Chapter Two
From the outside, the house looked absolutely perfect.
The painters had done a great job. It was too bad that when Ali Porter walked into it, she had to wonder if every box she’d packed had spawned four more.
If it were more organized, it would look like the storeroom at the hardware store where she worked as a teenager.
This disaster would have gotten her fired.
If one of her students had tried to use such a heavy-handed metaphor—perfect from the outside, total mess inside—she would have asked them to try again. But after her divorce finally became official a year ago, things were looking pretty messy everywhere. Now everyone in town knew she was a mess.
Not a mess, a work in progress.
Part of that progress was divorcing Kyle.
There was nothing wrong with Kyle. He was fine.
He was a fine husband and a fine friend and everything about him—about them as a couple—was fine.
But along the way, Ali stopped wanting to stay the same couple they had been since high school and Kyle didn’t want anything to change.
He wanted people in town to look at them like they were still the prom king and queen, and he wanted to talk about his glory days as the captain of the football team.
Ali stopped wanting to go along with whatever Kyle wanted.
Ali wanted more than simply fine.
Ali wanted to be herself at twenty-eight, not remain who she was at eighteen. She wanted to choose new things and he didn’t and if she stayed, she was going to keep letting him convince her to be the girl he loved at eighteen instead of herself.
Right now, she was a woman standing in her own living room, surrounded by boxes she should’ve unpacked months ago in a house that would impress the people who drove by as long as they didn’t slow down long enough to see the woman inside losing her goddamned mind.
But the holiday lights looked nice in the windows. Ali always liked the ones that looked like candles, but Kyle wanted to do the over-the-top multi-color flashing lights extravaganza and told her the candle lights were for old people.
You can bet your ass the first thing Ali did after Halloween was put those suckers in every window she could find.
Take that, Kyle.
Ali dropped onto the couch she hated. It reminded her of her old life.
It was fine. Sturdy, well-reviewed, but beige.
It had been a sensible purchase she had made with Kyle.
When she moved out, they divvied up everything and he told her to take the couch so she would have at least one thing to sit on.
Maybe it was a nice gesture, but sitting on it reminded her how much she hated beige and how she should have pushed for the couch she really wanted.
It was a deep teal and had a weird mid-century vibe that Kyle hated. So, Ali caved, as per usual.
Ali wondered if she could get some new stuff over the winter break. That would mean unpacking enough boxes to make room for it. She looked around at the boxes and felt the creeping, overwhelming dread seep into her bones.
No.
Ali told herself she could do this. She was going to unpack five boxes before dinner. And then another five before she went to bed. She did a quick count and realized that even ten boxes wasn’t going to be enough to clear the room, but it would be a start. She could make a start.
Ali Canterbury might not be able to tackle that, but Ali Porter could.
And after the divorce Ali was back to her old last name, the name that fit so much better.
She never should have changed it in the first place, but her mom and Kyle had talked her into that, too.
And now she was going to have to deal with her mom asking when she changed her name back.
At least her brother, Tommy, was home for Christmas and could back her up with their family. Her phone vibrated so hard it fell off the box it was sitting on. She really needed to unpack these boxes so she could set up an actual coffee table.
It was Tommy.
Drinks tonight. Don’t argue. We’re going out. Pick you up at seven.
Ali considered leaving him on Read and letting him stew, but that wouldn’t stop him from pulling into her driveway in a few hours.
Fine. I’ll come but if it sucks, I’m leaving.
He sent a shrug emoji. It’s not going to suck.
Ali looked at the boxes. Now she had ten boxes to unpack before seven. She should have told him no.