WHEN SHARI ENTERED her office the next morning, there were two small gifts on her desk, wrapped in blue and white paper with silver bows. An envelope with her name on it leaned against them. She put her things down, took off her coat and hung it, then opened the envelope.
It was a Chanukah card, with a photo of a fully lit gold menorah on the front, the nine candles each a different vibrant color. Inside, the copy read, May this Chanukah bring you miracles and light. All the handwriting was Evan’s messy scrawl, which she used to tease him about mercilessly. Now, the sight of it made her heart skip a beat. His words filled the entire card, both sides.
Dear Shari,
I know Chanukah isn’t a big deal . . . but you are. You are a VERY big deal to me, and I’m so sorry I made you doubt that.
I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you. And I understand that right now you may not be ready to talk to me.
In the meantime, I want you back so bad it aches, and I can’t wait around for a Chanukah miracle. So I intend to give you a gift for every night of Chanukah to remind you of what we’ve meant to each other. Since last night was the third night, and you probably won’t let me see you tonight, I’m giving you gifts #3 and #4 this morning. Then I’m caught up, and tomorrow will be #5, etc. Maybe some of them will put that “miracle of light” back into your heart when you think about us. As for me . . . you’re all I think about.
We are great together. We were happy. I blew it up. Thinking we needed a break and brushing you off are the biggest mistakes I’ve made in a long time.
I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you, and I’m not above bribing you with gifts. You know us lawyers, we can play dirty sometimes . . .
So, this is me groveling. Please can we talk soon? Let me know when you’re ready.
I miss you. I love you.
Yours always, Evan
Shari felt a rush of adrenaline, a heady mixture of delight and disbelief, whoosh through her body. She read the card twice more in astonishment. Evan had really poured his heart out. He’d never gotten so raw and emotional like this before. In fact, no one had ever written her such a romantic card or letter in her life. As she put it carefully into her tote bag, she noticed her hands were trembling and she sank into her chair.
Yes, he’d screwed up. Yes, he’d hurt her deeply, for several reasons. Yes, she missed him and loved him, too. Yes, she’d also been thinking about him nonstop. But the bottom line was, if what they wanted for the future were different things, what was the point of continuing to be together? If they had to end it at some point, wouldn’t it be easier now than later?
Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, she reached for the first gift and tore at the wrapping paper. A dry laugh escaped her lips and she shook her head as she pulled out a royal blue New York Mets T-shirt. During their first real date, over dinner, he’d asked her if she was a Mets fan or a Yankees fan. When she said Mets, he’d breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Knew you were awesome.” They’d attended several games together at Citi Field over the summer. Those were some of her best memories with him; sitting in the sun on a Saturday or Sunday, eating junk food, watching the game, chatting about whatever, and just relaxing. He was always reaching for her hand, raising it to kiss her knuckles or just hold it in his lap. Remembering with a sweet sigh, she folded the shirt and put it into her tote, glad it was a tremendous bag.
The next gift was a little heavier. She tore away the wrapping paper and sucked in a breath. In the box was a pint glass from O’Reilly’s Tavern, their favorite place to grab a drink after work. Only two blocks from the office, it was a warm, cozy Irish pub that always had good music playing, a welcoming atmosphere, and room to move. She loved that place. Shari couldn’t even count how many drinks they’d shared there. Or how many laughs, or kisses . . . If they broke up for good, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to walk into that pub again.
Setting the glass aside, she reached for her phone and called him.
“Evan Sonntag,” he answered.
“You’re playing dirty,” she said.
“Yup, and I’m not sorry. Is it working?” he asked hopefully.
“Evan . . .” She sighed, the awkwardness creeping into her chest. “We do need to talk. But I’m not ready to see you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m going to want to just fall back into your arms, back to how things were, and that’s not going to solve anything.”
“I don’t know, it sounds good to me.”
“We have issues to work out,” she reminded him.
“I’m very aware of that,” he said. “And I’m taking responsibility for my part. I’m just asking you to hear me out, Shari.”
“I can’t now,” she said. She reached for one of the silver bows and fidgeted with it. “I have to be in court at ten-thirty. I need to do a bit of prep, then I’m gone all day.”
