CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
AMBER
His melodic knock made me jump from my seat.
When I opened, my heart sped up a bit. He was dressed to the nines in black trousers and a fitted, sage green sweater with a collared shirt underneath. His sleeves were rolled up, displaying an expensive-looking watch I’d never seen on him.
Rory had come straight from the airport to my house. His blond hair was perfectly gelled, and he’d grown out his beard a little. His blue eyes were glowing. Honestly, he’d never looked better.
He was holding a white poinsettia plant and reached it out to me. “This is for you.”
I took it and placed it on a table. “Thank you.”
It was weird to not be greeting him with a hug or kiss, but we were both holding back for obvious reasons.
His eyes were piercing. “You look really pretty,” he said, slipping his hands slowly into his pockets.
“So do you.”
He squinted. “I look pretty? Not exactly what I was going for.”
“You know what I mean. Handsome.” Shaking my head, I said, “I’m not really thinking straight.”
The awareness of Rory’s signature Kenneth Cole Reaction cologne immediately brought me a little sense of comfort, reminding me of times when life was far simpler.
“Yeah. You’re nervous. It’s weird to see you this nervous around me. Try not to be. It’s freaking me out a little.” He placed his hand on my arm. “It’s just me, Amber.” His touch definitely didn’t go unnoticed.
“I feel like I’m on my first date with you all over again.”
“How about we not focus on all of the complicated shit for one day? The last thing I want to do is think about the past week. Just be with me. Let’s enjoy Christmas. Plus, Boris has the best booze. It’s like a geriatric bar up in there.” He flashed a crooked smile that was contagious.
Maybe living in denial was the best way to handle this evening. Rory was not about to acknowledge Channing anyway. Aside from the first night he’d discovered that Channing and I were together, he hadn’t so much as mentioned his name. I knew it was too painful for him.
“Well, I can definitely get behind good booze.” I smiled.
“Good.”
We made our way out of the condo. Rory’s car was already running when we got outside. His heated seats felt so good against my bottom.
It was completely quiet for the first five minutes of our drive.
Suddenly, Rory pressed some buttons and The Chipmunk Song came on. He knew that song always cracked me up. The Chipmunk Song: Don’t Be Late as performed by Alvin and the Chipmunks was my ultimate favorite Christmas tune.
I didn’t know if it was my stress-level as of late or what, but I just lost it and began to laugh so hard that I was practically crying. Those high-pitched voices were just the medicine I needed.
When the song finished, I wiped my eyes and turned to him. “Thank you for that.” Hiccup.
Oh, no. I’d laughed so hard, I’d given myself the hiccups.
“Hiccups are here! Christmas just got better,” Rory teased.
“I’m sorry.” I laughed.
“For what?” He glanced over at me while still trying to keep his eyes on the road. “I love your hiccups.”
Something about the way he’d said it squeezed at my chest, like he was really trying to tell me he loved me, not my hiccups.
“I downloaded the whole Chipmunks album if you want to listen to more,” he said. “We could just put it on a constant loop, get drunk, and forget the past year ever happened.”
“Wouldn’t that be something?”
That was an interesting thought. If I could erase the past year, would I? A part of me wished I could go back to the simplicity of the way things were before the break-up. But another part knew I would never trade the time I had with Channing for anything.
“So, who’s gonna be there tonight?” I asked.
“Boris, his daughter, Stephanie, her husband, Mitchell, and their daughter, Sophie.”
“Wow, okay. I wasn’t sure if it was just gonna be him and us.”
“He’s normally alone. They live in Connecticut, but they’re obviously here for Christmas. They’re spending the night at his place.”
My breath was visible as we stepped out of Rory’s BMW and onto the sidewalk in front of his house. Thankfully, my hiccups had subsided.
I could see Boris and his family through the window. Snowflakes were starting to fall. It was going to be a white Christmas after all.
