Page 141 of Season of Gifts

Hell, she’d been deflecting all month long, imagining that Henry’s countdown calendar was only about Jay and his needs.As if she didn’t have pieces that needed filling in on her personal jigsaw.

“Often it is far easier to focus one’s efforts on helping someone else than it is to face our own pains.”

Like, say, micromanaging a care plan for one’s mom instead of asking for help comforting a scared little boy one used to be.“You don’t say?”

“I do say.”He cradled her close, wrapping her up in both arms and swaying slowly.“As you may have noticed, I have extensive recent experience in this area as well.”

“I had noticed that.”And now she was doing it again, flipping the conversation away from focusing on herself.“Sorry.I should—” She clicked her tongue in her teeth.“I mean, Iwantto stop doing that.I want to be uncomplicatedly happy today, not comparing now with then.”

“You may find difficulty achieving that goal if you refuse to allow yourself space to grieve, my sweet.”

Grieve was a big word for her piddly complaints.Shouldn’t she be past those—there went thatshouldagain, shoving its butt where it didn’t belong.“I’m listening.”

“These unhealed hurts arise when they will, and pushing past them simply grants them more power on their next return.”He stroked the back of her neck above the edge of the robe, his touch a signal for tight muscles to unclench.“Shall we acknowledge that those years of deprivation were not so unimportant as you may have pretended?You were, in fact, dealt a not insignificant loss.The sadness you refused to feel then—shrouding it with indifferent defiance, perhaps—spills out now because you are confronted with what could have been.”

She could joke about how her family would never-ever have been as orderly and disciplined on Christmas morning as his was, and that would be true.But it would still miss the point.

She did want the years back.The ache in her chest hadn’t been caused by anything wrong today.The ache came from the constant false front for neighbors and the kids at school and even Mom when she came home with a furrowed brow and droopy shoulders and swollen feet she propped on a kitchen chair.“So how do I let go of that?”

“Tell me quickly, without thinking about it, what you are feeling this morning.”

“I wish things had been different.”The words kicked her in the chest and pushed a lump into her throat.Her mind chattered at itself, a chorus of angry opposition insisting her childhood had built character and made her resilient and taught her to be independent and strong.Fuck, barely more than a year ago her biggest fear had been that wanting Henry’s dominance made her weak.

But this network of fail-safes they’d built made her strong.Loving people and letting them in made her strong.Not all this BS lying to herself about what she didn’t need in her life.

“I’m angry.I’m angry at the guy who drove the forklift, and at the company for fighting the claim, and at my dad for not finding a better way to cope, and at my mom for not making him, and at Ollie for needing me, and at myself for letting those feelings control me for so long.For shutting down all the other emotions.For not really living half my life.For wasting all that time.”The fierce whispers clawed out of her, a long line of hurts unspoken.But they didn’t come tainted with the horrifying bitterness of wishing Dad had died.That had been just one more lie to herself, another way of sayingsee, I don’t care.

Henry assessed her in his steady green gaze.The upturned corners of his mouth held soft encouragement.“And how do you feel now?”

She barked a laugh at the answer the brain trust shoved forward.“Um.You know how when you get food poisoning—”

Henry slowly raised one eyebrow.

“—and everything inside feels absolutely awful, but you don’t want to throw up, because ugh, gross?”

He might have been hiding a laugh of his own.“Go on.”

“But then you do throw up, and afterward you feel a million times better?”

“A million times, hmm?”As he finger-combed her hair, he followed the curve of her ear.Her skin tingled where he touched her, familiar but new, soothing but enticing.

“A million times.”Shuffling closer, she tucked her hands into the pockets of his robe and tugged him toward her.“A million billion.”

“Excellent.”

He caught her mouth in a kiss, waves of gentle pressure as if he could draw the last drops of poison from her.Which he and Jay kind of had by filling her up with love instead.That suggested love was dense enough to displace hurt and hate.Maybe a liquid metal that started at the bottom and seeped into—

“You”—Henry kissed her again, hard and quick—“have the most delightful shiver when you’re entertaining a new thought.”

The door nudged open, and Jay slipped through the gap.“Not to interrupt, but I got voted to check on the tea and sympathy.Everything okay?”

“I got overwhelmed.”A twinge of embarrassment flared, and she pushed through it.Jay would be happier knowing how she felt than he would wondering what she was shielding him from.“Turns out having a merry Christmas after years of lousy ones is emotional and requires kisses to fix.”

With a deep exhale and a crooked smile, Jay closed the distance.“I’m a great handyman, if you need more help fixing that.”

“I do.”She spun slowly, resting her back against Henry as he clasped his forearms across her waist.“A few more kisses and I’ll be ready to go out and make those happy memories.”

Jay followed her lead, nuzzling her cheeks and bumping noses until she sealed their mouths together.The heat surpassed hot chocolate, with extra healing properties she filed underbeing in love.

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