“Have dinner with me, then.”
“No, Evan. Just . . . not yet.”
He was quiet on his end for a long beat. “You’re punishing me.”
She opened her mouth to dispute that, but realized maybe she was, a little. “I didn’t intend to. I just . . . I still need some space.”
“Shari—”
“Don’t push me. I mean it.”
He huffed out a frustrated sigh. “All right. But tell me . . . did you like the card?”
Her breath caught and she cleared her throat. “Yes. It was beautiful. Heartfelt. It meant a lot, really. And the gifts were perfect. But I have to go now.”
“I’m glad you liked all of it,” he said. “But . . . can I at least text you once in a while? I miss not talking to you. The little texts throughout the day, those used to keep me going. I miss that. I miss your voice. Dammit, Shari, I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” she whispered. “And I love you, too. But that doesn’t mean this is going to work out. You of all people know that sometimes love isn’t enough if the two people want completely different things.”
Tonya appeared at her doorway with a thick file bursting with papers.
“I have to go,” Shari said quickly. “Have a good day.” And she ended the call.
THE NEXT MORNING, Shari walked into her office to find Evan had gotten in before her— there was another present on her desk, a rectangle wrapped in the same blue and white Chanukah paper. A small netted bag of chocolate gold coins was taped to it instead of a bow. The note taped to them said, Some Chanukah gelt to assuage the guilt. Ba dum dum. She had to snort at that. Then she carefully ripped open the wrapping paper.
He’d given her a hardcover copy of the book Outlander, one of her favorites. He knew she’d read all the books in the series, and by the fall she’d convinced him to watch the television show with her. She’d talked about it a lot, the show and the books. Then she’d been so excited to get the second DVD when it came out that they had a marathon one rainy weekend in early October— the first eight episodes on Saturday, the second eight on Sunday. They’d cuddled in bed as they watched the show on her laptop, ordering dinner in both nights so they’d never have to get dressed.
He knows I have this, she thought as she looked at the book. Granted, her paperback copy was dog-eared from multiple readings, but . . . wait. She opened the cover and turned to the title page. It had been autographed by the famous author herself. Shari gasped like the fan girl she was.
She grabbed her phone and hit speed dial. As soon as Evan picked up, she demanded, “How on earth did you get an autographed copy of Outlander?”
“You like it?”
“It’s—It’s wonderful. It’s a very thoughtful gift,” she admitted. “But how?”
“I have my ways,” he said.
“Tell me.”
“Have dinner with me, and I will.”
Her eyes narrowed and she hissed. “That’s blackmail.”
“That’s right.”
“I can’t, Evan. I have plans.”
“No you don’t,” he said. “You just still don’t want to see me.”
She hesitated, but finally said quietly, “You really hurt me.”
“I know, honey. I’m so sorry.” His gentle tone radiated remorse. “So, so sorry. I’ll keep apologizing if you need to hear it.”
“Maybe I do need to hear it,” she said, a drop of defensiveness in her voice.
“Okay. Then I’ll keep saying it. I’m sorry. I genuinely am. And I want to fix this. So have dinner with me, please.”
“I told you, I have plans.”
“That was the truth?” he said.
“Yes!” She snorted out a laugh. “It’s Adrienne’s birthday, a couple of us are taking her out tonight.”
“Can I come along?”
“Ladies only, sorry.”
Evan paused. She could almost feel him thinking. Then he said, “Okay. Have a great time.”
“Thanks.” Half of her was relieved she wouldn’t see him, yet . . . half of her was disappointed. She was still so torn between whether she should go back to him or not. Until she knew for sure, it wasn’t fair to get his hopes up with a dinner date, right? That’s what she told herself.
“Tomorrow’s Friday,” he said. “The Chanukah Fairy will have to drop your last gifts off over the weekend to keep this going correctly. He wants to make sure you’ll be home on Saturday?”
“Evan,” she said as her stomach went wobbly. “I’m going to Philly for the weekend. Home to see my family, end of Chanukah and all that. You forgot?”
