Page 2 of HoHoHo for You

She dropped her voice to a low, pompous posturing that I guessed was supposed to be Gerald.

“—Your brain has attached the negative experiences you endured with the external stimulus that were present during that season of your life. When your mind hears the music, or sees the decorations, it unconsciously associates those with core memories of pain and loss. To your psyche, Santa Claus might as well have murdered your mother. You have to face it, Bridget, because it won’t change unless you do…”

She groaned and rolled back over, shaking her head as she stared at the ceiling. “Whatever,” she muttered. “All I know is, I can’t escape it. And it’s fucking exhausting.”

I took a deep breath and pushed up onto my elbow to lean over her, looking down, and put my hand on her hands where they were clasped, white-knuckled, on her stomach.

“There’s one difference this year,” I said quietly. She looked at me, and I smiled. “I’m going to be here this time.”

She nodded and smiled, but it was tight. And the unspoken words,if you’re not in prison,hung in the air.

“I’ll help, Bridge, I promise.”

“I hope so.”

I tipped my head and gave her the half-grin she liked so much. “I’ll have the best present for you to unwrap.”

She snorted and I felt some of the tension in her body unravel. “A ribbon around your cock is not a Christmas present.”

I pretended to be wounded. “What? Why? What more could a wife want?”

“To forget that it’s Christmas at all,” she shot back without hesitation.

I sighed. “Maybe we can go somewhere they don’t celebrate?”

She gave me a look. “In the middle of a Court case in which we aren’t supposed to be within a hundred feet of each other? Sure. Sounds like a plan.”

“Bridget—”

“I’m not mad, Sam. I’m just being realistic.”

Neither of us spoke for a while, but I could see her sinking away, so I squeezed her hands again and made her focus on me.

“We’ll get through this. It’s going to suck this year—but I’m here, Bridget. I’m here for you. And when we beat this, we’ll figure out our own traditions. The… the Anti-Christmas. And we’ll do it every year.”

Her brow furrowed. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

And I meant it…

“Do you remember what I promised you last time?” I murmured quietly when she seemed to breathe a little easier.

She nodded, but didn’t speak. I held her tighter.

“I have some ideas, babe. Just… don’t give up, okay? We’ll do this together.”

She nodded, but she’d gone quiet and still. A quiet, still Bridget was a dangerous one. The deeper she sank into her thoughts, the more likely she was to rush into some unhinged plan to relieve herself of the stress. I had to keep her here and focused on me until we could solve this together.

Taking a deep breath and praying I’d see it if she reached her limit before I could get the details in place, I tipped up her chin again—and my heart broke a little bit at the tears in her eyes.

I wiped them off her cheek with my thumb and held her shining gaze.

“You stay here, inside. If anyone needs to go out it’ll be me, okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered, which only reminded me that she wasnota quiet person.

“I already have a plan, but I need to finish off some details,” I said pointedly. “So, I need you to rest and breathe andstay here with me.”

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