cooling pad Thai on his counter. He’d probably regret that later. But he couldn’t be distracted with trivial things when he had a trip to take.
Zipping up his bag, he almost tossed it toward the front door. Then he had an idea. He jogged back into his room, found one more special item, and tucked it into the bag.
He couldn’t show up on the island without it.