“I’m sorry, I did,” he admitted. “Shit. Okay, right. When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow afternoon, around one. I took a half day.” She twisted back and forth in her chair in an edgy swaying motion. “Going to bring my suitcase to work, head right over to Penn, get to Amtrak, yada yada yada. I’ll be home in time for dinner.”
“When will you be back?”
“Sunday night. Probably take a late train, get back to the city around ten.”
“I hate that I didn’t know,” he said.
“You did know,” she reminded him. “I told you I was going to be gone for the weekend. I told you over a month ago.”
“Yes, you did. It slipped my mind. My mind’s been on other things this week,” he said, a hint of frustration in his tone. “Like work, and my family, and most of all how I was a stupid pansy-ass and blew up the best relationship I’ve ever had.”
“Evan . . . you’re not a stupid pansy-ass if you meant everything you said.” She reached up for a lock of her hair and twirled it around her finger. “If you don’t want to be in a relationship that’s long-term, I’m glad I know that now, instead of later.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to be in a long-term relationship,” he said tersely. “I said I didn’t think I wanted to get married. I also said I didn’t think I did, not one hundred percent definitely never.”
“But what does that mean, exactly?” she asked. She could feel her cheeks get a little hot as the blood rushed to them. “I’m not asking you to commit to me right now, right here, for the rest of your life. That wouldn’t be fair. But if you don’t want to get married, that’s something you should have told me from the start. And you didn’t.”
“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
“No, and I shouldn’t.”
“But I’ve apologized,” he said.
“Yes, and I appreciate that. But it doesn’t undo it, and even more importantly . . .” Her voice trailed off. Did she really want to say this? If she did, she couldn’t take it back. It’d be out there. She swore under her breath.
“Whatever you were about to say, Shari,” Evan demanded, “just say it. You’re one of the boldest women I’ve ever met. Don’t get shy on me now.”
That made up her mind for her. “Okay. What I’ve been thinking these past few days is, if we now know you don’t want to get married someday, and we know that I do, what’s the point of continuing to see each other? It’s going to have to come to an end at some point if we have this impasse. So before we both get in any deeper—”
“I’m already in deep!” he cried. “I’m crazy in love with you. I don’t want to break up, I don’t want to end this!”
“But it’ll just hurt even worse later when it does end,” she said sadly. “Don’t you get that?”
“I—we—dammit!” She heard a loud sound, like maybe he’d kicked something. “Can we please get together and talk about this face-to-face?”
“Why?” she asked. “I have a valid point. You know I’m right.”
“I don’t know that you’re right,” he said. “And this suddenly sounds something like an ultimatum. I don’t do ultimatums, Shari.”
Her chest got tight and her blood simmered through her veins. “That’s not what I was doing, Evan. Not at all.”
“Really? Because it kind of sounds like it.” His voice went low, the words tinged with anger. “Marry me or I’m leaving, that’s what it sounds like on this end.”
She huffed out air, the irritation morphing quickly into something darker. “That is not what I said, or even implied. What I said was, if we know this is going to end, why keep it up knowing that and knowing it’ll hurt even more later? That is not an ultimatum. That’s just common sense.”
“According to whom?”
“According to me. And since I’m now royally pissed off, I’m hanging up.”
“Shari, wait.”
“Nope. I’m getting off before either of us say something we regret. ’Bye.” She hit the button to end the call and had a fleeting vision of throwing the phone across the room, watching it shatter into pieces as it hit the wall. Her heart was racing and her face felt hot. She knew she was probably as red as a beet, as she always got when she was angry or upset. Thankfully, she had a great poker face when on the job. It was amazing how she managed to keep cool in her professional life but not in her personal life.
How had that conversation started off so nicely and ended in a blaze of fire? He wasn’t hearing her. He was so desperate to win her back that he wasn’t looking at the bigger picture. She bounded up from her chair and stalked out of her office, down the hall to the water cooler.
Evan had it wrong. She wasn’t issuing an ultimatum. She was trying to protect both of them from getting hurt even worse down the line. Or, at this point, maybe just herself. Because every strained conversation this week, every disagreement, felt like another step away from each other instead of back to each other.