Chapter 6

Tom

“ K rysten, I’m home.” I walk in the door, holding the bottle of champagne I picked up on my way home. “Ready to celebrate?”

An empty house greets me. None of the lights are on, not even the Christmas tree, which is strange. It’s the first thing Krysten turns on in the morning and the last thing she turns off before heading upstairs at night. If it weren’t for her irrational fear of setting my house on fire, I’m sure she’d leave it on all night.

Tonight, it’s me lighting the tree and switching on the living room light. When I walk into the kitchen and flip the switch, I see the envelope on the breakfast bar, propped up by two Santa coffee mugs. My name is scrawled across the envelope in large letters.

Tom,

Merry Christmas and congratulations on the promotion. I’m glad our little ruse worked. I decided to go visit my dad for the holidays, after all. Thanks again for giving me a place to stay. Wishing you and your family happy holidays.

Krysten.

“What is this? No explanation, no chance to talk about this?” I stare at the letter in disbelief. We got close these past few days. I almost kissed the woman. And at the first sign of an argument—if you could call it that—she ran?

I was not about to let her get away with that. Not after I’d spent all afternoon crafting and rehearsing my speech about how this thing we had had nothing to do with me and my ex. It has taken me longer than it should have, but I’ve realized that Mindy and I weren’t right for each other. But Krysten and I. We have something. Something special. And I’m not ready to let that go.

I pull my phone out of my jacket pocket along with the stack of index cards that were meant to help me stay on track and find the right words to explain what I was feeling.

“Tom.” Krysten sounds surprised when I call her cell.

“I read your note. Where are you? I think we need to talk about this,” I say, doing my best to keep my tone casual.

“There’s nothing to talk about. You got your promotion, and I still haven’t found a job. I figure it’s best if I go see my dad and his family in Alabama. It’ll be nice to spend the holidays with them, watch my half-siblings open presents.”

“You don’t mean that. Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.” I hear a loudspeaker in the background announcing a bus for Memphis leaving in thirty minutes.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Listen, my bus is about to leave. I have to run. Merry Christmas.” She hangs up before I can get another word in.

I stare at my phone in disbelief. She can’t do this. She can’t just walk away and leave me to celebrate my promotion by myself. She can’t walk out on me on Christmas Eve.

She can’t walk out on me, period. Not when I finally figured out that I love her.

She’s not walking away from me. Not like this. Not without all the cards on the table.

Forty, fifty, sixty miles per hour. I’m way over the speed limit, determined to make it to the bus depot before she leaves. By a sudden turn of luck, I find a parking space right in the front. I run to the information desk, eyes darting throughout the space, looking for her.

“Where’s the bus to Alabama?” I ask the older man sitting behind the counter.

He looks at his watch. “It left ten minutes ago. I’m guessing they’re about to leave town.” I’m back in my car within seconds, throwing into reverse and heading toward the highway leading west out of town.

I push the pedal to the metal and pray I don’t get stopped for speeding. I have a lot of ground to make up. My mind whirls. All I can think of is reaching the bus and stopping her from leaving. There’s no room to think of anything else. The needle of the speedometer inches farther and farther to the right.

Finally, I spot the lights of a large vehicle down the dark-and-empty highway. This time it isn’t another eighteen-wheeler carrying one last load before Christmas. This time it’s a bus, and I pray it’s hers.

I flash my headlights and lay on the horn, pulling up beside the bus until the driver pulls over.

“What the?”

“Thanks for stopping. I’m looking for someone.” I brush past him and stride through the bus, eyes darting from one side of the aisle to the other.

“Tom? What are you doing here?” Krysten stands up, and our eyes connect.

The bus, its passengers, and the driver behind me fade away. All I can see is her.

“I don’t want you to leave,” I say, closing the distance between us. “I love you, Krysten. Please come home with me.”

“You do?” Her eyes are wide, her mouth slightly open, drawing all my attention to the lips I’ve been dying to kiss since that night it almost happened. I haven’t been brave enough, but now there’s nothing to lose and everything to gain.

“I do.” I pull her close and kiss her. There’s no caution, no hesitation. This isn’t a sweet first kiss. This is me communicating my desperation.

She doesn’t pull back, doesn’t push me away. Instead, she matches my urgency, wrapping her hands around my neck and pulling me closer.

It’s the sounds of cheers and whistles that finally break through the haze and bring me to my senses.

I back up the tiniest bit, keeping a hand on Krysten’s waist, not willing to let go of her completely. I scan her face carefully, anxious about what I would read in it. It couldn’t be worse than that letter. Except it could.

To my relief, I don’t read rejection. Instead, her cheeks are pink, her lips red and a bit swollen, and her expression is an intoxicating mix of embarrassment and joy. It’s the best present I could have asked for.

“Does that mean you’ll spend Christmas with me?” I ask.

The entire bus grows silent. Krysten doesn’t say a word. After a second that spreads into eternity, she nods and grabs her bags from the overhead compartment.

We exit the bus to a round of applause. Even the driver doesn’t look like he’s ready to call the police anymore.

“Merry Christmas,” I call out to everyone and lead the woman who has walked into my house and into my heart to my car.