Chapter 17 Our Last Christmas #2
“Once. Christmas morning and that was the last time.” My eyes rolled as I remembered the overwhelming disappointment that Christmas—what ended up being our last Christmas together. The memories were even more bitter now.
“This…” Ethan spared me a brief look before bringing his focus back to the camera in his hands. “This is too much. I don’t think I can take this.”
“It’s either you take it or I smash it with a hammer so…” I shrugged, not at all phased by whichever option he chose. Smashing something of Jonah’s might feel really amazing right now, actually.
Disbelief lifted Ethan’s brows, and he scanned all across my face looking for the catch, but he would find none. I wanted this camera out of my life, and if it could go to someone who would get use out of it, even better.
“Thank you. This is—” He paused, struggling for the words to say and allowing me to watch it happen. Under his struggle grew a beam of appreciation aimed at me. At least someone likes my gift.
“This is really nice,” he said finally, though I got the sense that it wasn’t all he wanted to say.
He gave his focus back to the camera, and I gave mine back to finding some lunch. Ethan’s voice came again just as I pulled a strawberry yogurt out of the fridge.
“There are some pictures already on here. Do you want to delete them or…” He trailed off with an awkward twinge in his tone, and I automatically knew the pictures he was talking about.
“Oh, those are from that Christmas morning like I said. Let me see.”
Strolling over to Ethan, he turned the camera’s screen to face us both. His finger on the button, he clicked over to the first picture.
It was Jonah. He was smiling. He looked so handsome that morning even in his pajamas and bedhead hair.
I remember thinking that morning, after all was said and done with the presents, that I needed to be happy with what I got, even though I didn’t love any of it.
I remember thinking this because Jonah was ‘so good looking’ that I was sure I’d never find anyone as attractive as him to be with me, so I needed to appreciate what I had—even for its flaws.
The structural foundation of every good relationship, I thought.
“That’s him?”
I nodded, still staring at Jonah’s smile.
Ethan’s shoulder brushed mine as he took in a deep breath. “I was right. He does have a shit face.”
I laughed a short laugh, but didn’t feel much better. Most likely sensing my mood, Ethan moved to the next picture.
“Oh, we can skip that one,” I murmured, my cheeks flaming with insecurity.
“What? Why? I’d rather look at you than his shit face.”
“Yeah, but I don’t photograph well. We can just delete that one.”
“What?” Ethan narrowed his eyes down at me. “That can’t be true.”
“Why not?”
His full lips parted to respond, and I tried not to lose my strength and look down at them.
He didn’t make it a very easy thing to do as his eyes stayed nowhere near mine, surveying across my face with a look I just couldn’t quite place.
Eventually, he shook his head with an indiscernible something behind his eyes.
“Just can’t be.”
Well, it is.
“Can you please delete them?” Solemnly, he complied.
My shoulders sank as the next picture was also one of me. “Oh, come on.”
“Why do you look so sad?”
By the gift I was holding in the picture, I knew exactly why I looked so sad. “It just wasn’t a good Christmas is all.”
Ethan said nothing in response and instead, kept staring at me as if he expected me to continue. And thanks to the power Ethan didn’t even know he had over me, the horrid Christmas story was flowing out of me in seconds.
“I got him all of these great gifts—this camera because he had a sudden fascination with photography, a personalized watch, video games he wanted, workout stuff—and all he got me were windshield wiper blades, a car trash can, and two of the exact same travel water bottles. Oh, and a silly card. Not a romantic one like most boyfriends would get their long-term girlfriend for Christmas. He got me a funny card.”
The sadness I felt creeping in around my heart now matched the sadness in my eyes when that picture was taken. It was a candid shot, too. Jonah caught a snapshot of our morning that perfectly encapsulated it all.
“I was upset with how impersonal his gifts were. He could have given those gifts to anyone.” Sorrow filled my now soft voice, and I wished that the heartache brought on by the memories of this picture could be erased as easily as the picture itself.
“There wasn’t a trace of me anywhere on those gifts. ”
Tired of having to look at how sad and pathetic I was—how dumb I was for not seeing that Jonah was ready to leave me even then—I reached up and pressed my thumb overtop of Ethan’s sitting on the ‘delete’ button.
Ethan was already watching me when I turned my head up. His eyes were so pitying it actually hurt my heart.
“So, do you think you’ll use it?” I asked, removing myself back to my yogurt on the countertop.
“Definitely,” he replied. “I already know where I want to go shoot first.”
I shoved a mouth full of yogurt in my mouth. “Where?”
Glancing up at him from across the kitchen, I caught sight of Ethan in the midst of another struggle, but this time I hadn’t a clue what the cause was.
Whatever it was ended in less time than I watched it play out in as Ethan cut his eyes up to mine, almost making me choke on my yogurt with the profound spark added to his stare.
“How about I show you?”