Page 233 of Accidentally Under Your Tree

"Shit," a man hissed. I didn't have to see him to know, without a doubt, it was Lawrence.

My jaw tightened grinding my teeth. I took the last few steps through the open doors. The aisle lights in the floor were the only illumination in the spacious room. The darkness ate it up, leaving just the outlines of Lizzy and her family and Lawrence visible. The outline of a jaw, a shoulder, the angry wrinkles on Jim's forehead. Rose and Lawrence tucked into a darkened corner, standing far too closely as if they'd just been in each other's arms.

I knew this lie would blow up in our faces, but I thought it would be my fault.

It might have been naïve, but instead of anger or irritation, I felt sympathy for my friend who could have everything she wanted if she'd just let down her guard for a moment.

"I can explain," Rose tried.

"Explanation is unnecessary." Kelly shot a glance at me.

"Mom. Dad." Rose held her hands out, a silent plea in her palms.

Lawrence considered me out of the corner of his eye, as if guilt kept him from looking at me straight on. His weight was on the leg furthest from me, ready for an attack.

Jim placed a hand on my shoulder. "Don't do it. Not here."

I loosened the clench of my jaw, realizing how tightly bound my muscles were. It took a few seconds of focus to relax my stance. My concern must have looked like aggression with my hands fisted at my sides. No wonder Lawrence was watching me like I was a danger to him.

"It's time to go." Jim urged me to turn away, but my feet were still planted.

Unshed tears glistened in Rose's eyes. Lawrence's head hung in shame.

Just inside the door, Lizzy stood holding her elbow with one hand and the other pressed to her mouth. I wanted nothing more than to get her and her sister home. To take this mess we'd made somewhere private.

Scraping my palm over my lips, I nodded to Jim.

"Good for you, son," he spoke to my back.

It was my turn to hang my head.

Will

Three nights before Christmas

The cold interior of the garage was almost a relief to the stifling tension of the van ride home. The only words spoken for the fifteen-minute drive were from Rose as soon as the last door had shut behind her dad. Three whispered syllables swallowed whole as soon as they were uttered, "I'm sorry."

She'd folded in on herself, startling when Lizzy reached across the space between their seats to give her wrist a reassuring squeeze.

Affection too big to be anything but love swelled in my chest. She was steadfast and tender. I was desperate to do right by her. After my short-lived marriage, I knew what it was to be in a toxic situation. I refused to put Lizzy through that, throughthis, any longer.

Jim hung his keys on the hook at the kitchen door, holding it open for his wife and daughters, and then me.

After depositing our boots on the mat by the door, the five of us paused in the kitchen. Lizzy at her sister's side, me on the other. Their parents had a silent conversation the way two people who knew and understood each other could.

Their family tension was painfully uncomfortable, squeezing at my insides. I could identify the illness, but I didn't have the immunities for it. My peacekeeping efforts wouldn't work here, it wasn't mine to keep.

With clear apprehension, Rose cast her eyes my way. I nodded back, knowing the silent question she asked.

Jim heaved a sigh, but Rose cut him off, her voice reed thin. "I have something to say. It'll make things clearer, but it won't make you think any better of me."

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, squeezing her to my side. "Do you want me to say it?"

She shook her head. Wiping her nose on the sleeve of her blazer, she went on, "Bill and I date other people."

Kelly rolled her eyes—the gesture was exactly like her daughters.

"What is this hippy-dippy horseshit?" Jim growled. He pointed a finger at me. "So, you're okay with this, son?"

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