6. Zane

SIX

ZANE

Y esterday, when my dad casually mentioned Evangeline, I knew I’d end up at Reindeer Ridge Farm. I hadn’t even set out to bring Caryn here. In fact, I planned to avoid this place at all costs. Yet, as I started driving and Caryn mentioned something about shopping, it was like my mind immediately turned my SUV in the direction of the Christmas tree farm nestled between two covered bridges.

I don’t know why I didn’t think about the consequences of seeing Evangeline again. Not only to her, and how I left things, but to me as well. Leaving her was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life, and at night when I can’t sleep, I grapple with what I did to her.

And what I’d done to us.

I promised her I’d be home every Thursday and didn’t even make it the first week without breaking my promise. Same with the second and so on. After a month, she stopped taking my calls, packed my shit and took it back to my dad’s. And then she did the ultimate kiss off and changed her number. The day I called her expecting to get her voicemail, I got nothing. My calls failed and my text messages went from blue to green.

Not letting this deter me, I went to our apartment in Boston and waited outside for her to come home. Hours later, I finally knocked on the door, only to have a guy answer.

“No one by that name lives here,” he told me.

“How long have you lived here?”

“A couple of weeks.”

Evangeline had moved. She left the apartment we had fallen in love with because of my actions. There wasn’t anything I could do. I had no idea where she went, and I knew her parents weren’t going to tell me. I took my sorry ass back to New York City, asked Mr. Bamford if he had any pull to transfer my last class to Columbia—he did—and I buckled down, working my tail off to get a job offer from him.

The times I spoke to my dad it was clear he was angry at me for what I had done. I didn’t blame him. I deserved it. After a while, I would call once a month, then once every couple of months. He never asked about graduation and genuinely didn’t seem to care. Deep down, I knew this wasn’t true, that I wore rose-colored glasses because Mr. Bamford took me under his wing and showed a small-town kid exactly what the big city offered.

Now, here I am, watching my ex when my thoughts should be on my fiancée. It’s like everything happens in slow motion. Caryn’s voice is muffled, like she’s underwater, while Ev’s is crystal clear. Ever the professional, Evangeline greets her newest visitor just as Caryn makes it known she’s with me. The look my ex gives me turns my insides to stone. Again, deserving. If I were Evangeline, I’d kick me off the property, but she would never embarrass her parents or the farm like that. Besides, I was the ass for showing up here. I knew better.

I can’t take my eyes off Eve as she stalks past me, giving me a death glare. I miss when Caryn slips in the mud, falling on her rear. Her legs splay out in front of her, while her tight skirt keeps her legs pinned to the ground. I don’t know how long it takes me to realize she’s on the ground, her backside and hands covered in mud, but it’s long enough for Caryn to give me her version of a death glare.

Honestly, I should probably walk off into the sunset at this point.

When I look back on today, it’s going to be one of those moments where I learned to do the right thing. The problem is, doing the right thing may also end up being the wrong thing.

As fast as my feet take me, I’m by Caryn’s side. Tears of anger and humiliation stream down her face.

“Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” she snaps.

“I didn’t mean?—”

“Why is there mud? Where’s the pavement?”

“This is a farm.” I look at her heels and mutter under my breath. “I suggested you change your shoes earlier.”

“It’s not my shoes’ fault there’s mud, Zane.”

Who am I to argue?

Before I pull Caryn to her feet, Evangeline is at Caryn’s side, pushing me out of the way.

“Hey there,” Eve says softly and with such compassion. My memory serves me well, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened here. “I’m Evangeline.”

As soon as Eve says her name, my somewhat softening insides are back to hard, rigid stone. Caryn throws daggers at me. We’ve never talked about Evangeline in the years we’ve been together. Caryn never wanted to know about my past girlfriends, saying they were in the past for a reason. Except my father made it very clear Evangeline meant something to him and my mother.

Eve doesn’t seem to catch on or care. “Come on, let’s get you on your feet and cleaned up.” She helps Caryn stand, knocking my hand away when I offer help. My ex guides my fiancée into the shack and toward the back. I stay there, taking everything in and how it’s changed over the years. It’s much warmer, more homely, and more like a store than a place to seek some semblance of warmth during the tree selling season.

“I suggest you make yourself useful if a customer comes in,” Evangeline says to me before disappearing through a doorway.

As tempted as I am to follow, I stay where I am, afraid she, being Evangeline, may bite my head off. Literally. I’ve done enough to piss her off for the rest of her life and today has only added insult to the wounds I left behind. In hindsight, I should’ve called and told my dad I was coming so he could warn Evangeline.

While the ladies are in the back, likely plotting my demise, I go back outside and shake the snow off the trees, stand a few upright, and add wreaths to the missing hooks. When a customer pulls in, I greet them, and surprisingly remember everything Mr. Holcomb ever taught me about trees and tell the customer what they need to know.