When the door opened, Boris greeted me with welcoming arms. “There she is…the famous Amber. I’ve heard a lot about you, darlin.’ We only have two rules in this house. You make yourself at home, and you leave your troubles behind.”
“Well, this sounds like exactly the kind of place I need tonight.”
Rory took my coat, and I followed Boris into the kitchen.
“Rory told me you’re a Cosmo girl,” he said.
It didn’t register at first. “A what?”
“The drink. You like it, right? I had Stephanie pick up the ingredients from the liquor store to make you some.”
“Oh! The drink. Yes, it’s my favorite. That was really nice of you, Boris.”
Rory put his hand on Boris’ shoulder. “Thank you.”
Stephanie came rushing into the kitchen. She was wiping her hand on her pants so she could extend it to me. “Sorry…peanut butter hands. I’m Stephanie. You must be Amber.”
“So nice to meet you.”
Stephanie kissed Rory on the cheek. It was clear that they considered him like family.
After she introduced me to her husband and daughter, we sat around the living room enjoying our drinks and the appetizers that were laid out on the table.
The artificial Christmas tree was lit up with piles of presents underneath, and holiday music was playing on low volume.
At one point, Stephanie announced that it was time for the annual people decorating tradition. She divided the room into three teams: Boris and Sophie, herself and Mitchell, and Rory and me. The object of the game was that one person would decorate the other like a Christmas tree. Rory volunteered to be the tree for our team.
Stephanie gave out scissors, construction paper, tinsel, foil, tape, and little jingly balls. Each team had ten minutes to decorate their person.
Stephanie would then post pictures on her Facebook page and let her friends decide the winning team.
Rory was a good sport as I wrapped him up like a present. We would laugh every time pieces of paper or tinsel would fall off of him. Our eyes would lock, and for fleeting moments, I would neglect to remember that he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore. With just the right amount of alcohol in me and this fun holiday game, it was becoming easier to forget the heartbreaking situation I’d gotten myself into.
The game finished, and Sophie ended up taking the prize. Afterward, we all sat around the living room again for coffee and dessert. It was really hard not to love these people; they were warm and welcoming.
Rory was being very quiet, overall. He’d steal glances at me as he ate his pie, but we were both pretty much letting everyone else take control of the conversations.
“Let me tell you something about your Rory,” Stephanie said as she pointed her cheesecake-laden fork at me. My Rory. “He’s a saint. He is so gosh darn good to my dad. I don’t know what I would do if he wasn’t looking after him. I used to worry so much, but with Rory upstairs now, I don’t have to.”
Rory smiled. “Well, he hasn’t kicked me out of the house yet, so…”
She looked at me. “You have an amazing boyfriend there.”
The expression on his face dampened. Clearly, Stephanie assumed we were together. I was surprised she didn’t know, since Rory mentioned he told Boris everything.
Rory looked unsure of whether to correct her then said, “We’re not together anymore, actually.”
A look of embarrassment washed over Stephanie’s face. “Oh…I’m sorry. I just assumed…” She turned to her father. “Dad, you told me they were together.”
“I didn’t say that. I said…she was his love.”
The room went still for a moment.
She looked over at me and seemed to cringe. “Oh, my God. I’m sorry. I feel stupid now. Well, not that my opinion matters, but you two make such a beautiful couple. Truly. I hope you can work it out. You’d make beautiful babies someday.”
Her words were like a knife to the heart. I couldn’t believe she’d said that. A pain so enormous filled my chest. Just like that, our joyous, merry evening turned dark.
Rory was just looking down at his shoes. He’d been so cool and calm tonight, so positive, really putting his best foot forward to make me comfortable and to enjoy the evening without bringing up any drama. That couldn’t have been easy for him given the circumstances. But that comment was like a huge slap in the face, even though she obviously had no clue what she’d done.
He suddenly got up. “Excuse me.” Then, he headed toward the kitchen.
I wasn’t sure whether to join him or give him space.
Boris struggled to get up from his seat before walking over to the kitchen.
