What Love Looks Like (25 page)

22

 
It
was after ten o’clock on Christmas Eve. Thankfully, the roads were deserted,
and I was pretty sure that Ryan would still be working for another couple of
hours. He always closed the restaurant on Christmas Eve to give his staff ample
time off with their families. Damn, he was
such
a good guy, and I was
such
an idiot.
I sped from my cousin’s house in Dublin to Wal-Mart, the only place that I knew
would still be open. I was in such a rush that my tires screeched in the empty
parking lot as I swerved into a parking space. It felt like a scene in some
hectic Christmas movie where travelers were late to the airport, or parents
were shopping for Christmas gifts at the last possible second.

Speeding with a
shopping cart through the Christmas section in four-inch heels proved
challenging. I quickly removed my shoes so I could move more swiftly. Scanning
the aisles, I noted how picked over everything was, but I’d have to make do. I
filled a shopping cart with the jolliest items that remained. It was my first
ever attempt at a grand gesture, and because I wasn’t sure quite how grand to
go, I aimed for completely over the top.

At the
self-checkout lane, I winced at the nearly three-hundred-dollar grand total,
and it dawned on me that in just forty-eight short hours, everything would be
more than 50 percent off the price I was paying for it. With the voraciousness
I usually reserved for inhaling a pint of Ben & Jerry’s or scrounging a
sale rack at Nordstrom, I threw the merchandise into my trunk. I was on a
mission. I drove to Ryan’s house, a good fifteen miles from the store, in ten
minutes flat. I’d yet to give back his house key, so as long as he hadn’t
changed the locks, I could get in. I felt confident that my plan might speak to
him in a way I couldn’t articulate through words alone.

I burst through
his door, where Woody greeted me. I affectionately petted the dog, who I’d also
come to miss, and assured him that his girlfriend Luna would be back to see him
as soon as possible. Hurrying upstairs, I awkwardly balanced four bags and a
long, awkward box. I didn’t have time to make two trips to the car. I cleared
out the space in front of Ryan’s bay window, making room for everything I’d
purchased. In essence I was breaking and entering, and if that in itself didn’t
constitute a grand gesture, I didn’t know what would.

I set up the
six-foot tree that I bought, along with a beautiful silver tree skirt.
Thankfully, the tree was prelit, as I wouldn’t have a whole lot of time for
decorating. I decided to save that for last. Instead, I switched gears and hung
the stockings, one with a giant
R
and
one with a
W
, for Woody. I shoved a
foot-long rawhide into Woody’s, and two bottles into Ryan’s, one of eggnog and
one of brandy. I lit holiday-scented candles around the tree and littered his
condo with candy canes. I’d even purchased an iPod dock and set up the holiday
play list on my iPhone to stream through the place when Ryan entered.

I felt
completely asinine making such a fuss without knowing for sure that my efforts
would be appreciated. But I supposed that was the risk of grand gestures; there
was no guarantee they’d be grand enough to win back a loved one. I’d never done
anything so thoughtful before, but desperate times called for desperate
measures. At least I was doing
something
to try to make things right. And Ryan was worth making a fool out of myself
for. Midnight was approaching, and I knew he’d be home shortly. I was nervous
but knew there wasn’t any point in worrying if I looked like a psycho for
breaking into his house and decorating it for Christmas. Worrying what people
thought of me was how I’d gotten into this debacle in the first place. It was
time to be a big girl and clean up the mess I’d made. And if there was a way to
do it, this was it.

I heard the
garage door go up moments later, and I worried that Ryan would be startled to
come home to an inhabited house when he was expecting an empty one. “Ryan,” I
called out to tell him I was there, though he’d probably had seen my car and
figured it out on his own.

“Elle,” he said,
as I hurried down to the first floor to greet him. “What are you doing here?
Don’t you have Christmas with your family?”

He wasn’t
excited to see me, but he wasn’t throwing me out either. I hadn’t seen him in
weeks, and he looked the same, only better. He appeared tired from what was no
doubt a long day at the restaurant, but strong and vigorous nonetheless. He had
such a grown-up air about him, and I was completely attracted to him all over
again.

“I left my
cousin’s Christmas party. I just had to see you.” Tears began to well up in my
eyes, but I willed them away, forcing myself to be brave. “I know you don’t
want to see me.” I put my hand in the air to silence any protest. “But I have a
surprise for you upstairs. I just wanted to give you something for Christmas.”
He looked at me, puzzled. “If it were up to me, I would have done this with you
a month ago. But I’m an idiot and messed everything up. Follow me.”

I led him up the
stairs, and reentering the great room in his condo I observed what a lovely job
I’d decorating in so little time. Granted, I hadn’t had time to hang up all the
ornaments, but it was better than nothing. And if all went as planned, we could
hang them together, just as I’d wanted to before everything went to shit. I led
Ryan by the hand, instructing him to keep his eyes closed. “Why am I doing
this?” he asked, not at all amused.

“Keep them
closed until I say. And if you don’t like the surprise, I’ll leave and never
bother you again,” I said, though the thought of doing so sickened me. Woody
followed close behind Ryan, ever so loyally. “Okay, open!” We had reached the
top of the stairs.

Ryan opened his eyes,
which reflected the subtle light of the tree. His mouth opened slightly, which
I hoped meant he was in awe. “It’s . . . beautiful. I’ve never had a Christmas
tree here before.” He removed his coat and loosened his tie. “You did this all
tonight?”

“Uh huh,” I said
sheepishly.

“Why?”

“A desperate
plea for your attention. I didn’t know what else to do. And I know you’re mad
at me, but no one should be alone on Christmas Eve. And
everyone
should have a Christmas tree.”

“So you got me
one. Gosh, Elle, I don’t know what to say.”

