Krystal
“Merry Christmas Eve,” I sigh, throwing my leg over Nick’s body as we lie tangled under the sheets.
The sun is bright, but has no warmth as it streams through the window of my room.
He didn’t leave me to go photograph the morning today, and a tiny bud of hope blooms in my heart that maybe he wants as much of me as he can get before we both have to say goodbye.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Snowflake,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose before stretching his long limbs.
It didn’t feel right, bringing it up yesterday.
It was the anniversary of his son’s death, and the last thing I was going to ask him was, “So, what are we?” My heart thunders behind my ribcage as I work up the courage to start that conversation now, but before I open my mouth, he swings his legs off the side of the bed and heads to the bathroom.
I roll onto my back, spreading my limbs out as I stare at the ceiling.
Maybe he expected this to end.
Maybe he wants it to.
Doom spreads through my gut as I run through the scenario where I ask him what happens next, and he looks at me with confusion knitting his brows together, and a frown on his lips. The toilet flushes, the water runs — stops…runs again.
My heart continues to pound as if it wants to beat its way out of my chest. Maybe I should let him forge the conversation. Maybe this doesn’t have to be a thing.
The smell of Mary’s amazing cooking fills the whole cabin, and while we should be used to it by now, I can almost taste the items that haven’t been on the menu up until now.
Nick rests his hand on my hip, a gesture I’ll miss after we go our separate ways.
He places a gentle kiss on my cheek. “I should go pack my things,” he says.
There’s a moment of stillness as he hovers, as if he’s waiting for me to say something or maybe he’s contemplating saying something himself. But just as I’m about to speak, he leaves, winking at me as I watch him exit the room.
I push a steadying breath through my lips as I continue to apply my makeup, then take a few minutes to make sure all my things are packed as well. My small suitcase stands solitary by the door. The bed is made, everything reset. It’s like we were never here.
Sadness fills my chest and spreads through my body. It’s not just Nick I’ll miss. I think about flying back to New York, back to my lonely apartment. Tears burn the corner of my eyes, and I look at the ceiling to stop them from falling. I knew this was coming, I should have prepared myself better.
My phone buzzes with a notification.
Rae: Let me know what time to get you from the airport
I sigh, resting against the edge of the dresser as I type several responses before deleting them all. I’ll just reply when I’m at the airport, when I’ve accepted that this is really over.
In the living area, everyone is surrounded by the Christmas tree. “What’s going on?” I ask Kendra.
“There are ornaments for us on the tree; we’re supposed to find the one with our names on it. A gift from Gayle and Jiraiya,” she explains.
My chest warms. The Emersons deserve all the success in the world.
The care and intention put into every second of this trip were far beyond anything I could have imagined.
When it’s my turn, I spot the icy, blue ornament with my name tagged on it.
“Wow,” I gasp, twirling it to catch the light.
The indentation reads, “Christmas is Better in Crescent Bay.” A watery smile spreads across my lips as I turn to show Kendra my gift, but my gaze collides with Nick’s instead.
“Look,” I say, holding it up for him to see.
“There’s another one for you,” he nods to the tree.
“What?”
He smirks, “It doesn’t have your name on it, but you’ll know it when you see it.”
I wrinkle my nose, trying to suppress the grin I know is breaking through anyway. After scanning the tree for a minute, I spot it. Tied with a tiny piece of gold string, the tape hangs from a skinny branch. It reads, To: Snowflake From: Santa.
I throw my head back with laughter, snatching the tape from the tree and holding it close to my chest. “Oh my God?” I mouth to him. His smile is devious, but still dripping with the boyish charm I’ve come to love.
Love.
The word echoes in my mind…in my heart.
But it isn’t really love I feel for him, right? It can’t be. It feels like it, but…no. It’s too fast, too soon, we barely know each other, and there’s a possibility that in a few hours, we will never see each other ever again.
“I want whatever you want, Krystal.” His words play across my mind as I hold his gaze.
I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff. Over it, could be the love of my life…Or I could smash into the ground and shatter all over again. I take another deep breath, remind myself that I’ve put my heart back together before, that I can do it again and again.
I have the option to step back, to let whatever this is become a memory. Or I could jump.
I look at my ornaments, look back at him.
“What do you want, Krystal?” I hear his voice in the back of my mind.
Moments from the time we’ve spent together play on a loop in my head.
It might have only been twelve days, but it feels like we’ve built a connection that transcends time.
I want more of that, of him. I want to fall.
I take a step towards him when Gayle steps out of the dining room. “May I have your attention, everyone?” She announces. “Brunch is ready!”
The small crowd hustles into the dining room, stunned by the beautiful tablescape before us.
In addition to the usual: pancakes, waffles, cinnamon rolls, bacon, and eggs, there is a honey-glazed ham, French toast, two types of quiches, and the table seems to go on and on.
The group’s chatter grows louder as we find our seats, marveling at the impressive spread.