Left alone with Stephanie and her family, I flashed an awkward smile then dove back into my cake, forcing some of it down.
I could overhear Boris talking to Rory from where I was sitting. Since his hearing was going, he didn’t do a very good job of whispering.
“I’m sorry, Rory. I didn’t tell Stephanie what was going on because I didn’t think it was my place.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m good. I just needed a breather.”
“She’s lovely, son. I hope it works out.”
Unable to take it anymore, I placed my plate down on the coffee table and headed to the kitchen. Boris made his way back to the living room when he noticed me enter.
Rory poured himself some liquor. He didn’t look up when he said, “You didn’t have to get up. I’m a big boy.”
Placing my hand on his arm, I said, “I know you are. You’re the strongest person I know.”
He froze for a moment upon my touch. “Are you having an okay time?”
“Yeah…everyone is really nice. I’m pleasantly surprised at how comfortable I am here.” As he downed the alcohol, I said, “You sure you’re okay?”
He placed the glass on the counter. “I’m good. I already said that. I’m great. Why don’t you go back to the living room. I’ll be right there, okay?”
I searched his face for the truth. “Alright.”
He really wasn’t okay, but I had to respect his wishes.
We didn’t have a clear plan for the rest of the evening. I assumed I’d be going upstairs with him, and that worried me a little, mainly because I didn’t know how to handle myself alone with him anymore.
Rory somehow got finagled into making a gingerbread house with Sophie. I watched as he patiently helped her piece everything together.
I was certain that Rory would make a wonderful father someday, regardless of whether the child was his biologically or not. I’d always known that about him because of how well he always took care of me.
Boris took me aside while Rory was still in deep with the gingerbread house.
“Can I talk to you for a minute, darling?”
Taken aback, I stood up from my seat. “Of course.”
Rory’s eyes darted over to me when he noticed me walking away with the old man. He looked a little alarmed.
Offering a reassuring smile, I mouthed, “It’s fine.”
He led me down the hall and into his bedroom, which was more like a shrine to the woman I could only assume was his late wife. There were pictures of her and him everywhere, taking up almost every inch of space on his bureau and walls. The décor in the room was still quite feminine, likely her touches that he never wanted to change.
He picked up one of the framed photos. That’s my Ellie. See…in the end, all you have are memories. But you get to choose now who stars in the movie that is your life.” He put the photo back. “He really deeply loves you.”
I swallowed. “I know.”
“He told me the whole story…about this Fanning. He’s worried that you’ve really fallen in love with him and that it’s too late.”
“Channing,” I corrected.
“Yeah. Okay, whatever. Anyway, I know this isn’t a simple situation. You might be thinking that I asked you to come in here so that I can convince you to take Rory back, but I’m not gonna do such a thing. I would never tamper with a situation that isn’t any of my business. No one can tell someone who to love.” He pointed to his chest. “The answer is already in your heart…somewhere in here, and it’s not going to come from me or anyone else. Only you know what you really want. What I can ask you is to not waste his time or lead him on if you figure it out and have no intention of being with him. He may be putting on a strong front, but he’s not that strong. He’s not stupid, either. He takes full responsibility for the decision he made when he broke up with you. He doesn’t expect sympathy. He just wants your love if it’s still there, and he’s willing to swallow his pride to get it back. If it’s not there anymore, then let him find the person he can make memories with.”
The thought of Rory moving on with someone else was still a painful one. Old habits die hard.
“I promise, I don’t want to string him along. I’m still trying to figure out what’s inside. It feels like a jumbled mess right now, and it’s literally making me ill. I feel this constant pain inside of my chest that had never been there before, because I’m in love with both of them.”
“You might think so, but you can’t really be in love with two people. You want to love them both because you care for them both. The stress of not wanting anyone to get hurt is suppressing your ability to decipher your true feelings. Don’t force it. Let it come to you.”
“Thank you for not judging me, Boris. I know your allegiance is with Rory, and please believe me when I say, I only want the best for him, too.”
