Page 35 of His Christmas Gift

“Because you’re one of the most caring people that I know. You fought me tooth and nail over your aunt’s gym. Despite all I did to you in the past, you’ve dealt with me this entire trip and have been kinder than I deserve,” Dean replied. “Plus, you’re patient and smart as a whip.”

His words meant a lot to me. I hadn’t thought much about being a mother because I didn’t have a partner, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it now. I wanted to be kind, caring, and understanding. I wanted to allow my children to be who they wanted to be. I just hoped that I didn’t unknowingly act like my parents.

“Thank you,” I told him sincerely. He didn’t have to say all of those things. He didn’t have to do a lot, but he did. He gave me more than what I asked for, and he never complained. Not once.

“Are you going to keep working at the gym?” Dean asked me.

I breathed in through my nose and nodded.

“I think so. I want to do something a little bigger than some yoga classes and paperwork, but I’m fine with it for now,” I told him. I liked being in the realm of fitness. It was a good release for me. When my parents made me upset, I usually left the house and went on a long run to work through my feelings. It never failed.

“We don’t have to split up immediately when we get back,” Dean replied.

“That would look too suspicious,” I laughed. If news got back to my parents that we broke up right after we got back to New York City, they would know that something weird was up. I didn’t want to hear it from them, so we had to fake a relationship for at least a few more months. That didn’t sound as bad as it did before Dean and I got to St. Francisville, though. Things turned out differently than I expected them to.

Dean’s smile faded slightly, but he nodded.

“Yeah, it would. We can talk about it more when we get back,” he told me.

I peered at him with a curious look, wondering if he meant something different. He almost looked… disappointed by my response. Before I could say anything, there was a knock on the door.

“Must be room service,” Dean said before hopping out of bed.

The conversation was over. I sighed softly and sat up more, brushing my fingers through my hair. I wished that I had the courage to actually have a talk about what was going on between us. He was either tiptoeing around the subject too, or he just didn’t care about what was going on as much as I did. I couldn’t tell, and I didn’t want to bring it up and look like a fool.

For now, I wouldn’t say anything. I had to get through the holiday first, and nothing was a guarantee.

Who knew if we would make it out in one piece?

---