Jillian Dodd - Hate Me

“Not until it comes true.”

“Hmm. Okay. What’s next?”

He hands me another box, this one containing a cotton candy machine. “Is this for the same reason as the Ferris wheel? Except we didn’t eat cotton candy together.”

“No, I dragged you away from Riley when he was licking cotton candy off your hand. So, no. It’s because your hair always smells like cotton candy.” He leans in and kisses my temple. “You always smell good enough to eat.”

I close my eyes tightly, willing away the heat I can instantly feel rising between my legs. I purse my lips and smile at him.

“You have a dirty mind. I like it,” he whispers in my ear in the low, husky voice that makes me melt.

“Well, maybe, a little.”

I open another ornament, this one a chapel. I think about how I spilled my guts to him. How he stopped during the game and asked me if I was okay. How sad it was when I planned on leaving him. I feel choked up again.

He says, “It reminds me of the chapel at school. Of our spot. Where I promised not to pretend punch your head.”

“It reminds me of how nice you could be even when I hated you.”

“You never hated me.”

“No, but I thought you hated me, so I told myself I hated you.”

“We had a rocky start, huh?”

“Yeah, we did. Damn Logan.”

“Would it have changed things?”

“Yeah, we’d probably have dated and then broken up by now. So everything was probably for the best.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I’ve changed a lot since we first met.”

“You’re stronger.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you’ve been through a lot. Coming to Eastbrooke at the last minute. The stuff that went on with your friend. Your boyfriend leaving you for a year. All the stuff with Dawson. With Whitney. With Chelsea. With me. You’re good at hiding it, though. I think Riley and I are the only ones you let in. Besides Damian.”

“Yeah. So, next bag. This is the last one.”

“And these are some of my favorites.”

The first one I open is a red bag with two baguettes sticking out of the top. “What’s this one for?”

“French class. Tutoring with food. Our tutoring field trip. The dances in my room when we should have been studying. French body parts.”

“I love it.” I open the next one. A Santa dressed in pink with the cancer symbol. “For your mom?”

“Yeah. It made her really happy when I won Mr. Eastbrooke. And that’s all because of you. I’ve grown this year too. At least, that’s what my mom tells me.”

“Well, we know you’ve gotten taller. That’s why you had to shop.”

“I don’t mean that kind of growth. I mean not sleeping around. Waiting for the right girl. Knowing you’re worth every ounce of frustration. Knowing that—well, open another one.”

“Um, okay.” This one is a street sign that says Sunset Blvd. “Dual meaning? Our sunsets and the fact that California is where we’re both from?”

“That you watch sunsets with me. That I even had the guts to tell you why they were special. I’ve never shared those parts of me with anyone. No one at school even knows my mom had cancer.”

“I’m glad you shared those things with me. And we saw the green flash together.”

“Close your eyes,” he says. “I want you to see these together.” I close my eyes and listen to him unwrap ornaments. “Okay, open.”

Lying on the table in front of me is a soccer ball, a four-leaf clover, an Eiffel Tower, and two dolphins jumping out of the water. I don’t want to be a big baby and start crying again, so I joke, “Hmm. I’m not sure what any of those mean.”

He kisses me deeply then says, “Fine. I’ll tell you. These are all about luck and fate. It was fate you kicked the soccer ball at my head and made me instantly fall for you. It’s fate that I’ll ask you to marry me someday. But it was luck that I found a four-leaf clover to give you, and every time we’ve given each other a clover, it’s helped us both be lucky. And it was luck that we got to see the dolphins. You’ve made me lucky.”

“You helped me make dance team. Gave me the glass clover before my speech. And drew one on my leg for the play. You’ve been sharing the luck.”

“So which one are we? Luck or fate?”

“I guess only time will tell, huh?”

He nods. “Yeah, it will. So, only a few more. This one is about me.”

He pulls a Santa out of its box. This Santa isn’t holding a bag of presents, he’s holding a glass of wine and standing behind of a wine barrel with grapes on it.

“Your dream of owning a vineyard. That one I know.”

“How about this one?” he says, taking another ornament out. This one is an adorable yellow Labrador retriever puppy.

“You want this kind of dog someday?”

“Yep. You cool with that?”

“Yeah, I love dogs.”

“Perfect. Last one. Hold out your hands.”

I do what he asks and close my eyes. I’m sure he saved the best for last. He puts it gently in my cradled palms.

I open my eyes and see a flat scene of a sandy beach, a palm tree, the ocean, and the bright sun. “St. Croix?”

“Damian asked our family to celebrate Christmas with his family there. I wasn’t sure what your plans are, but I’d like to spend the holiday with you.”

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I need to talk to my mom about it.”

“I know. I just thought . . . I know they’ve been there before. Maybe your family could go too? I’d love to meet them.”

“I’d love for you to meet them, too. Aiden, I . . .”

I almost say it. Almost blurt out the truth. I want to tell him what happened. What’s going to happen. But I don’t. I don’t want to ruin this perfect day. I don’t want him to walk out on me.

It’s so selfish, I know. But there’s another big reason I can’t tell him.

He’d want to help, and I couldn’t take another photo of someone I love with the back of their head blown off.

“ . . . I, um, thank you for the tree. You have no idea how much this all means to me.”

“I’m glad. Let’s finish decorating.”

After we’ve decorated, we turn off all the lights except for the ones illuminating the tree and snuggle on the couch, staring at its beauty.

“Time for our bubble bath,” Aiden says about a half hour later.

I run the water, loading it up with bubbles, while Aiden goes to refill our wine glasses. He comes back in with a silver ice bucket and champagne instead.

I squint my eyes at him questioningly.

“Gotta have bubbly for the bubbles, right? I just corked the rest of the wine. We’ll have it tomorrow night.”

“Yeah, but if we’re gonna have champagne . . .”

“Wait, don’t finish that sentence.” He runs out of the bathroom and comes back with a little plate of chocolate truffles.

“It’s official. I do fucking love you,” I say.

“I fucking love you too. Now, let’s get naked.”

Lied myself into a corner.

6pm

We shop all day and then head back to my loft. We had a ball picking out a bunch of crazy puppets for my sisters, secret Santa gifts, and all sorts of presents for our families and friends.

Aiden wouldn’t let me see what he was buying for his naughty Santa, but I will admit, I peeked at his list. Part of it was written in some sort of godly code, but there was an M next to the naughty Santa, so I know he drew Maggie.

I can’t wait to see what he got her. Well, mostly to see what he considers naughty.

I was fortunate that when I had packages shipped to France, I was able to say that I didn’t want to have to travel with them. I told Aiden that I’m spending Christmas with my family, but I’m not.