Page 93 of Forgotten Romance

Nothing about these past few months has been perfect. Nothing about tonight has been perfect either.

But this moment … it’s perfect for us.

And maybe that’s what I should have been focused on this entire time.

29

Davey

It’s Christmas Eve, and Mack is in and out all day. Sometimes he takes the kids, sometimes he leaves them, but there’s a general feeling of energy in the air, a happiness radiating from him that I haven’t seen in a really, really long time.

He’s excited.

And true to my word, I’m not asking questions.

Kiera, Van, and I make a gingerbread house, destroying the kitchen in the process. Then we try to wrap presents for Grandma and Pa, but Van is determined to help, and Kiera is getting frustrated that he keeps doing it wrong.

Mack arrives home in time to save me, swooping in to drop off lunch from Killer Brew, then scooping the kids up and leaving again.

The quiet of the house gets to me.

Reminds me of too many empty hotel rooms.

I fix myself a coffee, then fill the stillness by whipping up some eggnog. I’m not the biggest fan of the drink, but Mack loves it, and when I was younger, Gran would make sure she saved some virgin eggnog for the kids before plowing the rest with rum.

I love the throwbacks this holiday has. Love the traditions and all my memories with family. I wonder if, when, Kiera and Van are older, they’ll remember the lights and the snow and the smell of cinnamon and gingerbread and think of me.

You know, if this fucking place ever decides to snow on Christmas again.

Once that’s ready, I finish wrapping the few presents I haven’t done yet. Mack’s are peeking out from the back of the tree, and while it was tempting to buy him a Kindle, he has access to just about any book he likes at work.

Instead, I asked Beau to sign a copy of his series since Mack flew through the first one and is halfway through the second, and then I bought him a bookshelf and a reading light that clips onto the pages. Other than a few old books, Mack doesn’t have many, and if he gets back into reading like he used to, I might be able to buy him special ones for his collection every year.

It’s nothing extravagant, but Mack’s never been a guy to want fancy things. I wish I was presenting him with my resignation letter for Christmas, but hell, maybe that could be a birthday gift instead.

I turn on the little train under the tree and let the robotic choo choos fill the room.

Getting to sit with my feelings isn’t a fun idea because the stiller I become, the more I miss Gran. Miss being swamped in her hugs. Miss her Christmas Eve pudding. Miss the way she always smelled like lemon.

I didn’t see her as much as I’d have liked before she died. I was always away. Or busy. Or too emotionally drained by how bad things were at home.

If I wasn’t already certain about my decision, the reminder that things can change so suddenly would have gotten me there.

The door unlocks, and I glance up, expecting Kiera and Van to come tearing into the room, but their usual chaos is missing.

Mack appears in the doorway instead, happy expression faltering as he finds me sitting on the floor. “Hey … you okay?”

“Very.”

He takes a step forward. “So why are you …” He waves a hand over where I was watching the train.

“Just thinking.”

“Great, now stop that.”

“What?”

Mack tugs me to my feet and pulls me into a hug. I’m not ready for the fast kiss he leaves on my lips, but before I can react, he’s backing me toward the door.

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