Take Me Home for Christmas

“What else did she have to do today? You said she was home alone. She could’ve walked that far.” The tenor of her voice changed. “She might not have made it back, depending on whether she drank on the way home, but...”

He didn’t care to imagine it. At least she was safe. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“There were a lot of reasons I didn’t tell you.”

“Like...”

“I’d promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t feel it would be fair to break that confidence just because you and I started seeing each other.”

He remembered Alexa’s reaction not too long ago when he’d gone down to the kitchen for a glass of wine —and finally understood it. “We’re not talking about spreading random gossip. She’s my housekeeper! You don’t think I had a right to know that my wine cellar might cause her some serious problems?”

“Last I heard, alcohol addiction isn’t something people are required to reveal on a job application. I figured it didn’t matter as long as it wasn’t affecting her work. She’s had it hard enough since Skip died without me going around blabbing about her personal problems—especially to her employer who didn’t really want to hire her in the first place. From what she told me, alcohol was her only escape. Skip controlled every aspect of her life, wouldn’t even let her have a job. So I wasn’t feeling particularly judgmental. And you can be a very exacting person.”

He sat up. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m judgmental?”

“You’re capable of so much, and you expect others to live up to your standards.”

“I don’t understand what Sophia’s addiction has to do with that.”

“Besides the job issue, and whether or not you’d be willing to hire her, I thought that learning she was an alcoholic might change the way you look at her—and at me. I didn’t want that to be the deciding factor in our relationship, didn’t want you to choose me over her just because I’ve never been to rehab. I hoped you’d fall head over heels in love with me just like you once did with her. We all know how you used to feel about her, Ted. How much she meant to you and how long it took you to get over her. If you were going to date me, I wanted it to be because of who I am instead of what she isn’t. Does that make sense?”

“Not entirely,” he grumbled, but it did. He was just hesitant to acknowledge the legitimacy of her concerns. He wasn’t sure that, in the past four weeks, he’d been able to come very close to the target she’d painted for him.

Was he falling in love with her? It didn’t feel like it. He kept telling himself that he had to give their relationship more time, try harder, be more dedicated, stop thinking of Sophia. But he couldn’t order his heart to love one person instead of another. Despite the hurt she’d caused him, it was still Sophia who took his breath away.

“When it comes to me, to us, I don’t want you to rely on some...checklist that has more to do with your head than your heart,” Eve explained. “No girl wants to be a consolation prize.”

“I appreciate what you’re saying,” he told her, but he feared her expectations were set too high. If she hoped to own his heart the way Sophia once had—he couldn’t deliver that.

“You appreciate it?” she said. “That’s your response?”

She’d given him an opportunity to reassure her, and he’d blown it. They’d been sleeping together for a month. He could see how, after that much time, she might be curious as to where he stood on the relationship. But how could he convince her they were heading toward marriage when he felt no closer to it today than the morning after they’d first made love? Just a few minutes ago, it had been all he could do not to carry Sophia to his bed. If she hadn’t been drunk, there was even a chance he might have succumbed.... “I care about you—”

“You cared about me a month ago, Ted.” She paused and he waited, tense, for her to continue. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Think how easy your life will be if you stick with Eve. Don’t be Rhett Butler! “I don’t know what to say.” He scratched his head, hard, as if that would somehow set his brain straight. “I want to feel the way you want me to.”

“But it’s not there. That’s the rest of the sentence, isn’t it?”

Shit. He could hear the disappointment in her voice. He was hurting her even though he’d promised himself he’d never do that. “Maybe not yet, but...that doesn’t mean what we have can’t develop into whatever we want it to be. I won’t give up. Not as long as you’re interested in trying.”

“How flattering. You’re asking me to rely on the power of your will. Your determination.”

He’d said the wrong thing, been too honest. “It’s not just determination. It’s knowing that you’re...that you’re everything I should want in a wife.”

“So I get a better score on your checklist.”

“I don’t have a checklist!”

“Never mind. I think a month of giving it all we’ve got is enough, don’t you?”

“A month isn’t that long, Eve. We’ve barely gotten started. And we have a...a good relationship. We never fight. We enjoy each other. We trust each other.”

“There we go. That’s it. You trust me, but you don’t trust Sophia.”

Could anyone trust Sophia? Maybe she wouldn’t be able to beat her addiction. Maybe what she’d been through had scarred her too deeply. Or maybe she’d get back on her feet but move away. “Look, there’s nothing wrong with basing a relationship on trust, nothing wrong with what we’ve got.”

“Except that we’re trying to make it into something it’s not!”

He said nothing, could say nothing.

She was the one who eventually broke the silence. “That night in the hot tub...”

He fell back on his pillows. Remembering that night should’ve brought him pleasure. But it didn’t, not any more than the encounters he’d had with various other women along the way. Only Sophia stood out. “What about it?”

“Why did you make it sexual?”

“I couldn’t see why we shouldn’t be together. I thought it would fulfill both our needs.”

“I’m glad you didn’t say it was because you were drunk.”

“Come on, we’ve discussed this.”

“Except that there’s more to it than what you’ve admitted. You wanted to protect yourself from getting back with Sophia, right? You needed to insert someone between you and her to feel safe.”

This conversation was moving into dangerous territory, but he had no clue how to turn it around. “If you know that now, you knew it then. So why’d you go along with it?”

“Because I wanted to believe. I wanted to delude myself as much as you did.”

At least she was taking some responsibility for the situation.

He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Eve. My brain has never functioned properly when it comes to her.”

She laughed without mirth. “Hello! Then stop pretending you don’t know what love is!”

“I feel sorry for her and, yes, I’m attracted to her. I’m not sure that’s love,” he said. “Anyway, love doesn’t necessarily make a relationship successful.”

“No, but it gives you a hell of a lot more to fight for—and it makes life far more rewarding when you win. In any case, I’m stepping out of the picture. That means you’ll have to figure out what you feel for her and deal with it one way or another,” she said and hung up.

Ted stayed on his bed for...he didn’t know how long. He just lay there, wrestling with himself and staring at the ceiling. He wanted to give Sophia a chance. She seemed to have changed in all the important areas. But her life was in shambles. After coming out of such a bad marriage, after going through what she’d endured for fourteen years, was she even in a position to know what she wanted?

And what if she couldn’t overcome her addiction?

* * *

As soon as she heard Cheyenne’s voice, Eve almost hung up—but it was too late. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t spoken yet; she’d placed the call so her name would’ve come up on Chey’s screen.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Cheyenne said cheerfully.