He moved to the edge of the porch steps like he might bound off into the darkness. She could feel the agitation radiating from him, and she wrapped her arms around her waist to shield her from whatever was coming next.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. “Go home to your family, Ang. It’s over.”

“I don’t want you to be alone on Christmas.”

“You met my mother,” he said with a derisive laugh. “Clearly I’m not alone.”

She wanted to argue. It was clear as the night sky that he was as lonely as he’d ever been, maybe even more so because of his mother’s presence in the house.

“Not just today,” she said before she lost her nerve. “I miss you in general, Gabe. It’s more than just the holiday and I refuse to believe we’re over.”

“Of course we are,” he said. “That was the agreement.”

“No.” She stepped forward, praying that he wouldn’t bolt on her. “Or maybe it was, but everything changed.”

“You’re right.” He turned to her, his jaw tight and color high on his cheeks. “My grandmother died, and my mom is here now to take what belongs to her. I don’t have to pretend in order to make anyone happy.”

“I’m not pretending,” Angi said, opening her gaze and hoping she could get through to him. Praying it wasn’t too late. “I love you, Gabe.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.” She breathed out a soft laugh. “I’ve known it for a while. But at the dance when you took my hand—”

“That was part of the act.”

She shook her head, ignoring the way his words stung like the lash of a whip.

“I told you I’d keep it up until the new year,” he said, his voice just as icy as his demeanor. “But it ends now.”

“I don’t want it to end.” She held out a hand but gathered it to her body before he could take it. She didn’t know how to reach him when he was like this. “I know you feel something for me, too. Something real.”

“Pity,” he said, and she sucked in a breath. “You’re grasping at me because you’re too afraid to go after what you want in life. I feel sorry for you, Angi. And for Andrew, because he deserves a mother who knows how to stand up for herself and what she wants.”

“I want you,” she whispered, desperate to make this work even as she felt her heart splintering.

“I’m leaving town tomorrow.” He closed his eyes and shifted his gaze to the front yard, like he couldn’t even stand looking at her. “I won’t be back.”

“You can’t mean that.” Her voice cracked and she felt tears sting the back of her eyes. She dug her fingernails into the soft flesh of her palms, needing the physical pain to drown out everything else. “This is your home.”

“I don’t have anything here,” he said. “No business. No house. No—”

“You have me,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “You have Andrew and friends. Choose me. Choose us, Gabe. Don’t let your mom win.”