All Madison wants for Christmas is the same person who once wanted her. Free from the shackles of her broken heart, she's finally ready to give love another shot. But is Madi too late to win back the man of her dreams?
SEQUEL to The Heartbreak Hypot...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I turned to face Holly, as I braced myself for the scowl on her face or the daggers shooting from her eyes. I didn't want to face her. No, what I wanted was to retreat back into my shell of delusion and denial.
That sounded lovely. If not entirely illogical.
Finally, there it was. After an entire day of avoiding, of pretending, of civil chatter and strained smiles. Not just a sliver of acknowledgment. A whole entire bucket-load.
And so casually poured over our conversation, no less.
But Holly wasn't scowling when she turned away from the festive display. Her magenta smile didn't crack. In fact, she didn't seem angry at all. While the can of soda had been opened, it didn't seem to drench me in its wake.
Maybe that should've unnerved me more than I already was. Not that I likely could have been unnerved more than I already was. Still, it didn't.
Because it didn't feel disingenuous.
"I'm sorry."
Unlike so many other things that I'd said on that trip—things I'd said to James and Dex simply because they felt like the right things to say—I actually meant that one. It wasn't just a knee-jerk response to the awkward situation I'd found myself in, or a weird coping mechanism for the repressed feelings springing to the surface. It wasn't even something I said because I simply felt obliged.
Rather, I was sorry.
I always had been. I was sorry for using Holly and Dex the way I had. I was sorry for lying the way I had. I was sorry for treating people like objects as if that would somehow stop one from hurting me ever again. I felt guilty and nauseous and utterly irresponsible.
Because Noah was right. I still had unfinished business with Holly, just like I had unfinished business with Lola until the day before. It was why I'd been avoiding her ever since she'd hopped into James' car. It was why I clung to my friends like saran wrap when she was around and panicked at the thought of being left alone with her. And I hated feeling that way. I hated running. After my conversation with Lo, I knew how good it felt to suck that kind of poison out of my life.
Sometimes, apologies aren't about the receiver at all.
Holly cocked her head, registering my regret. Her eyes were twinkling, glimmering flecks of hazel and almond reflecting the patterns cast by the decorative lights. She didn't have to ask for clarification, for what exactly it was I was apologizing for. We could pretend all we liked, but we both knew our friendship had been built on rocky foundations.
If you could even call it a foundation.
Or a friendship.
The music and caroling were replaced by light applause. But all I could hear was that frantic rhythm of my heart.
