Page 178 of Every Silent Lie
Dec narrows an eye on her.
“We watch Love Actually!” she sings, getting the remote control and flicking the TV on.
Dec glances at me, all kinds of awkward, apologising with his eyes. “We don’t have to.”
“No.” I lean forward and pluck a wedge of Brie off the board. “I want to.”
“You do?”
I pop it in my mouth and hum, my taste buds tingling happily. “Oh, that’s so good.” I grab another chunk before I’ve finished, my stomach suddenly ravenous for food.
“Take it easy,” Dec says, alarmed. Then he scowls again. “When was the last time you ate?”
My chewing stops, giving him all the answer he needs. He reaches for the board and hands me another wedge as April loads the movie and Blaine tops everyone up with fizz. “Here we go,” she sings, flopping onto the couch.
Dec reaches for the table loaded with food and drink and drags it closer, so the occupants of both couches can reach. Then he retrieves the pillows, plumps them, and lies down, pulling me into his front so he’s spooning me. The lights dim, I snuggle down, and Londoners from every walk of life appear on the screen, Hugh Grant commentating over the hustle and bustle of the city I once loved.
And, like life, hope I can love again.
December 25th
The birds sing outside the bedroom window, marking a new day, and I lie on my back staring at the ceiling, feeling the inevitable hollowness growing. And yet, like so many times since December 1st, it’s contending with something else.
Contentment.
It’s an odd feeling, and I’m still not sure how I should handle it. I can only hope that with time I learn how to grieve and move forward at the same time. How to be sad for my losses but hopeful and happy about my future.
I feel Dec’s hand slip into mine where it’s by my thigh, as if he’s reading my thoughts and wants me to know he’s aware. I squeeze in reply. “Happy Christmas,” I whisper, smiling as I let my head drop to the side on the pillow so I can see him.
“Happy Christmas, beautiful,” he murmurs. “Is there anything I can do?”
“You’re doing it.”
He nods, looking over me to the clock on the bedside. “I have no idea how he’s not awake yet.” He moves across the bed slowly, crawling on top of me. My legs spread, giving his body room between them, and the sheets moving sends the glorious scent of Dec wafting around me. He gazes down at me. “You’re the best Christmas present.” He kisses me, but I know Dec. He won’t push for more, his thoughtfulness not allowing it. And yet I need him as close as I can get him. So I reach down between our bodies and slip my hand into his boxers, and in response, his soft kiss hardens, along with his flesh in my grasp as I stroke him until he’s solid. “Are you sure?” he whispers, pushing my T-shirt up my body until it’s bunched up around my neck, his mouth moving down my chest to my boobs. I lose my grip of him and sink into the sheets, closing my eyes in utter bliss as he worships my nipples, trailing his tongue around each one in turn before heading south, disappearing under the sheets and inching my knickers aside.
“Oohhh,” I breathe, my back bowing as he licks me from back to front, creeping onto my stomach, working his way back up and reappearing from beneath the sheets. He finds my mouth again and kisses me into oblivion, feeling down my body to move my knickers aside again. He pulls himself past the waistband of his boxers and guides himself to my entrance, slipping into me on collective sighs.
“No more sleeps!”
“Fuck.” Dec rolls off me, and the shock exit makes me yelp and Dec hiss. “Motherfucker,” he breathes, his eyes wide with pain.
“No more sleeps!” The door crashes open, and I prop myself up on my elbows to find him, my discomfort forgotten when I do. He’s frozen stock-still in the doorway, a dishevelled mess of a gorgeous little boy. And he gasps. “Father Christmas brought me Camryn!” He comes at me like a rocket, diving on the bed and taking me out, flinging his little arms around my shoulders, smothering me with his fierce hug.
I’m going to cry.
“Thank you!” he yells in my ear, intentionally loud enough so Father Christmas can hear him all the way from the North bloody Pole. My eardrums ring, but I can still hear Dec chuckling beside me. Albi releases me, allowing me to breathe. But I can’t breathe. Like his father, he takes my breath away too. “Merry Christmas, Camryn,” he chirps, forcing me to blink back the tears.
“Merry Christmas, Albi,” I reply, my words rough and broken as I reach for his hair, pushing my fingers through the wild mess.
He dives onto Dec. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”
“Merry Christmas, little fella.”
“Aunty April! Uncle Blaine!” He shoots off the bed and runs full pelt back out. “Father Christmas has been, and he’s brought Camryn!”
I grab a pillow and pull it over my face, letting my tears soak into the material. Dec soon yanks it off, crowding me again, his face close. “I love you,” he says, as if he needs to remind me.
“I love you too,” I whisper. “But I love him more.”