I couldn’t gauge
him. Was he pleased or angry that I was there? “Don’t say anything until we’ve
had cocktails.”
 

“Cocktails? All
I have is wine.”

“Not anymore you
don’t!” I pulled the eggnog and brandy out of his stocking. “And even Woody
gets his kicks tonight.” I handed Woody the huge rawhide bone I’d gotten for
him. With the grace of a Westminster show dog, Woody gently took the bone from
my hand and walked downstairs to nibble on it in solitude.

Ryan smiled at
last. I hadn’t seen him smile in ages. And I realized just how much I adored
his smile. It was contagious and genuine. I adored his entire face. And it took
losing him for me to see how much of an impact it had on me.

“Eggnog,” he
said. “You remembered.”

“Yes, and I wouldn’t
have been able to sleep tonight knowing that you’d gone yet another Christmas
with no eggnog.”

 
He laughed again. I poured a little
eggnog with brandy into two glasses over ice.

“So what do you
think?” I asked.

“I’m impressed,”
he said, but he still wasn’t being himself. He was back to his standoffish
ways, and I was determined to get the sweet Ryan that I loved back, at least
for the night. If things had to be over, I wanted a good memory of the last
time we spent together; I didn’t want the commotion in my apartment to be what
lingered in both of our minds when we thought of one another. I’d practically
converted his home into Santa’s workshop, but still I was pulling teeth to get
him to be himself.

Handing him his
cocktail, I went back to the tree and began hanging ornaments. I wasn’t sure
what he thinking, but I hoped to inspire him to come and join me. “It’s really
a crime not to have a tree,” I said, making small talk.

“Elle, I
appreciate the gesture. But this doesn’t erase what happened.”

“I know that.” I
walked from the tree back toward him. “I just needed to do something big so
you’d just give me the chance to talk.”

“Okay, let’s
talk.”

I felt a weight
lift from my chest. That was all I wanted, to talk to him. He took a seat on
the sofa, gazing at the work I’d done, and I thought I noticed a bit of a
smile.

“What you saw,”
I said, “wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Then what was
it? You said you kissed him, right?”

“He kissed me.”

“That’s just another
way of saying the same thing.”

“Fair enough.
But the minute his lips touched mine”—I saw Ryan cringe as I
spoke—“I knew I was kissing the wrong guy. I never should have agreed to
meet with him.”

“So why did
you?”

I wasn’t sure how
to explain to Ryan why I did what I did. I took a few breaths, trying to figure
out how to put together an explanation that would make sense.

“He just took
such a toll on my self-esteem when things ended. I was so wounded. And then you
came along, and I completely forgot about him, but without getting any
closure.”

“If you loved
me, then why did you need closure?” he asked with an air of innocence. “What we
had should have been enough.”

“I did love
you.” The lump in my throat was returning. “I
do
love you. Ryan, you taught me what love is. Because of you, I
know what it looks like now. And God, did I screw up big. And I’m
so
sorry.”

“I love you
too.”

And in that
statement I found a glimmer of hope. If we loved each other, then we could work
it out.

“But I don’t
know, Elle. After what I went through with my ex, I can’t deal with any more
lies.”

“I understand
that. But at least give us one more chance. We were
so
good together, Ryan. I think you know that. And please, don’t
hold what your ex did against me.”

We were only
inches away from one another, face-to-face. Relieved to be with him, I nearly
forgot it was Christmas Eve. I had to be back at my parents’ early the next
day, and it was already nearly one o’clock in the morning. We were seated next
to one another on the sofa, his arm outstretched along the top edge of the
cushions, me seated near the gap between his arm and his torso.

“We were just
getting started in this amazing relationship, and then . . .” he said solemnly.

“Give me one
more chance.” The tears were now streaming down my cheeks. He gently wiped one,
looking down, seemingly unable to make eye contact with me. We were getting
closer and closer. “I’ll never take you for granted again. I’ll never keep
anything from you, ever. I promise.”

He didn’t speak
for several seconds. I wanted to throw all of the reasons we needed each other
at him. I remained silent, though, allowing him to gather his thoughts. As
desperately as I wanted him back, I knew in that moment that no matter what,
I’d always be okay. I was strong, and I had a good support system. I knew now
who I really was. And there was someone out there who would love me. I just
wanted that someone to be the man sitting before me.

Finally, Ryan
opened his mouth to speak. “Will you get two more stockings for you and Luna so
we can have a real Christmas together?”

“Yes!” I said,
leaning in and finally kissing him after weeks of longing for his lips. From
there, we stretched out onto the sofa. The kissing carried on. I savored every
breath, every touch; I’d never felt so satisfied.

“I missed you,”
he whispered.

“You have no
idea how much I’ve missed you.” I slowly unbuttoned his shirt as I grazed his
neck with my lips.

We went up to
his bedroom, where we rolled around laughing, kissing, and reminiscing about
the good times. There were so many, which was why we lay awake nearly all night
long. Every time I dozed off, I’d awaken in a euphoric state that I was in
Ryan’s bed and in his arms, almost surprised that we were even together again.
His body was warm and inviting, and he held on to me protectively, whispering,
“I love you” every few hours. Hands down, it was the best Christmas I could
ever remember.

23

 
Christmas
morning was a white one, and I took advantage of sleeping in an extra hour
since Luna wasn’t there to wake me. While I adored her typical routine of
gently nudging me until I woke, it was nice to sleep in for a change. When my
eyes finally opened, I became conscious of still being in Ryan’s arms. We made
love, and I was convinced I was exactly where I was supposed to be that Christmas
morning. Every year before, I’d spent the night at my parents’ house, but now I
finally felt like a grown-up. I was in love, and I wanted everyone to know. I
wasn’t screwing it up again.