An Ex for Christmas (Love Unexpectedly 5)

Ironically, the very person whose opinion I want to ask on what to do is the very one who’s causing my indecision in the first place.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. What I have with Mark is just sex. It’s separate from my quest for my soulmate.

There. That’s a good pep talk, right?

It does the trick, because I pick up the phone and reply…

Hey! Yes, just was thinking about you lately. You know how I get around the holidays. Nostalgic and whatnot :)

I hit send and quickly exchange the phone for my wine. There. That wasn’t so bad. Now I just have to wait…

My iPhone buzzes. Damn it. What is with all my exes being so prompt?

Ha, yeah, I remember you did always get a little weepy this time of year.

I narrow my eyes. Did he and I even date over Christmas? I can’t remember. Truth be told, I can’t remember much about Adam at all. Light brown hair. Brown eyes. Blue eyes? He had a birthmark on his right shoulder, I know that, and…

Yeah, that’s about it as far as memories go.

So you’ve been good? Still in New York?

I bite my lip as I wait in agony for a little bit…as his typing turns into text.

His response makes my stomach drop out.

Yeah, but not the city. Got tired of the business, traded in my suit for jeans and bought a place upstate.

I close my eyes. Upstate.

Haven is upstate.

All this time I’ve been waiting for a sign that one of these guys is the one, and here one of them is practically next do

or…

But well now, wait a minute. Let’s not get hasty. Upstate New York applies to a huge region. For all I know, he could be four hours away and married.

You know Johnstown? About a three-hour train ride north. You grew up around there, right?

Shit. Shit shit shit. Johnstown is all of a thirty-minute drive from Haven, with traffic. And there’s never traffic.

My next move should be easy. Adam is right there. I should go grab a drink with him. If he’s available, it means…well, something. If he’s not, there we go. Not meant to be.

And if Mark’s face keeps popping into my head…

I blow out a breath. But Mark’s not here, sooooo…

I sprint up the stairs, then back down again, shaking the precious Magic 8 ball (it still works, despite Mark’s abuse).

It’s the perfect solution—the only solution. There’s only one way to figure out if I’m supposed to see this whole ex list business through. Either it’s fate or…

“Should I set up a date with Adam?” I ask as I drop back into the kitchen chair.

No no no no no, I will it desperately to reply, still shaking the ball.

Yes.

I drop my forehead to the wood table with a groan.