Page 33 of Forgotten Romance

Those big blue eyes meet mine, and the urge to touch him is almost overpowering. He still loves me. I know that, and I hope he knows that I still love him too. But sometimes love isn’t enough.

I’m not selfish enough to say the words out loud, so I hope that showing him, making him a priority when I’m actually here to do it, is enough.

I gave him the divorce he wanted, but I never, ever stopped loving him.

Not for a minute.

“You wanted the perfect weekend. You put in a lot of effort to make it happen, and I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy camping. I wanted to find something to put that smile back on your face again.”

The smile I love comes, and he hauls me into a hug. He grips me tight, face turned into my neck, and I press mine into his shoulder as I hold him back.

I fold as much emotion into the hug as I can, and it’s torture. Torture to be this close but further from him than ever.

He lets go too soon, and I force myself to step back.

Mack isn’t mine.

He’s not mine.

My heart clenches as he turns to where the kids are setting up.

“Do I get to help?”

Kiera holds up an ornament she made at school. “This one.”

He laughs and goes to join them, and I have to swallow around the lump building in my throat. These three are the reason I do everything. The reason I’ve built my life to be what it is.

So why do I suddenly feel like I’m looking in on a private family moment? One that I’m not part of?

“Don’t think you’re getting out of helping,” Mack says, grinning at me over his shoulder.

I shake off the sudden melancholy and join them.

10

Mack

It smells like a bakery in here. A yummy, fatty bakery full of food I want to put in my mouth. I can’t stop looking around at our living room. I have no idea how Davey managed all of this in one afternoon, but Griff’s sudden need for help with his back deck makes sense. Considering I’m not the most handy guy, I’d been so confused why he needed my help. And outside. It was fucking cold.

It was all worth it though. My body has thawed from the inside out, and if it took a disastrous camping trip to make this happen, I’ll gladly live through that nightmare again. Our tree looks like the decorations have thrown up on it, and it’s definitely more bottom heavy than anything, but I’ve never seen a better sight. Even when Van and Kiera get into a fight over a Santa ornament, Davey just scoops Kiera up to put the star on top, and the whole meltdown is avoided.

When they’re almost finished, I lean back against the couch, legs stretched out in front of me and the tray of food by my side.

The feeling that settles over me isn’t one I get a whole lot, so it takes me a moment to place it. Not confusion, not like I’ve taken a wrong turn. This is … I think I’m content. At peace.

Acknowledging that is enough to put a damper on it though. And I don’t want that. I don’t want the reminder this all has to end. I want to enjoy it and be grateful for these times, these moments, and hope we can stretch them out for a little bit longer.

Maybe when the kids are older, maybe I’ll have to face the changes then, but for now, I’m going to sink into the contentment of having my family here with me.

Damn, my heart feels full.

It’s a feeling I could fly on.

Once the tree is done, Davey makes us monster hot chocolates with whipped cream and marshmallows, then puts a Christmas movie on. I’ve already eaten too much sugar, but like hell am I going to say no to this. Kiera and Van kneel at the table while they drink as Davey settles on the couch and catches my eyes.

He pats the spot beside him.

I’m all jittery inside as I slide into the space. It’s where I would have eventually sat anyway—once the kids were done and settled between us—but the fact he invited me here, just us, my gut tickles over it.

---