Chapter 30
Luca
“Can you believe the man doesn’t have a single Christmas decoration?”
Arlo shrugs, walking beside me as we look over the ridiculous amount of decorations in Hobby Lobby. This place is like a Christmas whore’s dream. “It doesn’t surprise me. He’s been a bachelor. What does a single guy have to decorate for?”
I always had the nicest decorations at Damien’s.
I’d never lived in a house with ceilings as tall as his.
On our very first Christmas together, I stood in the middle of the biggest department store in town, hand tucked into his, staring up at the tallest tree I’d ever seen.
I thought I was staring up at it in childlike wonder, but now I wonder if nineteen-year-old me was actually staring up at it like a child instead.
A child clutching the hand of his thirty-five-year-old boyfriend.
Back then, he wasn’t as mad at me all the time. Maybe it’s because I hadn’t grown jaded, or maybe it was because he knew he had more work to do to sink his claws into me. So when I told him how much I wished I could have a tree like that, he kissed my temple and bought it.
I was shocked. I mean, for one, I wasn’t used to just getting things I wanted, and for another, it was so expensive that it didn’t even seem right.
We bought handmade glass ornaments and only the nicest lights.
Decorating it was the worst. It was so big around that it took forever to cover the entire thing, and I had to use a ladder to get to the top.
It was worth it, though, when I climbed back down and lit it up.
I’d lie on the floor, staring up at the twinkling lights, and I’d imagine showing the tree to my mom and dad.
I liked to think about how impressed my mom would be.
She loved Christmas as much as I do, but we could never afford more than the most basic pre-lit tree.
Most of our decorations were homemade. I think she would have loved the understated elegance of my tree at Damien’s.
“Earth to Luca.”
I snap out of my memories to find Arlo waving a hand in front of my face. “Sorry. What?”
“I asked if you know which tree you want.”
“This one, maybe?” I hold a hand out, touching the branches of the tree in front of me.
It’s a much more modest seven-foot tree, with white, snow-tipped ends.
It’s not very round, but it’ll fit perfectly in the living room on the side of the fireplace, and I’ll be able to stare at it from the couch.
“It’s cute,” Arlo says, flashing me a smile.
I think so too. Austin told me to get whatever I wanted and that he wasn’t picky, so I grab the box and put it in the cart. “Now decorations.”
Turns out, there is such a thing as too many options. “I have no idea what to pick.”
My chest aches, mostly because I wish everything was still as simple as homemade things and fun, gaudy decorations.
“I’m sure there are options somewhere that’ll work.”
I shake my head, and Arlo pauses. “I don’t think so. The sad thing is that I want it to feel like when I was a kid. I don’t reckon they have any homemade decorations lying around in here.”
Arlo’s eyes light up, a smile blooming on his face. “Actually,” he says, holding a finger up. “Come here.”
He grabs my hand, leading me a few aisles down. Excitement rushes through me. I mean, I should have known. This is a craft store after all, but I guess I wasn’t expecting to walk into this row to find floor-to-ceiling decoration kits to make yourself.
“Do you think Austin would make some with me?”
Arlo laughs. “That man is a simp. He’d do anything you asked of him.”
That’s probably true. I laugh along with him. “What about you? Do you wanna join?”
Something flashes across his face, there and gone so fast I have no chance of deciphering it. “If you want me to.”
“Of course.”
“Then, yeah. I’d love to.”
Giddy excitement rushes through me. Now this feels like childlike joy. “Fuck, okay. I’m so excited.”
Arlo rolls his eyes. “Okay, but I want these.” He holds up a box. It’s an ugly Christmas sweater cookie kit. With little bags of icing and sugar cookies in the shape of sweaters.
“No way. That’s so cool. We definitely need it.”
He tosses it in the cart with a smile as we pick out a few crafting things. One is a decorate-your-own-Santa-hat kit, another a felt reindeer craft. My favorite is the snowman-making kit.
“I think we have enough,” I say when the cart is loaded down with crafting kits, the tree, some Grinch-themed balls I found, and a rug for outside the front door.
None of the decorations are cohesive, but I think that makes it all the more special, honestly.
After we check out, Arlo and I walk outside into the cool air. Now that it’s December, it’s getting colder and colder. The air nips at your skin, freezing your nose almost instantly.
We race across the parking lot, putting everything in the trunk as quickly as we can. “Holy s-s-shit,” I stammer, teeth chattering. “It’s f-f-freezing.”
