Page 49 of Christmas With My Ex

She wipes at her eyes, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know what to do. I was a mess after my mom died, and then I had this...this huge thing hanging over me. I didn’t think you’d want to be part of it. I didn’t think you were in a place to deal with it. But I should have tried harder to tell you.”

I nod, understanding more than I care to admit. She isn't wrong. I wasn’t in a place to be a father to another child. But it still stings, knowing we both lost that chance.

“Do you ever think about him?” I ask softly. “About what could’ve been?”

She nods, her eyes filling with tears again. “Every day. I think about him every day. And I wonder if he’s happy, if he’s loved. I hope... I hope I made the right choice.”

My heart aches for her, for everything she’s carried on her own. I reach out, taking her hand in mine, squeezing it gently. “You did what you thought was best,” I say quietly. “And maybe it was exactly what needed to be done. We weren't in any place to have a child, together, or as co-parents.”

She looks at me, surprised, and I feel the emotion swelling in my chest. “I wasn’t ready,” I admit, the words feeling heavy on my tongue. “I wasn’t in a place to have another child. I barely knew how to be a father to Nicky back then. It would’ve been nearly impossible.”

She nods, tears spilling over as she leans into me. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, my heart breaking for both of us. We lost so much, but in this moment, it feels like maybe we can find a way to move forward together.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “I can’t lose you again, Rives.”

She looks up at me, her face streaked with tears, but her eyes are filled with something softer now. Hope.

“You’re not going to lose me,” she says quietly.

Sitting here with Rives,I realize how much has shifted. It’s not that everything’s suddenly okay. It’s not. There’s still this giant hole inside me, knowing I have a child out there.

But I don’t blame her. I can’t. She did what she thought was best, and when I think back to where I was at the time, I can’t imagine any other way that would have been best for the baby.

I asked her a hundred questions. Hell, I still have more. Where did she go when she found out she was pregnant? What was the adoption process like?

She doesn't know anything about the family—only that they were a few years older than her, desperate for a child, and that the adoption was private. She had no way of knowing who they were, and honestly, I think she preferred it that way. She didn’t want the attachment. It was a clean break, or at least as clean as something like this could be.

To her credit, she answered all my questions. Every single thing I threw at her, she gave me straight, even if the answer sucked. There was never any hesitation on her part, no holding back. And even though part of me is still reeling, there’s a quiet relief in knowing. In understanding.

I’ve asked how she managed to keep it together after everything happened—losing her mom, finding out she was pregnant, and then making that impossible decision on her own.

She admitted she didn’t keep it together. She told me she crumbled for a while, and it wasn’t until much later that she started to rebuild. Hearing that just made me feel worse, knowing I wasn’t there to help her through it.

And yet, somehow, here we are. Sitting together, picking up pieces we didn’t even know were still shattered.

"You're amazing. You know that, right?"

"I don't feel very amazing right now," she answers. She seems almost defeated, but I still see that spark in her blue eyes. There's a softness there, a deep softness I hadn’t appreciated before all of this.

Maybe it’s because we’ve laid it all bare. There are no more secrets, no more half-truths. And somehow, that feels heavier than anything else. It's an awesome responsibility.

“I don’t know what’s next,” I say quietly, breaking the silence. My voice is rough, thick with emotion. “But I know I want to try to figure it out with you.”

Rives meets my gaze, her eyes brimming with understanding. “I feel the same way. Now that we know everything, we have a clean slate to find out.”

“Speaking of clean slate, I need some food. That bacon can only tide me over for so long. What do you say? The Last Dollar for burgers?”

“I never thought you’d ask!”

NINETEEN

Rives

And by the light of that same star Three wise men

came from country far; To seek for a king was their intent, And to follow the star wherever it went.

Thursday, December 28

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