Page 20 of Wishing Stone

“Plenty of time, sir.”

“Thank you. That will be all then,” I dismissed, motioning for her to continue with what she was doing, and began to head to my mother’s wing of the house.

My shoes echoed off the Italian marble floors as I passed the giant sixteen-foot-tall Christmas tree Krystina had erected in the foyer. I paused when my eye caught a glint from a small crystal heart placed directly on the center of the tree. I reached up to finger the cool glass and read the gold cursive font etched into the front.

Our First Christmas

2018

I remembered that Christmas as if it were only yesterday. We’d been six months into our marriage and had only lived in this house for a few weeks. Our holiday guests had just left, and we were sitting fireside in the living room, Krystina sipping on a glass ofChateau Ste. MichelleRiesling while I poured myself a nice tawny port. At some point during the night, the conversation had turned to children, and we’d decided we were ready to start a family. Krystina went off the pill a few days later and became pregnant within a month. It had been unexpected, as we both thought it would take a bit longer, but it was an exciting time, nonetheless.

But then she lost the baby a few weeks later and…

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying to block out the painful memories, but the effort was in vain. They always came rushing back, and this time was no different.

Krystina and I had made the conscious decision not to tell anyone that we were starting a family. We didn’t want the pressure of people asking too many questions or offering unsolicited advice. When she lost the baby, it was as if the world had stopped spinning, and only we knew it. For me, it was almost a blessing that we hadn’t told anyone, as it would mean admitting that I had failed.

It was hard to explain how I felt in the days and weeks following Krystina’s miscarriages—especially after the third one. While I didn’t experience the physical pain as she had, I had an unfamiliar emotional pain that I grappled with. I felt guilt over being excited or talking about things like baby names, thinking that my actions had only made Krystina’s grief worse. I also felt anger over experiencing this in the first place, and thought I was a failure because I’d been unable to protect my wife and our baby.

And I fucking hated myself for it.

It made me feel weak and uncomfortable in my own skin. The sinking feeling that came from knowing I’d let them down was an endless black pit.

My chest constricted and I shook my head, not wanting the stressful time to ruin my plans for the evening. Tonight, it was all about Krystina. Releasing the ornament to fall back against the branches, I stepped away from the tree and continued toward my mother’s rooms.

When I came upon her suite, I lingered in the doorway to the main sitting area. Krystina sat in a chair directly in front of my mother’s wheelchair. She was positioned away from me, allowing me only a glimpse of her side profile as she slowly flipped through the pages of a picture book that was on her lap.

A million emotions flooded through me as I watched her with my mother. Her expression was so expressive as she slowly turned each page, patiently waiting for my mother to react to one of the pictures. She looked so stunning sitting there, and it almost hurt to look at her. She was perfect, and at times, I wondered if she were really mine—as if this beautiful soul couldn’t possibly have attached herself to someone like me. She was my very own slice of heaven on earth.

Krystina’s cell phone began to ring, and she paused what she was doing with my mother to answer it.

“Hey, Ally,” she answered.

I groaned inwardly.

Oh, no. This will never do.

Since it was Allyson on the phone, I knew Krystina could easily be tied up with her best friend for the next hour or more. Their phone chats were never short, and I had no intention of allowing Allyson to impede on my plans for the evening.

“I’m sitting here with Helena,” Kristina continued. “We’re looking at picture books. Isn’t that right, Helena? I’m trying to find out if Alex has any lost Christmas traditions and was hoping the pictures might jog something in her memory.”

Krystina fell quiet, and I assumed Allyson was talking on the other end of the line. I didn’t want to allow them time to get into any sort of deep conversation, so I entered the room and snuck up behind Krystina. Squatting behind her, I snaked my arms around her waist. She jumped, and the picture book fell to the floor with a loud thud.

“Alex!” she screeched with a laugh.

“Hang up that phone. I have plans for us,” I told her.

“But Ally literally just called me and—” She stopped short when I took the phone from her hand.

“Allyson, hi,” I said into the phone.

“Right back at you, Alex. Are you having fun keeping my bestie locked up in that fancy cage?” she replied.

I smiled, knowing full well that Allyson agreed with my rules. She hadn’t forgotten the front row seat she’d had to Krystina’s first miscarriage, and she completely understood why my precautions were necessary. I was glad to have her in my corner about this, as it made convincing Krystina to follow my rules that much easier.

“Krystina and I always have fun. You know that. So, if you don’t mind, I need to cut this conversation short. I have plans with my wife tonight.”

“Oh, do tell! But wait—let me guess. Did Krys talk you into having anotherStar Warsmarathon night?”

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