Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Holidate Pact: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

**JACKSON**The alarm screams at six AM. My head feels like someone took a hammer to it.Whiskey. Too much whiskey.I grab my phone. Seventeen notifications. All from Sloane.I swipe them away without reading. Can't. Not yet.The shower water runs too hot. I don't adjust it. Let it burn. Maybe the pain will clear my head.It doesn't.Coffee in the hotel restaurant tastes like dirt. I force it down anyway.Mike slides into the booth across from me. Takes one look at my face."You look like shit.""Feel like shit.""The fight?"I stare at him. "How did you know?""Mate. The whole hotel heard you."Perfect. Great. Just what I need."Want to talk about it?""No."He signals the waitress. Orders eggs. Toast. Orange juice. I can barely look at food."You need to eat something. Practice round in an hour.""I'm fine.""You're not fine."I drink more coffee. My hands shake slightly. Mike notices. Says nothing.The practice range is crowded. Other players warming up. The sound of clubs hitting

**SLOANE**The hotel notepad was cheap. The kind that tears funny when you rip it off.4:17 AM. I'd been staring at it for an hour.*Jackson...*No. Too formal.*I went back to Chicago.*My hand shook. The pen made a small dot on the paper. Permanent. Like the damage I'd already done.*I'm sorry. I love you. But we both need space to think. -S*Pathetic. Six years of copywriting and that's what I came up with.But it was true. All of it.I slipped the note under his door on the third floor. Room 314. I'd memorized it when he texted me the number yesterday. Before everything fell apart.The hallway was silent. Just the hum of the ice machine and my breathing.I walked back to my room. Packed in ten minutes. Left the key card on the dresser.The rental car smelled like artificial pine. I adjusted the seat. The mirrors. Anything to delay the inevitable.Then I drove.Milwaukee to Chicago. Three and a half hours normally. I made it in four because I had to pull over twice to cry.The inte

**SLOANE**"You look like hell."My laptop screen reflected my face back at me. Maya was right. I did look like hell."Thanks. That's exactly what I needed to hear.""When's the last time you showered?"I glanced at the timestamp on my last opened document. Tuesday. It was now Friday."Recently enough.""Sloane.""I'm working. The Morningside campaign needs revisions by Monday.""The Morningside campaign was approved three days ago. I checked with your boss."Damn it.I closed my laptop. Stared at the pile of takeout containers on my coffee table. Chinese. Thai. More Chinese. I'd lost track."Have you talked to him?" Maya asked."No.""Has he tried to contact you?""He texted. Once. Said he was sorry.""And you said?""Nothing."Maya's sigh came through the phone crystal clear."You can't avoid him forever.""Watch me."I hung up before she could lecture me more.My phone rang immediately. My mother this time.I let it go to voicemail. She'd already left four today. All variations of

**SLOANE**"You need to eat something."Maya stood in my doorway. Holding a bag from the Thai place down the street. The smell made my stomach turn."I'm not hungry.""You haven't been hungry in two weeks. Eat anyway."She pushed past me. Set the bag on my counter. Started unpacking containers like she owned the place.Pad Thai. Spring rolls. Tom Yum soup.I sat on the couch. Stared at the wall.His golf clubs were still in the corner. Right where he'd left them three weeks ago. Before Milwaukee. Before everything.I should have called him to pick them up. Should have done a lot of things.Maya appeared with a plate. Shoved it in my hands."Eat.""I saw him yesterday."She went still."Where?""Mel's. With Mike. They were looking at papers. Contracts maybe.""Did you talk to him?"I shook my head."He saw you?""Yeah.""And?""I ran. Like a coward. He chased me. I hid in the bodega until he left."Maya sat next to me. Took the plate back. Set it on the coffee table."Sloane.""I know.

**SLOANE**"That'll be forty-three fifty."The cashier smiled at me. I didn't smile back. Just handed her my card.The sweater for my dad sat in the bag. Blue. Cashmere. Expensive. He'd never wear it.I didn't care. Shopping was something to do. Better than sitting in my apartment staring at Jackson's golf clubs.The mall was packed. Families. Couples. People who looked happy.I hated all of them.A woman bumped into me. Didn't apologize. Just kept walking with her boyfriend's hand in hers.They were laughing about something. His arm around her shoulders. Her leaning into him.I wanted to scream.Instead I walked to the next store. Bath and Body Works. Maya loved their candles.The smell hit me immediately. Cinnamon. Pine. All the Christmas scents.Last year I'd been here with Jackson. He'd made fun of every single candle."Who wants their house to smell like a fake tree?""People who don't have real trees.""Then get a real tree.""I live in an apartment.""So do I. Doesn't stop me."