Cake, Pumpkin Bread, Hot Mulled Wine. Carefully, I remove the paper, so that I can save the recipes. Gasping at the lid of the Kraft colored box emblazoned in white script Christian Louboutin Paris, my hands begin to shake.
Opening the box, any slight doubt I may have had as to the sender, dissipates. The box contains the same style black pumps I lost in the flood. Clearly not a coincidence. Searching the box, there is no note, anywhere.
I really don’t want to contact him. If I reach out it could be misinterpreted that I want a dialogue. And I don’t. I want to heal, rid myself of the unceasing thoughts I have trouble controlling. And they are OCD-like obsessive. I can’t extricate him from my heart and he remains, steadfast, an unwanted criminal, who has stolen from me more than I ever thought I possibly possessed.
Do I send them back? Wear them around the house naked as a big fuck you? Throw them out (no, that’s a stupid thought).
There was a box outside my front door when I got home. I text Monica.
What was in it?
Black Louboutins. Same ones I lost in the flood.
Hale?
It’s got to be.
Have you called him?
No.
Are you going to call him?
No.
Are you going to thank him?
I don’t know.
Are you going to keep them?
I don’t know.
What size are your feet?
8
Those aren’t feet, those are banana boats
Bitch
Hehe. Well wrong size for me or I would have taken the burden off your hands … or feet ?
Why would he do this?
It’s his Christmas present to you.
That’s so weird.
No it’s not. He’s obviously thinking about you, Sierra. He wants to talk to you. Maybe you should talk to him.
If he wants to talk to me it’s only because I was the one who said fuck you and he likes to be the one in power.
What he did was very fucked up – on a lot of levels, but I think he had feelings for you and obviously he still has.
Ugh. I can’t wait to go to Vegas.
New Year’s is going to be EPIC.
I need epic. I think I’ll wear my new Louboutins out on New Year’s Eve.
You’re evil.
Thank you for the replacement shoes. That was really unnecessary.
I didn’t do it because it was necessary, Sierra.
Well, thank you anyway and Happy Holidays to you and your family.
Same to you and yours. Will you be home during the holidays?
No. I’ll be traveling.
Stay safe, Sierra.
Thank you.
I stare at that conversation and cry. Part of me wants to get in my car and drive across the river to his building. But I don’t even know if he is in town anymore. Showing up there would lead to one thing. Sex. And afterwards I’d feel shitty and weak. Totally pathetic that with a gift I go running back to a man that lied about loving me. Lord knows I should’ve learned about him and his gifts from the chain he gave me.
It isn’t worth setting back my heart’s healing any more than the shoes have already done. So I just stay home and cry and swear I am going to have a wild time in Vegas and come back with a new outlook and ready to start the new year living again.
“Are you ever going to go after her?” Garber lifts the beer bottle to his lips. With just a soft cast on his leg, he is semi-mobile, but not ready to report back to work.
“I don’t know that there’s any point. She doesn’t trust me. Not a great way to start a relationship.”
“She does not know how much you love her, Hale. If she knew, I’ll bet she’d feel different.”
“Maybe.” I finish my beer. “But I think it’s time for me to just move on. I was fine before her. I’ll be fine without her.”
“Are you happy without her?”
“Do I look happy?”
“No, you look like a miserable sack of shit.”
“Yeah, well I feel like a miserable sack of shit. I’ve been thinking about spending the holidays out on Nantucket.”
“By yourself?”
“Yeah. You’re welcome to stay here while I’m gone.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Pausing, “Lundström, why aren’t you going and getting the girl? Drive over there right now and pound on her door.”
“Because she’s done with me.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“Yeah buddy, I do. I fucked this up on so many levels. It took her two damn days to even text me to thank me for those shoes.”
“I thought that would at least start a conversation.”
“Yeah. Me too. But no such luck. She made it