Hold the Forevers

The photos glared up at me, and I turned them facedown in the keep pile. Then my fingers closed over an old keychain, and I laughed through the pain. A Coke keychain. The one that Cole had given me that first birthday together.

Jesus, I hadn’t gotten rid of anything. My hand tightened around it, my heart squeezing with the motion. I could imagine us together as I managed to get two Cokes out of the vending machine. Him dancing with me as we rejoiced in my superpower.

But Cole was gone.

Ash was gone.

I pushed myself away from the pile of memories. I couldn’t keep doing this right now. I needed air.

I dropped the keychain down on the keep pile, grabbed my jacket, and headed for the front door.

“Where are you going?” my mom asked.

“Out.”

“It’s almost dark.”

“Just going for a walk in the park to clear my head.”

“Okay,” she said in that disapproving mom voice. “Be safe.”

“I will. Love you,” I called as I jogged out the front door.

I didn’t stop jogging until I reached Forsyth Park. It was farther than I normally would have walked, especially in the cold. But I wanted to get away, and the running at least helped clear my head.

I made it to the fountain and paused to catch my breath. The park was unsurprisingly deserted on Christmas Eve, and I walked around the fountain a few times before leaning back against the surrounding railing.

It was hard to believe that a year had gone by already. It simultaneously felt like no time at all had passed and it had been a lifetime ago. How had we gotten to that point?

I probably should have done something productive, like open up Tinder in Savannah and see if I matched with anyone else who hated Christmas this year, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to date anyone else. No matter what everyone had said, the last year of dating had shown me how good I’d had it with both Ash and Cole. Separate from the other, the relationship had been amazing, and I hadn’t been able to duplicate that. I wasn’t sure I ever would be able to.

With a sigh, I sank down to the cold ground, leaning my back against the fountain barrier. A family skipped past me. A high school couple held hands as they walked the perimeter of the fountain and then took a seat at a bench farther away.

Everything about that felt too familiar. How many days had Ash and I met up here? Too many to count. Back before everything had fallen apart. Back when it had been so easy.

“Hello, stranger.”

I whipped my head up and found the source of my thoughts walking toward me in a black peacoat and dress pants. I blinked, sure that I was imagining Ash standing before me. But he wasn’t from my imagination; he was real.

“Ash?” I asked, quickly climbing back to my feet.

“Hi, Lila. Merry Christmas.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you.”

I tilted my head. “How did you know that I was here?”

“Well, I didn’t. I went to your house, and your mom told me where to find you.”

“Traitor,” I muttered under my breath.

He chuckled softly. “If it’s any consolation, she threatened me with bodily harm if I hurt you.”

“That doesn’t sound like my mom.”

“She said that you’re doing a lot better and she never wants to see you hurt like you were last year. I assured her that I didn’t want to hurt you, just to talk. She said that was fine, but if you came back with another broken heart, no one would ever find the body.”

I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t stop from laughing at that. My mom, the good Christian woman, threatening Ash Talmadge. Hilarious.

“God, I love her.”

“She’s great. Raised one hell of a daughter.”

“Four,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, but her Amy bloomed.”

I flushed at the Little Women reference. Oh, how we always came back to this moment. Where I was the youngest sister coming into my own and he was the boy I’d always loved from afar.

“What are you really doing here, Ash?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“I want to talk,” he assured me.

“You never just want to talk.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. He leaned back against the railing next to me. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you being in Savannah and not seeing you.”

“We’ve both lived in Atlanta for the last year and not seen each other.”

“It’s different. You know it is,” he said, meeting my gaze. “This is home.”

And he was my hometown boy.

I sighed, releasing the tension between us. What good did it do, carrying it around? I missed him. I’d just been thinking about how I wanted things to be different. I’d had a year to get my thoughts together, and they’d told me that while I could be alone if I wanted to, I’d had it good here. Just like this.