When we returned to the living room, Rory stood up from the couch. I could tell he was itching to leave.
The gingerbread house he’d made with Sophie looked completely finished, covered in frosting, sprinkles, and gumdrops.
“Are you leaving?” Sophie asked him.
“I think I need to get Miss Amber home.”
The little girl pouted. “We haven’t even eaten the house yet.”
He knelt to meet her at eye level. “All that work, and you want to eat it?”
She looked at him like he was crazy for asking. “That’s the fun part!”
Stephanie took the hint that we were ready to go. She stood up and offered me a hug. “Amber, it was so nice meeting you. I just friended you on Facebook. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, and so great meeting you, too.” I looked down at Sophie and smiled. “And you.”
Boris hugged me goodbye. “Goodnight, my lady. It was a pleasure.”
“The pleasure was all mine.”
Once out in the hallway that connected the two apartments, Rory turned to me. “Will you come upstairs for a little while before I drive you back?”
“Yes, of course.”
***
Ecstatic to see me, Bruiser jumped up to lick my face when we entered Rory’s apartment. The dog followed me over to the couch and placed his head on my lap.
Rory sat across from us on the chaise lounge. “So, are you gonna tell me what Boris said to you? I hope he didn’t embarrass me.”
“No, it was fine—nothing like that. He told me he knew what was going on with us. He was just looking out for you—and me. He’s a good man, very wise.”
We were quiet for a while, but he never took his eyes off me. He looked like he had so much to say, though.
Rory’s stare was penetrating. “I can’t even think about you with Channing.” It surprised me that he mentioned his name.
He went on, “I choose not to, because it’s too painful for me. But I’m not gonna stand here and tell you all the reasons why I’m a better fit for you, why you should choose me. That’s for you to decide. I’m not bringing him into this because my feelings for you have nothing to do with anyone else.” He looked down at the ground and shook his head. “I made a mistake—a big one. Nothing good ever comes out of hiding the truth. I’ve learned my lesson the hard way.”
The dog had fallen asleep on me.
Rory suddenly stood up from his chair. “I put something together for you. I didn’t know what else to get you.”
He went to his bedroom and returned with a thick book then sat back down, this time next to me. “I printed years’ worth of our digital photos. I put them in an album in chronological order.”
Looking down at the thick book, I said, “I can’t believe you took the time to do that.”
“Well, I’ve been dwelling in the past anyway these last few months. Might as well illustrate it all.”
He moved closer to me, and the warmth of his body was unsettling. I slowly opened the album and began looking through the photos, which started from when we had first gotten together. God, we were so young. And I was so happy.
Flipping through the pages, I really began to remember all of the reasons I’d fallen in love with him, how happy we were together.
I came across the set of photos that were taken the first night we’d ever made love. We were sitting in front of a fire at the cabin Rory had saved for months to rent.
He and I had waited a while to have sex. I was seventeen and had just graduated high school when I lost my virginity.
We lied to our parents, telling them we were going on a camping trip with friends. In reality, Rory had rented a cabin in the woods for just the two of us. Everyone always complains about their first time, how miserable it was. Not mine. My first time was one of the best nights of my life. We were surrounded by candles and a fireplace. Snow was falling outside. And Rory had taken his time with me. He’d had sex with one other person before we’d gotten together, so I wasn’t his first. He knew what he was doing and made love to me so slowly and sensually, making sure to break me in easily. There was a little blood, but there was never any pain. And once we did it a couple of times and it was no longer painful, we couldn’t get enough of each other. We stayed holed up, screwing each other’s brains out in that cabin for two days straight. It was bliss.
“I’ll never forget that night,” I whispered.
Rory was lost in thought for a few seconds before he said, “Yeah. It was pretty fucking awesome.”
It took the better part of an hour to get through all of the photos he’d printed out. Seeing nine years playing before my eyes like a movie made the ache in my chest even more profound. But he was trying to get me to remember when I’d never actually forgotten.
