Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“It’s okay, baby.” Hale touched my back when I could barely get the words past the lump in my throat. “You don’t have to do this.”
“No, it’s not okay.” I straightened my spine and lifted my chin. “Remington, I quit.”
Screw Santa
“Is that another one?” I asked, as I grunted and stretched, pulling the wrapping paper over the gift.
Hale read the card. “Looks like it.”
“Send it back.”
It had been four weeks, and Remington still hadn’t apologized or tried to make things right. He had, however, sent numerous gifts to Elara, posed as Christmas presents, but she hadn’t accepted a single one. If he wanted to play the doting grandfather card, he could bring his mean ass to our front door and act like a decent human being.
I whined when I realized I left the tape out of reach.
“I don’t know why you insist on wrapping everything yourself. We have people for—”
“I am not going to let people wrap my daughter’s Christmas presents, Hale. It’s the parents’ job. Now, hand me the fucking tape.”
My sciatica was killing me, despite my ass going numb an hour ago. I would have moved to a more comfortable position, but I couldn’t get up.
Snatching the tape from his hand, I snapped, “You could help.”
“I am helping. I did all the little things in her stocking.”
The paper ripped as I tightened it around the corner of the box. “Son of a!” I flopped back in defeat. “I give up!”
Hale chuckled and crawled across the carpet to me, shoving the gift away. “The magic of Christmas is coming down the stairs and finding everything done, baby. Let me take care of all of this for you.”
My body slid down the sofa until my back was on the floor. I needed a hug, yet I was being as approachable as a cactus. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Holidays are stressful.”
“But I don’t want them to be. Christmas is supposed to be fun.”
“And it will be.”
“Gah! You have an answer for everything.”
“And you talk too much.” He leaned over my swollen body and kissed me.
“Mmm, you taste like merlot.” I missed wine. Especially when wrapping presents. Maybe that was what was wrong with this picture.
“You should take another sip.” He lowered his mouth to mine, making slow, sensual dips with his tongue and teasing a laugh out of me.
“Flirt.” I arched my back and it pinched. “Ah!”
“You okay?”
“Yeah—” I coughed as acid rushed up my esophagus. “Wait.” I pushed his mouth away and rolled to my side with the grace of a beached whale. “I can’t do this on the floor.”
Hale sat up and pulled me with him. I was like one of those untippable punching bags that wobbled into position. “Couch?”
I scrunched my nose. “I think bed.”
He looked disappointed. Probably because every time we went to bed all I wanted to do was sleep. But he pulled me to my feet anyway.
“Ah! Leg cramp!”
Hale looked at me with concern. “What do you need?”
“I need to not be pregnant anymore!” Cradling my back, I wobbled to the stairs. “Can you clean that up so Elara doesn’t see it?”
“I…I thought…” He glanced back at the unwrapped presents and wrapping paper and sighed. “Sure.”
“Thanks, babe.”
I was conked out when Hale came to bed. I vaguely recalled him kissing my temple and trying to cop a feel, but he gave up when it felt like necrophilia.
The following day, he had to fly to Chicago. I finished my fall semester, and with no current employment, my schedule was wide open.
We kept Andrew on full-time because I was exhausted, and we didn’t want to lose him, but he mostly hung out in the guest house until I called him in to take over.
As Christmas approached, my emotions gained on me. Why couldn’t Remington just apologize? Miles and Marta both told me he was miserable since I’d quit. I missed my job. I missed him—the stubborn butt face. And I missed having an outside purpose. But Hale was right. I needed to stick to my boundaries, and Remington had crossed a line.
It wasn’t just about him trusting me. It was about him respecting my life and my personal time the same way I respected his. It was difficult standing up to him. But the hardest part of all of this seemed to be my pregnancy. Remington was like a father to me. Pregnancy was a major milestone and I wanted him to be a part of the process. Every time I thought of something I wanted to tell him or ask him, I was reminded that he wasn’t there and it was hard not to cry.
“Let’s check the advent calendar, Peanut.”
When I was little, my mom always bought me one of those paper calendars that hid a piece of chocolate behind a tiny paper door. The candy was never good, but that wasn’t the point. It was the tradition of opening it each morning and counting down the days until Christmas with my mom.