she admits. “No. Idea. I don’t even know who my neighbors are if that gives you any indication.”
It sounds lonely and sad to me, but I keep that to myself and offer a smile.
When the waitress drops off our check, I hurry and grab it.
“I can pay my part,” Sarah insists.
“A gentleman never allows a lady to pay.” I slide my card to the end of the table, and once Kellie grabs it, she quickly returns the slip with a pen. After leaving a tip, we get up and make our way outside.
We walk back to her house, and I can hear Christmas music lingering from the small shops downtown, and Sarah hums to “Joy to the World.” We fall into step as memories of us together taking over my mind. Once we make it to her front door, I know it’s time to say goodbye.
“Thanks so much for lunch,” she says sweetly and rolls the hem of her shirt, another nervous habit.
I grin. “You’re welcome. Maybe we can do it again before you leave?”
“Yeah, I’d like that. It was great seeing you, Cole,” she tells me with a smirk. “Plus, the uniform is a sight for sore eyes.”
Chuckling, I’m not sure how to take that kind of compliment. Sarah’s always been outspoken and flirty, probably why she’s a great news anchor. People love her bubbly personality, but it’s hard not to.
“Good seeing you too, Sarah.” I give her a side-smile, then force myself to turn and walk to my patrol car before I say something I regret.
When I climb in, I notice she’s still standing on the steps watching me with her head tilted and bottom lip tucked into her mouth. I give her a wave, then she walks inside. Though it wasn’t the first time I’ve seen her since she’s been home, I certainly hope it’s not the last.
Chapter Three
SARAH
I haven’t been able to get Cole off my mind since we had lunch two days ago. Is it possible to forget your first love? Probably not.
I’ve tried to run into him by taking Golden on random walks downtown but haven’t had any luck.
Tonight’s the Christmas tree lighting, and the excitement in the whole town is palpable. We’ve had snow flurries on and off all day, but it’s supposed to stop this afternoon.
Shortly after five, Mom comes home from work and immediately jumps in the shower.
“All the lights worked?” I ask Dad when he returns from finalizing everything for tonight.
He grins ear to ear. “Yeah, and I can’t wait for you to see it. Seriously, it’s like a fireworks show, but with lights on the giant tree.”
Mom enters with a smile, wearing a fluffy red sweater and jeans with boots. “We’re gonna leave in about an hour. Almost ready?” she asks while putting on her earrings.
“For the most part. Just need to freshen up my makeup. Shouldn’t take that long,” I explain.
“Great. I’m gonna whip up something to eat really quick, then we can head out.”
“Sounds good,” I tell her before going to my room.
I change into a thicker sweater and even curl my hair though I know it probably won’t stay. As I put on lipstick, I wonder if I’ll see Cole again. I hope I do.
It was great catching up with him, even if it was a little awkward. Breaking up with Cole was the hardest decision of my life, but I was committed to my career and wanted to see where it led. My hectic schedule caused a significant strain on our long-distance relationship. While it was a mutual agreement, I still carry the burden of it being my fault.
He was the love of my life, and seeing him brought back so many wonderful memories. He was my best friend and is still the only man I’ve ever loved. Though it’s been over five years, I haven’t been able to get over him. Love like that doesn’t just fade away.
“Dinner’s ready,” Mom eventually calls from the kitchen. When I join her, I see she’s made grilled cheese and tomato soup—one of my favorite comfort meals.
The three of us sit at the table to eat. Once we’re finished, we layer on our jackets and hats, then leave.
As we stroll to the town square, I soak in my surroundings as adolescent memories flood in. There wasn’t a weekend in high school when Cole and our friends weren’t walking around here.
As soon as the huge tree comes into view, I gasp. I don’t remember it being this big. It