Page 49 of Snowed In With The Second Chance Daddy

I glance at the gathering family.

Trevor is standing next to Oliver, looking down at his shoes. He’s managed to clean himself up just fine.

I can tell that he’s been throughsomething,though, not just because I was the person he was fucking.

It’s his hair, all tousled out of place and the way his shirt peeks out from under his jacket in the back. He must have missed tucking that bit in.

Trevor notices me looking and attempts to smile.

I look away. “I think I should just sit this one out.”

Red’s forehead squeezes together with lots of worried lines. “Violet–”

“Like, I appreciate you trying to include me, but it’s okay. I’m a big girl.”

She grabs my biceps and smiles at me with fondness. “Honey, you are a part of this family. It doesn’t matter that you and Trevor haven’t worked things out yet.”

“Yet?” I echo with a disbelieving laugh. “Red, you’re way too optimistic.”

Her hands slide to mine. “Of course, I’m optimistic. I’ve tried to give you space to recover, but you two are idiots if you think that you can just walk away from–”

“Red. Drop it.” I can’t do this, can’t keep running in circles over this relationship that no longer exists. “Trevor made it clear. I made it clear. We’re done.”

My friend hesitates before saying, “That’s why you’re sneaking off with him to…well, what are you doing? Arguing?”

I gape at her. I guess we hadn’t been subtle.

“That’s why you had lipstick all over your chin when I found you?” Red’s sympathetic tone turning accusatory.

I steel myself. “It’s just sex.”

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England. Now come on. We have a picture to take.”

I clearly have no more room to argue with her now that she’s read me for filth, so I let her guide me by the hand toward the sea of Hawthorn couples.

I’m tucked in right next to her, Oliver to her left and Trevor on Oliver’s left. So, we’re close but clearly notcoupledthe way everyone else is.

The photographer gets the camera ready, pointing it at us. “Okay, squeeze in.”

Ash shoulders me on my other side. “Sorry, Iris.”

“It’s fine.”

He does a double take in my direction. “You’ve got a little…” He gestures under my eye. “Mascara.”

Fuck! I rub at my eye with viciousness. “Ha! Long night, I guess. Thanks. That would have been…embarrassing.”

The photographer holds up a hand. “All right, perfect!”

Red puts her arm around me and squeezes me close to her and Oliver.

I canfeelTrevor all the way through them, the energy of whatever happened in the conference room vibrating the air around me.

Last year, I was standing next to him during the photo, hand around his bicep, his head tipped down to lean on mine. When we got the picture back, I realized my eyes had been closed because I was so in the moment with him, so in love that I let the softness of loving him overcome me.

This time, I stare wide-eyed at the camera, praying I’ve touched up my makeup enough.

Yes. That was the last time. It doesn’t matter if he still loves me, doesn’t matter that I still love him.

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