An Optimist's Guide to Heartbreak (Heartsong #1)(84)

I wish I could see it from that perspective, but my heart was entangled in that job. That job brought me back to him. I looked forward to those jingle bells chiming every morning, signaling a new day. A new chance to turn our messy past into a brighter future.

I fill my cheeks with air and blow out a breath. “Thank you for coming over tonight. What time is my birthday dinner tomorrow?”

“Six o’clock,” she smiles, unraveling her arm from my shoulders. “Your aunt and uncle will be joining us. Your cousins, too.”

Warmth tickles me, filtering out the rotten thoughts. “That sounds great. I can’t wait.”

“I’ll let you get to sleep,” she says, moving to stand. “It’s getting late.”

“Okay, Mom. Merry Christmas.”

My mother wraps me in a big hug, kissing my temple, humming the tune to Jingle Bell Rock as she floats out the door. A smile lingers on my lips as her headlights illuminate my front window, and her car pulls out, disappearing down the neighborhood street.

Rising from the couch, I snatch up my cell phone, along with Pinky, and make my way down the short hallway to my bedroom.

I hover in the doorway of Emma’s old room for a moment, chewing on my lip.

Maybe it’s the splash of liquor Mom snuck into my eggnog, or maybe I’m searching for a Christmas miracle—whatever it is, I find myself dialing Cal’s phone number with shaky fingers, bringing the cell to my ear as I wait.

Ring, ring, ri—

“Lucy?”

The sound of his voice is a miracle all in itself. “Merry Christmas,” I squeak out, tears imminent.

“Christ, I’ve been worried about you.”

“Why did you do it?” I blurt. It’s not what I meant to say, but I can’t stop the dam from breaking now. “Why did you use me and discard me like that?”

A beat passes, like he’s having trouble processing my questions. “What?”

“I gave myself to you, Cal. I trusted you, and you threw me away. You broke my heart.”

“Jesus, Lucy, it wasn’t like that. Letting you go from the job was a practical, healthy move for both of us. You have to see that.”

“All I see is you taking what you wanted from me, then leaving all the rest.”

“No. That’s absolutely not what happened, and this is why I wanted to have a conversation with you,” he says wearily, his trademark sigh evident. “Can I come over? I want to make this right. I hate hearing you like this.”

I sniffle, clutching Pinky to my chest like a child who’s lost her best friend.

I would know—I was her, once upon a time.

Shaking my head, I muster a reply. “No. I’m not ready to see you yet,” I confess, wanting nothing more than to see him. “I just wanted to know why.”

“I told you why.”

“But why…like that? Why in that moment, after I gave you something so valuable to me?”

“Because I’m fucking helpless against you,” he shouts, anger flaring. Emotion escalating. “Every day I’m around you, I become more and more goddamn defenseless. I can’t think straight. Rational thought goes out the window. I’m no fucking good for you, but somehow, you’re the best thing about me—it’s a recipe for disaster.”

My breath hitches. I squeeze the phone tighter as I make my way to the bed and plop down.

“Do you want your job back? Would that fix this? Fine, I’ll rehire you. But you’ll see exactly why I think it’s a huge mistake.”

I shake my head again, knowing it’s too little too late. “No, I’m working at the animal shelter now. And I start working with Nash after the new year.”

Silence crackles for a few charged seconds before his terse reply meets my ears. “The bartender? Why?”

“You didn’t leave me with a ton of options, Cal. He offered, and it makes sense.”

He sighs again, longer this time, his tone laced with more frustration than ever. “Lucy. Let me come over so we can talk this through. Just because I let you go doesn’t mean I…let you go.”

“It’s not a good idea. It’s too soon.”

I know exactly what will happen if he comes over right now.

I’ll give in, fall into his arms like he didn’t shred my heart to smithereens, probably sleep with him because I’m helpless, too, and then I’ll hate myself tenfold come sunrise.

He clears his throat and says, “But it’s your birthday.”

My eyes close as I lean back against the headboard of my bed. “I’ve managed a whole lot of birthdays without you. I’ll survive one more.”

Cal goes silent again.

I don’t know what to say, either.

Honestly, I’m not sure why I even called him in the first place. I didn’t want to end the night like this, with falling tears, with whisperings of things that’ll never come to be. “I’m sorry I called you,” I tell him, strengthening my voice. “I just wanted to say Merry Christmas. I hope you have a good day with Cricket. I hope…” I heave in a rickety breath, finishing, “I hope you have all the good days.”

“Lucy…”

“Goodnight, Cal.”

“Luc—”

I hang up.