Chapters (42)
- Cover
- ADVANCE PRAISE FOR Kiss Her Once for Me
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Last Christmas
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- This Christmas
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Acknowledgements
- More from the Author
- About the Author
- ALSO BY ALISON COCHRUN
“Is that why you were crying? Because your parents don’t care?”
I inhale slowly through my nostrils. She just handed me so much of herself, and I’m not sure I know how to do the same. “It’s… something like that.”
She flicks her chin to get her hair out of her eyes, and I know this isn’t enough. I reach into my shoulder bag and pull out a pencil, like a security blanket. “Honesty. I just moved to Portland a month ago because I got a job at Laika Studios, and it’s been really challenging, way more challenging than I thought it would be. I’ve always been naturally talented as an artist. I mean, I’ve worked hard at it, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think I’ve had to work as hard as some of my peers. It’s come fairly easy to me. But at Laika, I have to work hard, and it’s been draining.
“I bought my mom a plane ticket so we could spend Christmas together, because with everything at work, I really didn’t want to be alone for the holidays. This morning, she called to tell me she didn’t get on the plane. She said it was because of the snow in the forecast, but she just met this new guy named Ted, so…”
I trace the tip of my pencil along my napkin, outlining a vague shape. “My mom has a pattern of putting her relationships with men before me, so I’m sure Ted is in line to become husband number four. Another failed marriage to add to her growing collection.”
“Do you really think that?” she asks abruptly. “That a relationship is a failure if it doesn’t last forever?”
My hand pauses over the napkin. “Well, I mean, isn’t forever the goal of marriage?”
Jack’s jaw tightens for a minute, and I study her profile as she turns to look out at the snow. It’s obvious I’ve said something wrong, but I’m not sure what it is. “I think marriage is just promising to love someone as long as you can for as best you can. I think relationships can be exactly what they’re supposed to be,” she says, eyes still on the snow, “even if they only last for one year, or five years, or even just for one day. The good parts of the time you spent with a person don’t go away simply because the relationship ends.”