Faking It with My Bossy Ex (Sweet Christmas Kisses)

2. Dylan

Chapter 2

Dylan

I'm still not over her. Not even close.

Eight years might have passed, but Amy hasn’t changed at all. I can hardly pull my eyes away from her, she’s so beautiful.

I glance over. Her green eyes stare out at the snow covered road, her full lips slightly parted. Even under at least one layer of clothes and a clunky sweater, her curves are visible. Her thick winter coat, scarf, and hat, as well as two bright pink gloves, are strewn all over the car.

My hands grip the wheel tighter as the memory hits me like a sucker punch. I can still see her face that day in the park.

I spot Amy waiting for me at our usual bench in the park, her face lighting up as she sees me. That smile twists the knife in my chest. I've rehearsed this a hundred times, but now, faced with her radiant joy, the words feel like glass in my throat.

“Dylan? What's wrong?” Her smile falters, concern creeping into her voice.

I force myself to meet her eyes, knowing it might be the last time I'll allow myself to drown in their warmth. “Amy, we need to talk.”

“Okay … ” Her voice is small, scared.

“I … I think we should break up.” The words taste like ash.

“What? Why?” She's shaking now. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it's not you. It's … ” I can barely get the lie out. “I don't think I'm in love with you anymore.”

The lie burns like acid on my tongue. I watch her face crumple, disbelief and agony warring in her eyes. It takes everything in me not to gather her in my arms and confess the truth.

But I can’t tell her the truth. All I can do is let her go and chase her dream.

“But … but three days ago, you said—”

“I know what I said,” I cut her off. Hating myself. “I've been thinking about this. I got bored. Maybe there's someone else out there who's better for me.”

“Bored?” She whispers. “You're lying. This isn't you, Dylan.”

She knows me too well. I have to end this now, or I'll crumble.

“Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought,” I say, cold as ice. “It's over, Amy.”

I turn and walk away, each step feeling like I'm wading through quicksand. I have to make this breakup convincing. If Amy holds onto any hope, she might sacrifice her dreams to stay with me. I can't let that happen.

Then I see Clara by the park entrance. An idea hits me – awful, but necessary. Clara's always been friendly, maybe too friendly. She and Amy never got along, their personalities just too different. I hate myself for what I'm about to do, but I convince myself it's the only way to make sure Amy moves on.

“Hey, Clara,” I call out, fake smile plastered on. “Free Friday night?”

She lights up, and I feel like the world's biggest jerk. But if Amy sees me with Clara, she'll believe it's over. She'll go to Europe. Chase her dreams.

As Clara's saying yes, I see Amy leaving the park. Our eyes meet. And I watch that last bit of hope in her die.

It's for her own good, even if my heart is shattering into a million pieces.

The silence is deafening. What’s stronger than the silence is the pain, both remembered and current. I want to reach out, to erase the distance between us that I created.

“So, are you still painting?”

I can’t imagine her doing anything else. Her delicate fingers, sweeping a paintbrush over a canvas, watching her work … She used to look ethereal when she was working.

She presses her hands to the heating vents.

“Yes. Are you still with Clara or shopping around for girlfriends?” She looks over at me, studying me, her kissable lips shaped into a judgmental pucker.

Breaking up with her was the hardest decision I've ever made. I did it for her, though. Maybe one day she'll realize there's never been anyone else, not really.

“No, I’m not with Clara.” My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “And I haven’t found the right woman yet. I’ve heard it can take a while.”

How can I find the right woman when I let the only one who matters go?

“Did you finish your second degree? Get a business job?” She presses.

The slope of her neck catches my eye as she tilts her chin up.

“If you must know, I did both,” I smirk and her eyes narrow. I am the CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in New York City, but decide not to bring it up just yet. I’ve spent the last eight years working toward my goal, and it finally paid off.

Being the CEO comes with all the perks I once dreamed of—a penthouse apartment, fancy cars, and everything else I thought would make me happy. But success tastes bitter when there's no one to share it with.

Sometimes I stand in my empty penthouse, looking out at the city lights, and all I can think about is how Amy would've loved the view. Funny how I can have everything and still feel like I have nothing at all.

