That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe (Abieville Love Stories #4)

Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Sara

“Sare-Bear!” Bristol’s face fills the screen and a massive smile hijacks her face. Until she gets a load of me and my poor tear-streaked cheeks. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

“Not too much,” I snuffle.

She frowns so deep I’m afraid the crease might slice her skull. “Is it Three? Do you need me to fly there tonight to beat him up? I’ll totally cancel my plans.”

“You can’t do that.” I throw myself backward on the bed, holding the phone up above my face.

“I’m not even kidding,” she says. “I mean, I probably couldn’t actually get a flight on such short notice, but I would blow off my date if you want to talk. In fact, I’m going to text the guy right now. We’ve never even gone out before, so I don’t need to?—”

“No, don’t cancel.” I sniffle and flip over onto my stomach. “Maybe just stay on the phone with me until you have to leave?”

“Of course.” Bristol tips her head, and her blonde bob swings across her chin. “So what’s going on? Did Three do something awful? ”

I glance at the shut bedroom door. “Right now, he’s in the kitchen washing all the dishes and cleaning up after dinner.”

“Okaaaay.” Bristol processes the information, then her frown softens. “I’m sorry, Sara, but that kind of sounds like heaven in a man.”

“I know.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“He just shared something with me. About the past. And I don’t know if it’s true, or if it’s just some warped version of reality that makes him feel better about what happened with us.”

“Got it.” Bristol nods. “So what does your gut tell you?”

I chew my lip. If I had the answer to that I probably wouldn’t have spent the past five minutes crying. “A part of me wants to believe him,” I say, “because that would mean he really did love me at one point. But the other part …” My breath catches.

“Hold on.” She props her phone on the vanity and pulls her stool out from under the counter. “This sounds like a long story.”

“It is!” I let out a hiccup-y breath. “And your inoculation totally wore off!”

Bristol sends me a small, sympathetic smile. “There’s plenty more where that came from, my friend. If you need it. But I’ll need more details if I’m going to help you. Do you mind if I put on my makeup while we talk?”

“Of course not.” I snuffle and snarf, scrambling back into a seated position at the edge of the bed. “At least one of us should look beautiful tonight.”

“Stop right there with that nonsense. You’re gorgeous.” She peers into the screen. “In fact, you’re … oddly glowing. What’s that all about?”

“That’s not a glow.” I puff out a weak laugh. “It’s just redness from all the crying.” Plucking a tissue from the box on the nightstand, I swipe at my wet cheeks then blow my nose, a sad little honk.

“Wait.” Her eyes dip, surveying the rest of me. “Are you wearing your green dress right now? ”

“Uh-huh.” Another nod and sniffle from me.

“That’s my favorite.”

“Mine too,” I groan.

“But why did you even have that dress in Abieville?” Bristol narrows her eyes. “Did you bring it just in case you ran into Three?”

“I just wanted to feel pretty.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “And then … and then …” I let my sentence trail off.

“Breathe,” Bristol says. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. But I think you need to start from the very beginning and tell me everything.”

So I do.

While she drags a contouring stick along her cheeks, draws perfect wings across her lids, and brushes mascara over her lashes, I recount everything that’s happened with Three since the concussion. She hears about Henry, our snowman. The Christmas tree farm. Getting trapped in the storage room. Ryan Detweiler. Three’s grilled cheese sandwich. Sully’s spray paint.

Everything.

Especially the kisses.

Telling Bristol about these moments—about the connection Three and I still share—helps to loosen the tightness in my chest. I’m almost feeling a little clearer. Until I get to tonight.

Then I picture Three’s soft eyes and I hear the echo of what he thinks he overheard, and the confusion ricochets right back in again.

“So what are you thinking now?” Bristol asks, while she fills in her brows. “Do you believe he’s telling the truth about your parents?”

“I believe he believes it.” A tentative sigh skitters out of me. “And I’m just hoping my mom and dad didn’t mean any of the harm they caused. But either way, I’m going to have to talk to them. If I’ve learned anything these past few days, it’s that not sharing your feelings is a mistake.”

“All right then.” She slicks on a layer of lip gloss.” Let’s assume Three really wants a second chance with you. Is that something you’d want, too?”

“I don’t know.” My heartbeat accelerates, and I lay a hand to my chest and press. “I mean, he’s still the same kind, generous person I fell in love with a decade ago, except now he’s a man. A man with a solid career. A man who matters to this town. A man whose goodness and worthiness I’d stack up against anyone else on this earth.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“His whole life is here in Abieville. His family. His school. His students.”

“And?”

“And.” I gulp. “I’m about to accept a full-time position at Hathaway Cooke. My dad’s a founding partner. We’ve been planning for me to follow in his footsteps my whole life.”

“Interesting.” Bristol blots her lips. “You said, ‘ We’ve been planning.’”

“It’s not just my dad. I’ve always had the same goal.”

“Okay. But is working for your dad’s firm still your dream?”

I pause for a moment, considering her question. Considering my answer. “I love the law, and I love justice,” I say. “I know the legal system is flawed, but I want to do my part to make it better, you know?” I tip my chin. “So yes, I want to be an attorney. And I want that for myself. I’m not just doing it for my father.”

“Good answer.” Bristol smiles at me. “So where does that leave Three, then? If you accept the job, you’ll have to stay in the city, but that’s only about three hours away. Can’t you swing that?”

I swallow hard. “The distance isn’t what I’m worried about.”

“Then what is?”

“Three hurt me more than anyone else ever has.” I shudder as the memory seeps through me. “Am I crazy to trust him again?”

“Maybe.” Her shoulders hitch. “So stop worrying about him and start trusting yourself.”