“I’ll always cherish this album. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Glancing out the window, I noticed that the snow was really starting to come down. Had it been snowing like this the whole time we were here?
Rory turned the news on, and the weather lady was immediately warning against being out on the roads unless it was an emergency. It hit me then that there was no way I was getting home tonight.
He looked at me with a slight smirk. “I swear…I didn’t plan this.”
“Black ice? That’s kind of scary.”
His mouth curved into a smile. “Scarier than spending the night here alone with me?”
“Just by a little.”
We shared a laugh before he said, “I’ll sleep on the couch. But you won’t be sleeping alone in my bed. Bruisey’s gonna want to sleep next to you, like old times.”
“Poor Bruisey. He’s gonna be so confused.”
“Since we’re gonna be here a while, why don’t I make us some hot chocolate.”
Hot chocolate.
That immediately made me think of Channing.
“Sure.”
I slipped out from under the sleeping dog and joined Rory in the kitchen where we sat and sipped the hot cocoa he’d made. Under any other circumstances, being snowed in with this handsome man who’d been my entire life for so long would have been a dream.
He must have been able to sense my inner turmoil when he said, “Don’t feel guilty when you look at me. I caused this myself. All of it.”
“No, you didn’t. You didn’t cause the accident. You were in shock, and you did what you thought was right. You thought you were protecting me. This whole situation…it’s nobody’s fault. I don’t blame you for anything anymore now that I understand what really happened.”
“My entire reason for coming back was that I could no longer live with you thinking I didn’t love you. I just waited too long.”
Leaning in and grabbing his hands, I said, “I know you love me. It’s one of the few things I’m sure of right now.”
My touching him may have been too much because he suddenly ripped himself away from me and walked across the room.
Placing his head in his hands, he said, “When I thought about my future, I always pictured it with you. Now, I see…nothing. I just don’t know what it looks like.” For the first time, I could see his eyes water. He seemed angry with himself for losing the composure he’d tried so hard for. “So much for a drama-free Christmas,” he muttered.
Getting up and pulling him into a hug, I wanted to just take his pain away, reassure him that everything would be okay, that I still loved him. I did. But it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t just us anymore.
His heart was beating rampantly, and my own was matching his rhythm. He was breathing fast, frantic breaths into my neck. And slowly his lips travelled upward. My body stirred as his mouth landed on mine. I didn’t have the heart to pull away, nor did I want to.
The kiss got more intense fast. We’d kissed thousands of times before this, but never had it felt so desperate, so forbidden, so bittersweet.
Somehow, I ended up pinned against the wall. He whispered over my mouth, “I want you, and I can’t have you, and that’s fucking killing me, because I still feel like you’re mine.” He leaned his head against mine. The pain in his voice was palpable, and it permeated my entire being. “I miss your laughter, miss the way you used to look at me, miss your love and goddammit…I miss fucking you. I miss fucking you so damn much. I’d just about give my life at this point to be inside of you again.” He buried his face in my neck. “I’m so fucking hard right now.”
I was beginning to realize how very dangerous this was. His words were making me wet. My body was turned on as he continued to press against me. I was getting carried away. I couldn’t remember the last time things felt this intense with Rory.
I’m a terrible person.
I couldn’t let this go on a second longer.
Pulling myself away from him, I said, “I’m sorry.”
He placed his hand over his face, scrubbing his skin and nodding as if he’d expected me to pull away. “It’s okay.”
I retreated to his room for the rest of the evening. As expected, Bruiser followed me into the bed.
Drowning in Rory’s familiar scent, I cried myself to sleep, my tears seeping through the fabric of his pillow.
***
Rory dropped me back off at my place early the next morning.
Once home, when I logged into my messages, I realized an email from Channing had come in overnight.
Dear Amber,
Attached is something I put together for you today. It’s a playlist of songs that remind me of us. Who knew that moving back to Chicago and being away from you would turn me into such a sap? Tell Milo I don’t need him to emasculate me anymore; I’m doing a damn good job of that myself. In all seriousness, I hope you like it. At the very least, don’t laugh at me.