My mouth waters, and I’ve suddenly never felt hungrier in my life.
Gayle and Jiraiya stand at the head of the table, holding their mimosas like they’re about to give a toast. “Before we begin,” she starts, “I’d like to thank you all for being here.
This is the first event of this magnitude that we’ve attempted, and it wouldn’t have been successful without your patience, your respect, and your kindness.
There were so many opportunities for things to slip out of place, but because of you, our vision for this retreat came true. ”
Alex starts clapping. Slowly, at first, until the rest of us join in and shower Gayle with applause — even Nick.
“Where I’m from, we always bless the meal before we dig in.
I know that might not be everyone’s style, so don’t feel forced to partake if you don’t want to — but I’m going to pray.
” Her brows jump, and a pleased smile spreads across her face when we all join hands and bow our heads.
I think we all recognize how difficult it must have been for them to pull this off with such a small team.
Not only would I come back to Crescent Bay, I kind of wish I didn’t have to leave in the first place.
After she blesses the meal, we begin sharing plates.
The food tastes just as good as it smells, and I wonder if Mary is open to cooking lessons on an ongoing basis.
I think of my grandmother, who tried to teach me her ways in the kitchen when I was younger — I was never into it.
Being here kind of changed my mind. I want to foster the kind of environment where meals bring people together.
I turn to Nick to tell him I want to take things further, but he’s deep in a conversation with George, so I focus on my meal.
“How is it?” Gayle asks, finally dishing her own plate as she takes the seat beside me.
“Amazing,” I hum, shoveling more of the food into my mouth. “The studio will definitely be seeing more of me in the next few weeks.”
As sad as I am to go, I miss working out.
“You seem different from that first night,” Gayle muses, an understanding smile in her eyes.
I fight the urge to look to the other side of me, at Nick. “I feel a bit different,” I agree.
“What’s next for Krystal?” She asks, her accent making the sound of my name sound new.
My heart stutters. “I don’t know…I definitely don’t want to go back to the way things were. I think I’ll start doing some research on opening my own Pilates studio…consider moving out of New York.”
“Ugh,” Gayle responds, tossing her head back with an excited look in her eye. “We need a locally owned studio here. All we have are classes at the gym and then that God awful Hotworx place.”
I smile at my half-eaten plate.
“What’s it like living here?” I ask.
She looks at me like I’ve asked her the million-dollar question.
I listen intently as she goes on about the town history, the locals, the book club…
and all the other reasons she’s finding it justified to call this place her second home.
My experience was enough for me to build a solid case for moving here one day, but she’s adding more fuel to the fire.
“Oh, are you leaving today? Or are you staying after the retreat?” She confirms.
“My flight is at three,” I sigh.
“Oh!” She exclaims, shaking the dainty gold watch down her wrist to check the time. “If there’s anyone who needs a ride to the airport soon, please get your luggage and leave it in the waiting area!”
A few people excuse themselves from the table, and I guess I should, too. It’s almost noon. Almost time for me to be at the airport.
I get my bag and drop my room key in the bowl at the front desk. It’s now or never. I head back to the dining room, but don’t see Nick.
My stomach twists. My heartbeat trips as I try his room door.
Locked.
I knock, just to make sure he’s not in there. When I hear no response, I rush outside to see if maybe he wanted to take a few pictures before it was time to leave. The snow crunches under my boots as I march through the driveway.
Then, I stop short, turning slowly with tears in my eyes. It seems like my body is always the first to know. My heart refuses to believe he would just…leave. Without telling me goodbye? Without…no, no, no. But the Bronco is gone, and he’s nowhere to be found.
The room spins as I walk up to Kendra. Her face falls when she sees the expression on mine. I don’t even care how I look right now. I swallow against the dryness in my throat before asking, “Have you seen Nick?”
She looks at Rita, who looks at me. “He…he left. Said he had to return his rental. You…you didn’t know?”
I swipe a hand over my face before storming back into the front yard. The world fades to black and white as I find a quiet place and allow myself to cry. I stay there until my nose becomes numb from the cold, and my fingers start to hurt.
I take another deep breath.
Another Christmas Eve…
I watch my trembling hands as the thoughts creep in. I should never have allowed myself to go there with him in the first place. What was I thinking? That I would have a holiday fling and it would turn into more? That he would want to be with me after I talked about my ex the whole time?
I shake my head, wipe my tears.
He never told me he wanted anything else.
Neither did I. And I still had a good time, didn’t I?
His not being here doesn’t change the way I felt on the trip, or how I feel about this town, these people.
I’m grateful to him for being exactly what I needed.
And now, I get to choose the version of myself that I can continue to become.
It stings to know I wanted so much more of him, and that he apparently didn’t feel the same way. I’ll still look back on these memories with him with all the fondness I felt before he left. I’ll still cherish every second that we got to spend together.
Maybe forever isn’t what we were meant to be.