Ever: I mean, I’m sure your family misses you.

Joe: And they’ll have me, for a day and some change. Then I’m heading west.

Ever: Goldrush?

Joe: Better than gold. See, there’s this girl.

Ever: There’s always a girl. Tell me more.

Joe: She is hot, she is into rad music, and she gets me.

Ever: Does she have a name?

Joe: Yes.

Joe: Mainstream.

Ever: LOL. I hate you.

Joe: While we’re on the subject of feelings, well, hold onto your butt cheeks, because I have a confession to make.

He started typing more, but I never saw what he wrote. I never replied.

Now the device I used to talk to him with is sitting at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, collecting rust and seaweed.

And I’m sitting right here, with a strange family, celebrating Mom’s absolute favorite holiday away from home.

Back in reality, we settle at the table. It is laden with sweet potato and fruitcake pies as well as wine and beer. “Just to nudge your appetite in the right direction before dinner.” Gemma’s church bells laughter rings through the warm, decorated room. I opt for wine and drain the first glass before the pies are cut. Dom silently pours me another one, throwing me a worried look. I have to keep myself together. But every time I glance Joe’s way, he is staring at me with what I’m beginning to recognize as awe and confusion, nursing his bottle of Guinness.

The memories must be rushing back to him now. How I ghosted him for no reason at all and disappeared from the face of the earth.

Dom, Gemma, and Brad are all engaged in small talk. About the bad traffic on our way here, and things to do in Dover during Christmas, and Oh, do you remember that time Mrs. Pavel’s house caught on fire when the kids lit up the chimney because they were scared of Santa? Tuning them out is no trouble at all.

The more I stare at Joe, the more I realize how my memory hasn’t done him any justice. He is not half as gorgeous as Dominic, yet I am drawn to him more. To his too-sharp nose, and the ears that poke out a little, and the curve of his lips that are always tilted in a slightly mocking grin. He is built like a quarterback. Muscular and sturdy and sun kissed, golden everywhere.

I can’t believe this is the third time we’ve met like this. Through kismet. Without meaning to. And that every single time we do, something gets in the way of our togetherness.

There are so many things I want to say to him, so many things I want to ask, to explain, but now is not the time. I doubt there will ever be a time.

Side note: I have to tell Dom. Immediately. Crap. What a mess.