Merry Christmas.
Love, Channing
Plugging my headphones in, I lay back and pressed play on the first song.
It was Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day. There was no doubt behind the meaning. Lainey had died in September. He’d mentioned once before that this song would always remind him of her. It touched me that he’d chosen to start with that one. As painful as it was, the fact would always remain that Lainey’s death was what really brought the two of us together as friends.
The next couple of songs, which included Best Friend by Jason Mraz and You Are The Sunshine of My Life by Stevie Wonder, I could only assume, represented our friendship as teenagers.
When What Hurts The Most by Rascal Flatts came on, it completely changed the tone of the playlist. I knew that reflected the time after he returned home from college—when everything had changed between us.
He’d only included the one melancholy song, which transitioned into another song that made me crack the hell up. It was Just a Friend by Biz Markie. That was apparently representative of the beginnings of our time together in Boston and his denial about his feelings for me.
The final song was Perfect by Ed Sheeran. The lyrics made me cry because they seemed to represent his ultimately falling in love with me. It truly was perfect.
***
“I kissed Rory.”
The guilt had felt like it was killing me. After hours of listening to Channing’s playlist, I finally built up the courage to dial him and vomited out those words the second he picked up.
The silence on the other end of the line was deafening, so I continued, “He was just so hurt and emotional, and I got caught up in the moment and the memories. I felt like I needed to tell you. I don’t ever want to keep anything from you.”
He finally spoke, “Yeah, well some things I’m not sure I want to know.” There was a long pause before he expelled a long breath into the phone. “Did anything else happen?”
“No. It snowed really badly here last night. It was too dangerous for him to drive me home, so I spent the night there. He slept on the couch. I slept in the bedroom with Bruiser. Then, he drove me home this morning. I came home to your playlist. It was so touching. I can’t even tell you how mu—”
“Thank you for telling me.” Even though he was thanking me, he sounded beyond pissed. “Since we’re being honest…I should tell you that I kissed Emily last night.”
His admission took a few seconds to compute. I swallowed. “What?”
“Yeah. She came by to say goodbye before heading back to Boston, and we ended up kissing before she left.”
My mouth felt parched as I swallowed hard. “Oh…”
It felt like he’d just shredded my heart to pieces even though it was incredibly unfair of me to react that way. My brain felt depleted, unable to form a coherent response.
“Are you still there?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Are you alright?”
“Not really.”
“Save your hyperventilation, Amber. It didn’t happen. I just made it up, so you would know what this feels like.”
The breath I’d been holding finally escaped me. “Oh, my God.”
“Feel that relief? Well, I’m feeling the exact opposite right now. A part of me prepared myself for this, but that’s not making it any easier.”
“Yeah. Well, I completely deserved that.”
Sounding understandably pissed, he said, “I need to just…not talk for a little bit, okay? I’m gonna let you go.”
He hung up before I could say anything further.
***
That night over the phone, Annabelle tried her best to cheer me up after I recalled what happened with Channing.
“Stop beating yourself up over it. No one crucifies The Bachelorette for kissing ten different guys in a week or taking three of them to a fantasy suite.”
“I’m not the freaking Bachelorette. I have no excuse. And Channing didn’t sign up for some reality show.”
“Anyone in your position would’ve done the same thing. You’re supposed to be figuring things out. This is the rest of your life we’re talking about. Kissing Rory was part of the process. This is a man you’ve made love to countless times. You just kissed him. You didn’t let it go any farther. It was a moment, and it passed.”
Feeling weakness throughout my entire body, I said, “I don’t feel so well, Annabelle. I feel like I can’t even stand up.”
“It’s stress. It will always catch up with you.”
“Maybe. It feels like more than that, though. I don’t know.”
“What does it feel like?”
The answer to that question came easy. “Honestly? It feels like I’m dying from a broken heart.”