Christmas sucks.
When Emily Shepherd's boss boyfriend cheats on her with her best friend, she loses everything in one night-love, friendships, job, and home. In a weird fit of desperation (or some deep-rooted need to punish herself even more) she m...
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Emily had to admit, it was better to sleep on an actual bed, with actual sheets and an actual pillow than it was to sleep on the floor. But it was still lonely. The bed felt too big, too empty. How had she gotten so used to having Jake there in just two short years? She'd slept in a bed by herself her whole life, except for those two years. She could do it again.
And she could also stop thinking about Jake. He wasn't worth the emotional energy. In fact, now that only a few days had passed, her anger had cooled. Well, not so much cooled as transformed into something else. It was still anger, but it was somehow further away from her. She would never forgive him, never forgive Mika, but it didn't quite hurt as much.
In fact, she wasn't thinking very much about Jake and Mika at all, really. She had other things to think about, other people to think about.
She smiled and whispered to herself, "Other person?"
But that was crazy. She was crazy. She didn't even know Leo. No question, he was good looking. And nice. And had a really great smile. "Such a great smile."
But he was just being nice. He was a nice guy. That was it. He was small-town friendly. Music teacher nice. Landlord friendly.
Were landlords friendly? Weren't they supposed to be all Where's the rent money and Keep the noise down? Or was that just some TV and movie trope? Did landlords usually help you move furniture? Or search your house because you heard geese on the roof?
She sighed and rolled to her side. She put her hand on the empty side of the bed. Both times he searched her house, he'd put himself between her and the perceived danger. That was just heart melting. That was the kind of thing romantic novel heroes did, romantic movie heroes did, romantic—
"Oh stop!" She rolled to the side of the bed and picked up her phone from the floor, then flopped onto her back. "Just stop, Em. This is, at best, rebound behavior."
She opened her social media app and started scrolling through the various posts. She had to get her mind off Leo. That was not healthy. He was just being nice, and she could feel herself start to fantasize about him. And how would that go when she had to talk to him in person, knowing what she'd been thinking about him at night? Bad form, Em.
She scrolled through the posts of people's Christmas celebrations, their new outfits, their decorations, and she felt her mood sour appropriately. Were any of these people really happy? Or did they just make these posts because they think they should be happy?
Like this one, her cousin. There he was with his three kids in front of a Christmas tree, with his heavily pregnant wife, all smiling like Christmas was the best thing that ever happened to anyone. But she knew he just went back to work after being unemployed for almost six months. And they probably couldn't afford half the presents under that tree. So why post this smiling fakery? And the caption, "Tough times don't last, love does. So thankful for everything. Happy holidays."