Snow continues to fall as we make the next turn, and I have to slow down several times and use the wipers so I can see through the snow. The forecast for this week must have been wrong. It said it wasn’t expected to snow till next week.

“Why are you back, Dylan?” she asks. Her slim shoulders fall just half an inch. I hope I make her nervous. That would mean she’s not as unaffected by me as she seems.

“Would you believe me if I said this is where I chose to vacation this year?” My grin widens and I watch her squirm in her seat.

“No,” her eyes narrow and she shakes her head. “Really, why are you here?”

Helping Snowfall Springs to get their own convention center, elevate the town, and create opportunities. That’s why I’m supposed to be here.

Or maybe it’s because I miss what I had with her last time I was here.

No, Amy hasn’t driven what I do for a long time.

You’re the reason you’re not together anymore.

“I'm here for the fundraiser. It's kind of a big thing, you know?” Fundraisers aren’t really my scene. My advisers recommended it be a hands-on sort of thing instead of me throwing a check at the problem. It took some time, but the idea grew on me. Now that Amy’s in the picture, it’s growing on me more.

“It is a big thing, but not something you would be interested in.” She looks me up and down, waiting for an answer, her eyes still narrowed in suspicion.

“Usually, no, I wouldn’t be, but I didn’t have anything better to do.” I grin. “How was Europe?”

She draws in a sharp breath. Her slender fingers fidget with a silver ring I don’t recognize. My eyes bore into it. If they were lasers, it would have melted away. The ring I gave her on our third anniversary is nowhere to be seen.

“It was the best year of my life.” Her chin is still held high, her fiery gaze challenging me to question her statement. I find her standing up for herself incredibly enticing.

I clench my jaw. It’s a good thing it was the best year of her life. She deserves to be happy.

“How long will you be in town?” Her gaze darts over, a cute pout making a brief appearance. Goodness, I miss those expressions.

“Trying to get rid of me already?” I shoot her a dazzling grin.

“You could have picked anywhere else to visit for the holidays. Didn't you think I might be here?” Amy's voice pitches higher.

My throat tightens. Of course, I'd thought about it. I’d imagined running into her, finding her in the town square and picking up right where we left off.

I meet her gaze, drinking in the sight of her. Her eyes remind me of emeralds, now sparking with irritation. If anything, she’s only gotten more beautiful in the last eight years.

“Believe it or not, Ames, I don't live my life trying to avoid you.” The old endearment slips out before I can stop it. She reminds me of fire, so full of life and vibrant colors. I quirk an eyebrow, a hint of challenge creeping into my voice. “Do you live yours trying to avoid me?”

Amy's cheeks flush, and for a split second, something flickers in her eyes. Longing? It's gone too fast for me to be sure.

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, eyebrows snapping into a glare. “And, no, I most certainly don’t.” She leans back into the seat, crossing her arms and gritting her teeth.

My heart thuds against my ribs. There was a time when one look from her made me feel ten feet tall, invincible. Now? It's like I've committed a cardinal sin just by existing in her space.

I flash her my best roguish grin, the one that used to make her roll her eyes and smile.

“Come on, Ames. Snowfall Springs isn't big enough for mortal enemies. Think we can be civil? For old times' sake?” I've missed this. Missed her. And no matter how much she might wish otherwise, we’re stuck with each other, at least as long as we’re in Snowfall Springs.

“No, I don’t. I’ve heard stories of enemies making it work in much smaller towns than Snowfall Springs.” She shrugs, a mask of indifference sliding over her features. It only makes me more determined to poke at her walls.

“What should we do, split the town down the middle?” I lift an eyebrow, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

She glares at me.

“You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you?” She’s back at it, her breaths coming out in little chilly puffs of air.

“That’s what I’m good at. Making you angry has its advantages, like how beautiful you are when you look like you want to kill me.”

Her cheeks flush crimson, and my eyes drop to her lips. I can almost feel them on mine. She still has that effect on me. Eight years, and all it takes is one look to send me hurtling back to that park bench in Snowfall Springs. I can almost taste the strawberry ice cream melting on my tongue, feel the warmth of her hand in mine as we celebrate another year together.

