Page 35 of The Christmas Mistake

I pause.

“What?”

Nicholas stares at me, unblinking. “You called me a Grinch last year because I told you I hate Christmas. Do you want to know why I loathe this time of year? I’m sure you’ve been wondering.”

I place my bottle down on the bar and turn to face him. I wonder if this has something to do with what happened today.

Maybe his interaction with James has got him to open up about things. I’m definitely intrigued.

“Why do you hate Christmas, Nicholas?”

“Something happened to me on Christmas Eve a long time ago, back when I was a kid. Just ten years old. I was involved in an accident. A car accident.”

“Oh, Nicholas. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I was being driven by my parents. There was a truck. My dad, who was behind the wheel, didn’t see it until it was too late. It was all the truck driver’s fault, he ran a red light, but that doesn’t change what happened. Both of my parents… didn’t make it.”

He says it so dispassionately, but my heart still breaks for him. It’s like he’s simply recounting facts and not the most tragic incident of his life. “Nicholas…”

“I was left an orphan, taken to a lot of adoption places. I was moved around a lot. A whole lot of different homes over the course of a few years. I didn’t get to barely know the names of my guardians before I would be shuttled around to the next home. It wasn’t the best childhood, to say the least, but I got myself out of there. I made myself independent. I studied. Worked hard. Went into finance. And now I have a good job. I’ve got a good life, but Christmas will forever be associated in my memories as the night my parents were taken from me. Christmas Eve means one thing to me, and that’s pain. The worst kind of pain. And that’s why I hate Christmas, Chastity. That’s why I’m the Grinch. That’s why I helped that boy today, because I know what it’s like to lose the people closest to you at Christmas. I know what it’s like to learn to skateboard on your own. I can reverse that for James. I can’t be a brother to him, but I can be the kind of help and support I would wish about when I was his age.”

And that’s when I lean over and kiss him.

He looks so vulnerable in this moment, so much like the little boy he once was who was made an orphan too soon, that I just can’t help myself.

He’s startled at first, but then he pushes into my kiss. I wasn’t even thinking when I act. It takes me a moment to realize what I’ve done, but it feels right. So right.

And I just know by the way he’s touching my lips that Nicholas is feeling the same thing.

But then he’s pulling away, and I know something’s wrong.

“Remember that pinky promise,” he whispers. “Remember what we swore about a year ago.”

“That was only about not talking of last Christmas,” I reply. I don’t realize until now how desperately I want his lips on mine. “It was not about us rekindling that night.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t do this, Chastity.” He speaks through gritted teeth.

His words are like daggers in my heart.

I nod. Slowly. I don’t know what to do with myself, so I take another sip of beer.

“I’ve been drinking anyway,” I say, pointing at the bottle. “It was a silly thing to do. I’m just a bit tipsy, that’s all.”

“Yep.”

He’s cold. So cold.

“I think I better go,” I say. I can’t be here anymore, not in this awkward silence. I quickly grab my stuff and head out of the bar, not daring to look Nicholas in the eye. I can’t bear to let him see the pain I’m feeling.

I’m proud of the fact that I don’t begin to cry until I reach my car.

I don’t know if I imagine it, but I think I hear Nicholas softly calling out goodnight to me as I leave.

16

NICHOLAS

I wanted to kiss Chastity last night, I really did.