When the cab pulled away, one person remained on the pavement—Amy’s new guy. He took a small collection of letters out of his inside pocket and started thumbing through them aimlessly. I wondered why he hadn’t gone in the cab with everyone else.

Suddenly, he also turned and waved, as another young man joined him from a store across the mall. This dark-haired man held up a shopping bag as if pleased with his purchase. Laughing, he placed a hand on New Guy’s shoulder then leaned forward and lightly kissed him on the mouth.

My heart stopped, though the scene continued to roll.

It was Jacob. Slim, good-looking Jacob wrapped in an expensive new coat, looking taller and leaner and with a sharper haircut than I’d ever seen. Jacob, handing New Guy his bag to hold, and taking the letters in return from him. My Jacob, smiling at the blond man as if they were on such friendly terms that they browsed each other’s mail, and went shopping together. Very friendly terms.

The pain was so sharp that I felt wrenched in two.

“We’re not like that,” I’d said to Matt at Harry’s party, answering for both myself and Jacob in my arrogant way.

“He won’t wait forever,” Matt had replied, and I’d pretended I didn’t know what he meant. And why on earth should Jacob wait? He was great looking, a good companion, and full of that innate kindness that I’d presumed on so many damned times. Jacob deserved the very best. He was bound to be snapped up by someone who was. . . not me.

The shock of realization took my breath away.

New Guy twirled something between his fingers, a grin on his face. It was mistletoe, a great, fat, glowingly healthy bunch of it. Jacob looked across at him and smiled back, though distractedly. My misery gave way to a sudden, fierce possessiveness−I wasn’t sure I could vouch for my response if New Guy took things further with that mistletoe, nudging up against Jacob, leering at him like that. What the hell were his intentions, anyway?