To Say Goodbye by Lindsay Detwiler Page B

home, though, his emotions started to unwind. The fake enthusiasm of the day peeled away, revealing the cracked, broken man underneath.
    He was afraid to go home, afraid to find himself wallowing in sadness and, consequentially, in alcohol. He was afraid of hitting rock bottom again. He was afraid of being alone.
    So he did something a bit rash, a bit crazy.
    He turned his truck around and headed in the other direction, driving toward the one person he wanted to see, hoping she wasn’t too busy or too depressed or too anything to spend time with him.
    _______________
    “Jackson?” She was obviously surprised to see him at the door ten minutes later, and he was surprised to find her alone. The television played in the background, and she was wearing pajamas.
    “Am I interrupting?”
    “Definitely not,” she replied, ushering him in.
    “Are you alone?”
    “Should I be creeped out by that question?” she teased, smiling as she pulled her robe around her.
    “Sorry. Let me explain. You see, I thought about going home and watching some lame Christmas movies or drinking myself into a coma. So I didn’t have to think about my son, Tim, or Wade. But then I started thinking. You’re probably having a pretty crappy night too, right? I mean, best case scenario, I figured your family was hovering around you, telling you it would be okay, buying you fuzzy socks and perfume hoping they’ll make you forget about Tim.”
    She nodded, laughing. “That was my early evening spot-on.”
    “Okay. Then I figured worst case, you were here alone, wallowing in sadness, replaying your Christmases with Tim movie style to sappy music in your head, also drowning in a bottle of wine.”
    She sheepishly nodded, turning to eye the half-empty bottle of wine on the end table by the couch. “And that summarizes the rest of my night.”
    “I thought so. So on the way home from my family’s overly festive Christmas feast, I realized something. Since both of us are having a shitty Christmas, why not spend the evening together?”
    “Misery loves company?”
    “Sort of. More like, commiserating while also keeping each other out of depression status.”
    “And what did you have in mind?”
    “A walk?”
    “A walk? That was your master, soul-saving idea?”
    “Yep. A walk. In the freezing cold air. Two miserable friends walking on Christmas trying to abate the loneliness and shittiness of the season.”
    “Well, when you put it that way, how could I resist? Let me go change.”
    “Don’t change. Just throw a coat on. You don’t have to impress anyone today.”
    She eyed him like he was crazy, but the wine was probably dulling her rational thoughts. “Okay, then. Lead the way.”
    It’s a stupid idea, really , he thought as she followed him into the brisk December air. The moon was out, lighting their path. It was cold but not completely unbearable. It was a good temperature to walk with Sophia, to let the pure state of their friendship coupled with a jaunt through nature numb him to his thoughts.
    “Despite your lack of eloquence, I do appreciate this,” she said, turning to him. Her hands were shoved in her pockets, and her hair was in its customarily messy ponytail. “I told my parents to leave, that I was fine. I really wasn’t. I was in a pretty low place. You saved me from making a huge mistake, too.”
    “Oh yeah?”
    “Yeah. I was contemplating putting in our wedding video when you came to the door.”
    “What? Are you crazy?”
    “Yeah, I know. Masochistic at least. I just, I don’t know... I wanted to see him. You know?”
    “Yeah. I get it. But please don’t. Don’t do it. Not yet.”
    “So from the sounds of it, your holiday wasn’t much better?”
    He stared ahead, eying the glassy road as they meandered forward. “Nope. My ex-wife refused to budge on the custody agreement. She gets Christmas this year with Logan. I wanted to just stop by, to just see him for a little bit. She refused.”
    “She wouldn’t