Page 3 of Snowed In With The Second Chance Daddy

My insides lurch. “In town? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rowan swoops in. Of course, she does. The two of them are a team.

I miss being part of a team.

“She’s going to be at Christmas. With…us.”

Nowmyappetites been usurped.

I push my plate away and wipe my hands on the paper napkin. Lifting my hand, I get the attention of our server, Brenda, who always takes care of us. I write in the air and mouth, “Check.”

Rowan reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling it down. “Trevor, don’t be like that.”

I retract my hand and grab my wallet from the pocket of my slacks. “I’m not being like anything, I just…” I busy my attention on the bills in my wallet, except I’m having trouble identifying which are ones and which are twenties.

Aw, fuck it. Brenda deserves a Christmas present. She can have all the cash.

I toss the money onto the table and grab my coat, intent on shrugging it on. “I don’t like when you guys spring things like this on me.”

Oliver shakes his head. “Trev, we just found out her plansyesterday. We promise, if we had known any earlier, you would have known too.”

Add it to the list of things that piss me off about Iris Galletto. “Of course, she just decided.”

“She wants to spend time with Rose. You can’t blame her for that, right?” Rowan’s eyes glisten with hope I’ll settle down.

It’s fucking annoying that Ican’tblame Iris for wanting to spend time with Rose. We’re her godparents after all, and it’s not Rose’s fault that her godparents couldn’t keep it together.

I have a flurry of memories all at once, Iris and I visiting Rose in the hospital the day she was born, the first time we babysat her together when she was three months old so Oliver and Rowan could have a date night, her first Christmas, first birthday, so many firsts.

We were supposed to watch her grow up together. We were supposed to have a baby of our own so Rowan and Oliver could be godparents too, and our children could be best friends and–

God,life changes so fast. One day, all you’re focused on is making money and partying and the next, you’re planning a life with someone.

I’m still in mourning for Iris. Something I don’t know how to say. Because I’m not just mourning the relationship we had, I’m mourning what we were supposed to have. The future. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for both of us to be at Christmas. I’ll bow out, and we can celebrate a different time or–”

Oliver frowns. “Don’t be like that, man. I know this hurts, but you’re both family now. Sometimes, you have to suck it up for family.”

I bite on the inside of my cheek and say nothing.

I’ve been family a lot longer than Iris. Shouldn’t they choose me?

“You have to admit it will be nice to see her. At least a little bit, right?” Rowan asks, the good cop to Oliver’s bad.

My jaw tightens as I lift my head to look Rowan dead in the eye.

“The last time I saw Rowan, she told me she took a job in Seattle without discussing with me what that would do to our relationship. She just expected me to go along with it and–” Desperate sorrow waves through me, and I have to stop talking at least for a moment or else I might burst into tears.

I don’t cry over Iris as a rule. Not anymore.

Except in therapy.

However, holding it in is painful. Physically painful.

“She was the one who chose to leave. So, forgive me if I’m not super stoked to see the woman I was planning to marry at Christmas this year.”

I push myself out of the booth and shrug my coat on as I leave. I barely feel the cold, my temper so hot and raging it may as well be my own personal heater.

I don’t make it far before Oliver’s voice reaches me. “Trevor! Wait up!”

---