“Zane?”

I turn at the sound of my name to find the man who welcomed me into his home as his own—the man who could’ve been my father-in-law—had I not screwed everything up.

“Mr. Holcomb,” I say, unsure if I should be happy to see him, give him a hug, or stand there and accept the punishment I’m definitely due.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

Punishment is definitely coming my way.

“Uh, no sir. I . . . uh . . .

He nods.

The door to the shack opens. Caryn steps out looking rather pissed, and heads right to the car without saying a word to me. She’s wearing sweatpants, something I’ve never seen her in, and a pair of boots that I know aren’t hers. The bag she carries dangles from her fingers. Once I get into the car, she’ll let me have it. This I’m sure of.

As soon as she’s walked up the small incline and out of sight, Mr. Holcomb clears his throat. It’s not one of those I’d like attention clearing of throats, but more of a what in the hell is going on? gruff one. I hang my head in shame, embarrassment coursing through me, and in utter disgust with myself.

“Anyway,” Evangeline says. “I’m going to load up the truck and take an order to Whitaker’s,” she says to her dad. “Bernie called and said he needed some more trees, which is why I’m here.”

“Me too.” The lie is out of my mouth before I can stop it. “I came to help.”

“I don’t need your help, Zane,” Evangeline says this without even looking at me. She grabs the nearest tree and carries it to the red truck with wooden slats. Everyone in town loves this truck. If you see it out and about, you know Reindeer Ridge is making a delivery of either their trees, wreaths, or maple syrup. Most importantly, it delivers Santa to the annual Christmas party for the kids, as well as the town Christmas tree and the grand marshal for the town tree lighting.

“Evangeline—”

“Zane, I think you should go,” Mr. Holcomb says. “You’ve helped enough.”

I hang my head, nodding. He’s right. I have. As I pass by the rows of trees, I take one in each hand and carry them to the truck, where Evangeline is. She doesn’t look at me or even acknowledge my existence. Not that I blame her.

“Can we talk later?”

“No, I’m busy. ”

“Tomorrow then?”

“Busy.”

“Eve, I’d really like?—”

She takes one of the trees from me and gently sets into the back of the truck. “I’d like a lot of things, Zane. But like in life, we don’t always get what we want.” Evangeline leaves me there, holding the other tree. I set it in the back of her truck, take a long glance at her, and head up the drive to where my fiancée sits in the SUV.

Today will go down in the Book of Zane as one I wish I could have a re-do of. Sadly, at this point in my life, there’s a long list of days I need to re-do.

My hand rests on the handle, and I take a deep breath before opening the door, climbing in and shutting the door behind me. The house I shared holiday dinners in, made out with Eve in, and sort of grew up in, looms in front of me. Battery operated candle lights sit in the windows, likely to come on around five in the evening if I remember correctly.

Also at five, the house will light up with white lights, and with red-and-white lights in the shrubs out front, and on the wooden sleigh in the front yard.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Eve climbing the stairs in the backyard to the house. If I remember correctly, she’ll walk into the family room, through the kitchen, and down the hall to her bedroom or bathroom. Assuming she even lives there.

Caryn sighs next to me. My mind scrambles to find the words I should say right now. Starting off with I’m sorry or are you okay doesn’t seem like the smartest thing to do. Instead, I start the car, reverse out of the parking lot, and head toward the Inn. Caryn’s social meter on today’s activities has reached a maximum. I’m smart enough to realize this.

When I park at the Inn, she doesn’t wait for me to open the door for her or check to see if I’m following. I do though, knowing full well I owe her an explanation.

Thankfully, the innkeeper isn’t looming when we walk inside. At the top of the stairs, we turn right and head down the hallway to the room on the end, the one with the en-suite bathroom and walk-in closet.

Caryn opens the door, dumps her bag of dirty clothes in the trash, and heads right to the bathroom. I sit on the bed and wait for her to return.

Thirty minutes later, she comes out with her icy blond hair wet and towel dried.

“I’ve known Evangeline my entire life,” I start, even though Caryn isn’t paying attention to me. “We began hanging out with each other after her brother passed away. By high school, we were dating and were a couple until I left to take the internship with your dad.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s meant to give you some insight into my life.”

“You could’ve told me about her.”

“You’re right, I should’ve. Believe me, I tried. When you and I started dating, there was a day in particular when I felt off. I almost left and came home that day, but I didn’t.”

“Is she the reason we’re here?”

It doesn’t escape my notice that she doesn’t ask about the day I’m referring to. I shake my head. “We’re here for my dad.”

“Who loves Evangeline?”

I nod. “Everyone in town loves her.”

“Including you?”

“No,” I tell her, although technically we’re not in town.