“I’m sorry. I just—I had to get the hell out of there.”

Gabe’s quiet for a moment. “Did you just tell me you’re sorry?”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, don’t make a big deal about it, okay? Jesus.”

“Your girl is upset.”

I gnash my teeth together. “She’s not my girl.” I’ve done a lot of soul searching these last few days and I’ve come to a realization.

Though Alexandria may have done me wrong, I did wrong by her too. We’ve both fucked up this relationship before it even got a real chance. I don’t know if we can salvage it either.

I don’t know if I’m strong enough to salvage it—or if she wants to fix it with me. She might hate me for all I know. She should. I’ve said it time and again. I don’t deserve her. Even after what she’s done, I know she’s better than me. She’s a good girl trying to make something out of her life. And I’m the bad guy who’s doing his best to burn his down.

“Can I tell you something? Man to man?” Gabe asks, his voice going low. Serious.

I brace myself. “Sure.” What else can I do but agree? He’s going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not.

“Lucy did the same thing to me, you know.” That’s right. I forgot. She did lie to him. From the moment they met she kept up a façade. “Only she told me all sorts of things. Made up an elaborate story that I bought. A story she thought I wanted to hear because she figured I wouldn’t accept her truth.”

“Weren’t you pissed?”

“I was fucking furious. There was so much more involved but…I couldn’t hold what she did to me against her forever. My love for her eventually won out.” Gabe pauses. “Maybe you should let your love for Alex win out.”

“I’m not in love with her,” I immediately start to say but Gabe interrupts me.

“Fine. You don’t love her. But you do care about her. Don’t deny it because we all know it’s true.” Gabe talks right over me when I start to protest. “What do you want more? Utter misery when you’re alone without her? Or having Alex in your life, making your days better? Which one are you going to choose?”

I close my eyes, struggling against his words. I spoke with my mom after I first arrived in Vail about her affair with Douglas McIntosh and she just blew it off like it was nothing, which in turn blew my fucking mind.

What’s done is done, she’d told me. I can’t erase the past but I can move on with my future.

Her words have hung with me ever since.

“People make mistakes,” Gabe continues. “We’re all idiots, just moving through life hoping to survive. But when you meet that idiot who’s your perfect match, don’t you want to go after her? Don’t you want to keep her in your life? Isn’t it better to be two idiots facing the world together than having to face it alone?”

“Did you just call yourself an idiot?” I joke but Gabe doesn’t respond. He’s waiting me out. Blowing out a harsh breath, I relent. “I don’t know what’s wrong or right anymore. Relationships suck.”

“Not if you’re in the right one.”

“How am I supposed to know if what I had with Alexandria was right?”

“If you’re having a hard time breathing, eating, sleeping, and functioning in your daily life, then I’d say those are all pretty strong signs,” Gabe says dryly.

Shit. She’s all I can think about. The sad look on her face when I dropped her off at her house, her eyes full of longing. How angry I’d been when I figured out who her father was. She can’t help who gave birth to her. She isn’t the one responsible for her dad’s actions.

So why did I blame her?

“Since when did you become so knowledgeable about this shit?” I ask him, irritated that he’s actually doling out decent advice. I’m fucking irrational I know, but I can’t help myself.

“I know a kindred spirit when I see one,” he says. “I’ve been in your shoes. And it’s no fun.”

“So what do I do?” I run a hand through my hair and turn away from the window. I don’t care about snow or Christmas or any of that bullshit. I need to talk to Alexandria. I need to make this right.

“Talk to her. Call her. Go to her. Tell her how you feel.”

My automatic reaction is fuck that. I don’t grovel. I don’t apologize. I don’t bother trying to make things right. I never have.

But Gabe’s right. I miss her. I want her in my life. The only one holding me back is—me. If I want her, I have to go after her.

“She probably won’t take my call.”

“Text her.”

“That’s bogus.”

“How else are you going to talk to her? You’re in Colorado, she’s in California.”

I blow out a harsh breath. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

Gabe chuckles. “You’ll thank me later, I promise.”

“I gotta go,” I mutter, making Gabe laugh a little harder. “Hey, dickwad.”

The laughter stops. “Yeah fuck face?” Gabe asks cheerily.

“I’m going to thank you now,” I say quietly, hoping he understands just how much I appreciate him and his friendship. That he reached out to me when no one else did.

“You’re welcome. Now go figure out how to get yourself out of your mess.”

Later that night I’m sitting in bed, my phone clutched in my hand as I contemplate how to approach her. Talking on the phone won’t cut it. I’m fairly certain she’d ignore my call anyway. But she can’t ignore a text, can she?

She could never reply and that would eat me up inside, but it’s the chance I have to take. At least I could get out what I need to say.

I start texting, hitting the back button countless times, erasing what I type. Rewording it. I need to get this just right and it’s hard. I don’t want to fuck it up. I don’t want to risk losing her.

I can’t.

Laying it all on the line isn’t my style. I don’t say flowery words. I’m not a romantic. I’m straightforward to the point that my words tend to do damage more than good. I don’t even mean to be an asshole most of the time. I just have no filter. I say what I want when I want.

Sounds like an excuse, but it’s true.

With Alexandria, I need to be honest. Open. Real. But not blunt. Never blunt. I’ve done that before and hurt her. So bad I might not get her back.

And I have to get her back.

Determination filling me, I start typing once more, my thumbs flying over the keyboard.

I was out to dinner with Kelli, where we both made a vow we wouldn’t check our phones for the rest of the night. It was tough at first but after a while, I was thankful for it. I’m way too dependent on my phone. And it’s not like anyone is texting me.

It was Kelli’s last night here—she’s leaving tomorrow so we wanted to hang out. Drinks and dinner and shopping. I had no one to buy a gift for so I just tagged along, which was actually a lot more fun. The gift giving pressure was off so I could just enjoy myself.

When we got back to my house I gave Kelli her present from me—a Vuitton cross body purse.

“I absolutely cannot accept this,” she says as she turns the purse this way and that, her mouth hanging open, happiness sparkling in her eyes.

“You absolutely can,” I tell her sincerely. “I want you to have it. You’ve been such a good friend to me.” I confessed to her when she forced me out of the house a few days ago how I sell all my expensive handbags on consignment websites and that I was dwindling down to my last purses. Thankfully most of that money is stashed away in savings for future tuition payments but that lucrative gig was about to dry up.

“You’ve been a good friend too. The best.” She tackle hugs me, holding me close, hopping up and down as she practically shouts in my ear, “Merry Christmas to me, whoo hoo!”

Kelli gives me a basket of fun, girlie goodies like lotion and candles, plus a Starbucks gift card because we seem to live there. We are the epitome of the white girls in our yoga pants lovin’ our PSLs. I don’t even care. I’m embracing the cliché wholeheartedly.