An Ex for Christmas (Love Unexpectedly 5)

“Something for the top of the tree. Star. Angel. Bow.”

“What do you usually put up there?”

“The star I made in second grade,” I say, chewing my fingernail.

“Where’s that star?” he asks in a bored tone.

“In a box in my parents’ attic with the rest of the ornaments.”

“And the four-minute drive to their house to retrieve it is…too much?”

“No, I want this tree to be different than my family tree. I want this to be our—to be my tree.”

I’m glad my back’s to him, because I don’t even want to see if he heard my little slip-up. Obviously, Mark and I wouldn’t have a tree together. It’s just…he helped me cut it down, set it up, and though he didn’t hang a single ornament, he was here, and, well, that means something.

I don’t know why the lack of a tree topper is bugging me so much. Now that I know it’s missing, the absence is all I can notice. But what’s even more annoying is that I don’t want to put just any old thing up there. I mean, yeah, I could get some white ribbon and make a big bow like the one in the Pinterest picture. Or I’m pretty sure Target and Walmart have white stars that would work with the color scheme.

But I don’t want any old thing, I want the perfect thing.

And I don’t know what it is.

“Besides,” I say hurriedly, trying to push the topic, “that star I made a million years ago is gold. This tree is aqua and white.”

“Yeah, I think even me and my testosterone can recognize the color scheme, Kell,” he says, pushing up from the couch and coming to stand beside me. “You’ll figure it out,” he says, looking at the tree instead of me.

“Figure what out?”

There’s a long pause before he replies.

“The perfect tree topper.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

He must sense my change in mood, because he puts an arm around my shoulder—second time that day—and pulls me close for a quick side hug.

“I’m gonna head out,” he says quietly. “Need anything?”

“No, I’m good,” I say, letting my head rest on his shoulder just for a second, still preoccupied with the empty top of my tree. “Thanks for coming over.”

He turns his head, presses his lips to the side of my head. Not quite a kiss, but…a linger. “Anytime.”

Mark pulls away, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him give Rigby the silent stay command, telling the dog not to follow him home tonight—to stay with me, because I need the dog more.

It’s a seriously sweet gesture, though Mark would hate that I saw it.

A few moments later, I hear the back door close behind him, and then it hits me.

This entire evening, I haven’t thought about what’s next—or who’s next—on the ex list, not even once.

December 18, Monday Morning

“Wait, sorry. Run that by me one more time. But first, can we spike my coffee with Bailey’s? Because I think it’s the only way this’ll make any sense. CliffsNotes version this time.”

I ignore my friend’s request for Bailey’s, mainly because Ivy Cabrera’s just told me she’s pregnant with baby number three.

But the first request I dutifully obey, and repeat my Christmas vacation plans.

“CliffsNotes version?” I say. “Psychic lady at the train station tells me that I’ve already met my one true love. And because I can actually feel my ovaries shriveling up and don’t want to die an old maid, I decided to track down exactly who she’s talking about.”