Read Merry Christmas, Paige for Free Online

up. Hell. She’d go to Timbuktu if she had to.
    “Do you want me to wire you money?”
    “No.” She had made a telephone call to her bank. They were arranging everything through one of the banks here. During one of her night excursions through the cottage she had discovered the refrigerator had been stocked with food, but who could eat? Maybe it would be better if she just hid out in the cottage until the weather cleared.
    A knock on the door made her heart skip a beat. She cupped the telephone. “Oh God,” she whispered into the receiver. “I think he’s here. What do I do?”
    “Honey, what do you want to do?” her mother asked, while Susan remained unusually quiet.
    From out of nowhere, a dam of tears burst. The sudden pain in her chest felt like her heart had been torn asunder. “I want—” Sorrow and grief rose so quickly it stole Paige’s breath. “I want to quit hurting.” Her anguish was so gut-wrenching it bled from the very depths of her soul. She couldn’t speak. When she did, the mask of anger she’d used to cover the truth dissolved. “I want to run into his arms.” She covered her mouth as if she could restrain the flood of emotion spilling out. “I want to forget these last five years.” She sobbed uncontrollably. She pressed a hand to her chest, which heaved with each ragged inhale/exhale. “I-I don’t want to be alone anymore. Mom,” she choked, “I love him. I love him so much that it feels like I’m dying.” Paige’s confession was followed by an unladylike snort.
    “Oh, Paige. Sweetheart. Please stop crying,” her mother begged, as she wept right alongside Paige. Even Susan participated in their cry-fest, her sniffles coming over the telephone loud and clear. “Dammit. You should have never gotten off that airplane.”
    But she had and for whatever reason fate was taking another shot at her. A tremor raced through her. She struggled to rein in her emotion, to squelch the tears that refused to stop.
    “Don’t answer the door.” Susan’s voice quivered. “Pretend you’re not there.”
    Like that would work. Paige had no transportation—no money. By now Nathan would know she was stranded. Besides, it was midmorning. Where else would she be?
    Another knock, but this time it was harder, louder. “Paige, I know you’re in there.”
    She stared out the window at the gray sky and the falling rain. The ocean churned with the same ferocity as the acid in her stomach. “It’s him. He knows I’m here.” Her tears slowed, but not the shudders raking her body. “I need to go.”
    “Will you be okay?” Concern raised her mother’s voice.
    No, but she said, “Yes.”
    “Will you call us?” Susan asked.
    “When I can. Bye.” Slowly Paige hung up the telephone and set it aside. Her legs felt leaden as she uncurled them. Wiping at her remaining tears, she got out of bed, catching her reflection in the mirror. Dark circles, swollen eyes. She looked like hell, and there was nothing she could do to hide the fact she’d been crying.
    Another knock made her tighten the sash around the soft cotton robe she wore. Ready or not, she had to face the music. Tell Nathan goodbye for the last time.
    The floor was cool beneath her bare feet as she made her way through the bedroom into the living room. The naupaka flower lying on the table caught her eye and she paused to look at it. Amazingly, the two parts were still joined.
    “Paige, open up. Please. I need to talk to you.”
    She briefly closed her eyes and prayed she could get through their encounter and remain whole in the process. It had taken her too many years just to accept that they would never be together. She pressed her hand to the door and knew this was the closest she could ever be to Nathan.
    He knocked harder, the door shaking.
    Her trembling fingers folded around the doorknob and she twisted.
     
    The minute Nathan saw Paige’s tearstained face, guilt rode him hard. For a moment he didn’t know what to say. “Are