Page 62 of Under the Mistletoe
“Hey… just breathe…” I feel Donovan’s warm hands cup my upper arms and his solid chest at my back. I close my eyes, the tears threatening.
“I’m sorry, they’re…” I trail off.
“I know they’re your parents, but they’re idiots if they don’t realize how amazing their daughter really is.” He kisses my head and rubs up and down my arms and I do as he said and take a deep breath.
I turn in his hold as I hear the tone in the next room get louder, Uncle Bob now having a few choice words with his sister and her husband.
“My aunt and uncle have been more like my parents than my biological ones ever were,” I huff, shaking my head, feeling stupid. Donovan stands tall, not a thread out of place, his clothes designer, his flashy sports car probably out front. Yet he’s standing here with me. In this old kitchen, watching me like he will kill anyone else who comes near me.
“There’s more than just blood that connects family. Believe me, my parents weren’t exactly great either.” His calm voice helps to slow my breathing. “Come here.” He grabs my hand and walks slowly to the door.
“Where?” I don’t think I’m ready to face them. My appetite for Thanksgiving lunch is now ruined.
“Just here.” He stands in the doorway, out of sight still from the dining room behavior, which is escalating, yet I’m captured in Donovan's orbit as his hands move to my waist and he holds me tight, his gaze on mine unwavering.
“What are you doing?” I relax a little into his hold.
“I spotted this…” He looks up at the faded plastic mistletoe, and I huff a small laugh.
“It’s been there for years. I love seeing my aunt and uncle share a kiss under it almost every chance they get. It’s something that always has us all smiling.”
“Hmmm, well, I’m not one to miss an opportunity…” He slowly leans down, and I lift up on my toes as my lips hit his. His arms scoop me up, keeping me warm, protected, safe from the world around me. I’ve never been more grateful to this man who has shown up, stayed and bared witness to what I already know is the breakdown of my relationship with my biological parents.
As my nightmare Thanksgiving ends, my dream turns into reality, because here, under the plastic mistletoe that’s faded from years in the sun and gathering a little dust, my Prince Charming kisses me just how I always hoped he would.
I just need to tell him that I love him too.
25
Donovan
I told her I loved her, and I still can’t believe it. A slip of the tongue. I’m normally unflappable, in control of my thoughts and my feelings, but being welcomed into her family home for Thanksgiving had my feelings rushing forward. I do love her. It isn’t a lie. I’ve completely fallen. But I wanted to tell her in a more romantic setting.
She also didn’t say it back. But given the situation, her parents and the passing nature of the comment, I can’t blame her.
After I kissed her under the plastic mistletoe like I needed every breath she’d give me, her biological parents left. No hugs. They just got up from the table and said they were leaving and how disappointed they were with her. They have strong opinions; however, that isn’t really an issue to me, as everyone is entitled to their opinion. But it was the way they spoke about their daughter, the way they were so blasé about why they had her and what she means to them. Do they love her in their own way? Maybe. Did they show it? No.
It was unfathomable to me. Who could ever be disappointed in her? She’s brilliant and they’re blind.
Her uncle Bob, who’s fast becoming one of my favorite people, had a few choice words to say about that, and then once they left, the four of us drank the wine, ate cold turkey, and ended up playing a game of cards. By the end of the night, it was like they didn’t even turn up, even though I could still see sadness in Jessica’s eyes.
Now, a week later, I still see the usual light in her eyes a little dim. Hence why I’m walking down to her office like a man possessed.
I spot her assistant sitting off to the side, and she looks up at me warily.
“She in?”
Katie nods, and I stride past, giving her no time to announce my arrival before I knock on her office door and enter.
“Right, let’s go.” I push through and then pause. Shelley’s here, sitting with her, the two of them glancing up at me in surprise.
“Donovan?” Jessica looks confused, and Shelley sits upright.
We haven’t talked about how we broach the subject of us in the eyes of other people. Purely because we really don’t care. But I’m moving chess pieces. I have the media release ready, HR briefed, and I want to take her out and show the world who she is to me. I’m no fool; there are press articles out every day. But they haven’t yet gotten a clear photo of the two of us together. There are photos of me going to her family home for Thanksgiving; there are photos of her leaving my penthouse. But so far, there are none of us clearly together, as a couple, and that’s the money shot. That’s what everyone is waiting for. Because it will solidify what everyone already thinks they know but still aren’t sure about.
That’s why I want it to come out tonight. On our terms. Not due to a sly paparazzi getting a shot of us sneaking around. We don’t have any reason to sneak anymore, outside of just wanting our private lives to be private.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in…” I glance between them, catching Shelley’s shit-eating grin like it’s mid-bloom. She’s perched on the edge of Jessica’s desk, clearly enjoying herself. I know they’re close, so I shut the door behind me and cut straight to it.
