20. Walker

Walker

" W hy are you so mopey?" My sister is not really that helpful, but her smile is kind as she hands me some of mom's eggnog and sits next to me on the couch. I'm watching the fire crackle in the fireplace as the kids run around.

Mom is trying her best to get them settled, but there's no way that's happening yet. It's still pretty early on Christmas Eve. "I'm not mopey." I so am. And it's so not like me, so I get why my sister is asking, even though she knows deep down why I'm not myself right now.

Everyone here knows.

I had to drop Dutton off at the airport yesterday. I spent so much energy trying to be okay and upbeat for him that today I just don't have it in me. I wanted to beg him to stay.

How pathetic is that?

We've known each other a few months, and yes, I do love him with my whole heart. But am I gonna have a breakdown over him not spending Christmas with my family? Yeah. I couldn't do it.

It wouldn't have been fair to him. He's an incredible photographer. I've never seen photos like his before. It doesn't matter what he's taking a picture of, he somehow adds depth and soul to every single picture.

And even I knew how important this shoot is to him and his career. He pretty much spelled that out for me.

"You are." My sister nudges me. "Why didn't you just go with him?"

Because he didn't ask me. Which wouldn't have made sense either. It's fine. I'm totally fine. Fine, fine, fine. We haven't been dating that long, and he's just going on a work trip.

I wouldn't have wanted to tag along for that anyway. And my family—Christmas is always really fun, and I wouldn't have wanted to miss it.

Except I would have. I would have gotten on my first plane ever and missed the holiday with my family because that's how attached I already am.

"It's just two days," I say lamely, and of course, my sister isn't buying it. Not at all.

"Two days of watching you mope around here. Yay for us," she says sarcastically.

"I'm not moping, and he's going there for work. It's just business. He doesn't come along with me when I'm on a job."

She nudges me with her shoulder, barely making my much larger body budge. "I bet you'd take him, though, if he asked. And I bet you two would have a blast together. Maybe he'd even sit on your lap when you drive your tractor around."

I snort. "I'm not on the mowing crew."

"Fine. He could help hold your hose while you water the bushes."

"Oh my God, stop." I look over at her husband, who has one happily screeching kid hanging by the ankles. "Come get your wife. She's drunk."

He chuckles. "Hell no. She's your problem for the next two days." He just leaves, his daughter squealing gleefully as he carries her away.

"Ha ha. He loves me more than you," my obnoxious sister says loudly in my ear.

"Sure, that's what that all meant," I tease and then lose the smile because it was mostly fake anyway. "I miss him, but it's just two days. And today is almost over."

Even though he was on my mind the entire day. He did check in when his plane landed last night and then when he woke up this morning, but I'm sure he's been really busy ever since then.

One of the kids needs their mom, and she hops up, off to the rescue, and thankfully, I get a moment of peace. One that doesn't last long because, of course, Archie plops right down next to me. His parents suck. They just do, so my parents pretty much adopted him in high school.

It's tradition for him to stay the night on Christmas Eve, just like I do, even though we both live in town. He lays his head on my shoulder dramatically, and I can smell the rum he or my dad used to spike his eggnog. Every. Year.

"Drunk?"

"Nah. Just tipsy, though your dad did add a smidge more this year."

I laugh at that because some things never change.

"Missing your man?"

I sigh heavily, not wanting to talk about it. "I'm not the only one. Did you see my mom's face when I showed up alone, even though I had given her the heads-up?"

He cackles happily at that, just like he did then. "I know. She thought it was an adorable little prank. Pretty sure she loves your man even more than you."

"Thanks, friend," I deadpan.

"It's just two days. He'll be home soon."

Except it's not his home. And there's the problem—the thing that makes my gut twist uncomfortably and the room spin because I'm so unsteady right now. "What if he doesn't come back?"

"When did you become so whiny?"

I roll my eyes, but I can't help but laugh because this is so not me. He sits up and then pats my shoulder with his hand—hard. "He'll come back. You gave him something to come back to."

"I can't compete with LA and the bright and shiny shit. I like it simple. He knows that. Maybe I'm too simple for him."

He shakes his head and squeezes my shoulder. "Nah. You're wrong. And as someone who's never wrong, I can tell you that. You're wrong. I'm right. And he will come home."

My heart pinches in my chest, and I can't help but look at my phone, just waiting to see if he's going to message me. It's early in LA, but it's been quiet all day. He's busy.

I know that.

He's working, and that's a good thing, but I can't help feeling heartbroken that he hasn't checked in once.

Of course, I didn't either because I didn't want to bug him. Surely he knows that he wouldn't be bugging me though.

Shit. This relationship thing is hard.

W hen the kids finally wind down, it's just us adults in the living room. Mom and Dad play Santa, like they do every year, filling stockings and placing presents under the tree. I can't help checking my phone over and over, but Dutton doesn't message me.

It's sad and pathetic, and I've never been that guy before. But I also don't think I've ever been in love before. I don't feel like I've lost any part of my identity when he's around. I just enjoy being with him. I want to spend all my free time with him.

But even I know that not everyone is like that. I know I could ruin this by being too clingy, and I need to chill.

So when I climb into my childhood bed and see that there's no message on my phone from Dutton, it takes everything inside me, but I don't send him a message before I try like hell to drift off to sleep.

Still, he's the last thought on my mind, and all I can hope is that he's thinking about me too.