I swallow hard, trying to shake off the memory.

I never planned on seeing Amy again. Didn't trust myself to do the honorable thing and let her go. But now that she's here, in my car, close enough to touch? It's like the universe is playing some cosmic joke on me. And the punchline? I'm actually grateful for it.

I'm the one who walked away. Coming crashing back into her life and reopening old wounds hardly seems fair. But having her here, hearing her voice, her familiar rose perfume tickling my nose–it's intoxicating.

And Snowfall Springs? It's not exactly big enough for us to avoid each other. Not that I'm planning to try.

“You can't say stuff like that,” Amy finally says, her voice barely above a whisper.

I wrack my brain, trying to figure out what, if anything, I said was offensive.

“Stuff like what?”

“That I'm beautiful.” She shifts in her seat, refusing to meet my eyes.

“Ah, I see. So you'd prefer I lie?” I can't help the smirk tugging at my lips. “Sorry darling, but honesty's kind of my thing.” Lying and breaking hearts.

Amy turns to the window, her chin resting on her wrist. “I don't want to know what you think about me.”

“Fair enough.” I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her, to run my fingers through her hair. I’d bet it’s silky smooth.

“I’ll try to remember that you want to hear only lies out of these lips.”

“That's not what I said.” The tiniest of smiles almost wins, pulling at the corner of her lips. Those lips. I force my gaze back to the road before I do something stupid.

“Looks like things here haven’t changed much.” Her voice is brittle, and every inch of her body is like a loaded spring waiting to jump out of the car. My heart sinks when I see the worn sign, ‘Welcome to Snowfall Springs.’ We’re here.

“That’s a good thing. Sometimes change isn’t so good.” Change like letting the girl you’re head over heels in love with walk out of your life. What if I could make her walk back in?

“You can leave me at the bakery.” She points at the familiar turn ahead, completely ignoring my comment.

“Still friends with Laura, then?” That could be a way in. Laura always hated me though, getting help from her would be impossible. Not that I would need any help.

“ We never lost touch.” Amy sits up a little straighter. “Not everyone in this town broke my heart and cut all ties with me like it meant nothing.” Her words are like tiny daggers digging into my skin.

That’s not what happened. I gave her the dream she wanted and ripped my own heart out so she could become the artist she was meant to be. She would have felt trapped if she gave up her painting opportunities just to stay close during my college years. I couldn't let her do that.

I thought I'd made the right call every time I saw those posts online—Amy in Europe, living her dream, that megawatt smile lighting up the screen.

But the sadness etched on her face now punches me right in the gut. All this time, I thought I was doing the right thing by setting her free, and all I want is for her to be happy.

Why is she not happy?

Was I wrong to walk away? Was it wrong to craft a lie to get her to choose happiness?

I glare at the blanket of white snow settled over the town with a black storm cloud over my head. It’s a nostalgic sight. The familiar shops, houses, and buildings. Memories filled with Amy prance around in my head, like nagging mockeries of the past.

We turn the corner down the block, and ‘Laura’s Tasty Treats’ comes into view. I pull up to the front and park the car.

“Thanks for the ride,” she mumbles as she steps out, pulling her colorful coat, scarf, and gloves to her chest as she does. Everything in its place usually calms the demons in my head, but this time, the void black of the back seat cements the cold emptiness of the car.

I jump out, following her to the back and pulling her things from my trunk. My limbs are wooden, and each movement is like walking through mud.

Her cold fingers wrap around the suitcase handles and she turns, her slim figure struggling through the snow toward the bakery.

“Ames,” I call out to her, just like I used to. Her back stiffens and she turns, something unreadable swimming in her gaze.

“I'm glad Europe was good for you.” I hold those emerald eyes with mine for half a second more.

“See you around.” It’s the best I can manage, stuffing my hands into my pockets before I do something stupid like reach for her.

Eight years ago, I convinced myself breaking up with her was the right thing to do. But watching the sadness in her eyes, I don't know if I did more harm than good.