Arlo throws his head back with a loud laugh. I toss him the keys, then shove my hands into my pockets. “Start the car. I’m gonna put the cart up.”
I damn near run back toward the store, pushing the cart one-handed while keeping my other tucked in my pocket. I shove the cart into the corral, and I’m turning to walk away when someone catches my eye.
I catch just the barest glimpse of him as he disappears between two aisles, but the salt and pepper hair and knee-length peacoat freeze the blood in my veins faster than any cold air ever could.
I’m rooted in place, terrified to walk away, and terrified to investigate further.
There’s no way. There’s no fucking way at all. I shake my head, willing my body to move. To walk out the door and go back to my car. It’s not him. It’s not. It can’t be.
My mind’s playing tricks on me. Just like in the woods.
Just like in the car lot. I take a step forward, then another, walking deeper into the store and to the aisles I saw the man walk into.
My heart’s pounding in my ears, so deafening I can’t even hear my own footsteps as I peek around the corner and glance down the aisle.
Nothing.
No one is there.
It’s not Damien. It’s not. He’s not the only man with that coat. Nor is he the only man with black salt and pepper hair.
It’s not him. It’s not him. It’s not him.
I haven’t heard so much as a peep out of him in all this time. The odds of him finding me now are slim to none. It’s been months. Why would he show up now? There’s no way.
And besides, if he were here, he would have found me already. And Damien wouldn’t be caught dead in a Hobby Lobby.
I turn and walk back into the cold, rushing to the car and flinging the door open before quickly sliding into the driver’s seat.
Arlo squawks. “Shit. You scared me. What took you so long?”
“Got distracted,” I say, holding my hands in front of the vent to warm them up some before putting the car in reverse and backing out.
Arlo is avoiding Jasper like the plague. It’s been a thing all night long, and I haven’t been able to figure out why yet.
Maybe they aren’t the best of friends, but they get along well enough, or at least they did, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why that’s not the case anymore.
Arlo’s lost in his task, focusing hard on putting his snowman together, and Jasper? Well, he’s focused hard on watching Arlo. Jesus, I wish I knew what they were thinking.
There are some benefits to knowing your boyfriend your entire life. One of them is knowing without a doubt that Austin has also picked up on this, and he’s giving me a side-eye that screams, We’re going to talk about this as soon as they leave.
I shoot him one back of my own, letting him know I’m one step ahead of him. Drama session is already scheduled in my brain.
“Okay,” Austin says. “Are we ready to put stuff on the tree?”
Jasper turns away from Arlo to look at Austin. “Yeah. Still can’t believe you all tricked me into coming to decorate a Christmas tree. I thought I was getting dinner.”
I glare at him for a second, then look at the empty bowl sitting to his left. “Is that not dinner?”
“Okay,” he concedes. “I didn’t know it wasn’t just dinner.”
“I think decorating is fun,” Arlo says, putting the finishing touches on his snowman before picking up a marker and writing his initials on the bottom.
“It is for sure,” Jasper rushes to assure him.
Austin and I share another look, and I almost burst into laughter when he raises an eyebrow. What the fuck is that about?
I lift my shoulder just enough for him to notice and no one else. I have no idea.
“Okay.” I clap, getting everyone’s attention. “Let’s get this shit on the tree.”
It’s really not as big as what I’m used to, but it’s mine. I bought it with my own money, and I’m so incredibly proud of that.
Arlo jumps up, a huge smile on his face. Jasper, still staring at him like a damn weirdo, joins him, carrying his small stack of decorations.
We take turns putting them on the tree. Arlo and I have the best placement, but Austin and Jasper do about as well as I expected them to. By the time we’re done, it’s pretty well covered.
“Lights now,” I say.
Austin shuts off the living room light, then plugs in the multi-colored string lights I bought to put on the tree.
The pretty lights do exactly what I hoped they would—bathe the living room in soft, colorful lighting.
It feels nostalgic and homey, and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I tried.
“Wow,” Arlo says, bumping his shoulder against mine. “We did hella good.”
“We really did.” I glance at him. “Do you have plans for Christmas?”
I used to do a massive dinner for Damien’s work friends. It was always so strange. I spent the entire day cooking and cleaning and getting the house presentable, and when they all arrived, I was to be seen and not heard.
I’m so fucking tired of Damien’s bullshit being so many of my memories. It’s time for new ones. Period.
“No, I don’t have any family here.”
“What about you, Jasper?” I ask, eyeing him.