Page 71 of Saved By Love at Christmas
THREE YEARS LATER…
Christmas was a chaotic affair this year. For the first time ever, our Christmas traditions had changed. Now I was married to Ben, we decided to celebrate it at our home. We had Grandad staying with his two cats. Ben had rescued two abandoned kitties and Grandad had fallen in love with them. Even Fred loved them and allowed them to clamber all over him. Marie was there too with her fiancé, Alan. Our house was larger and so it made perfect sense to host it. Grandad still did the majority of the cooking because it was his passion.
It was Christmas Eve, and while the others sorted out the buffet and deadly punch in the kitchen, I was still putting the finishing touches to the tree. I’d decided, last minute, that it required a few more decorations. I sneaked the small stepladder from the cupboard under the stairs and put it by the tree.
I reflected on the three years since Ben and I had become a proper couple. Jamie had been given a custodial sentence and would be handed over to the Spanish authorities after he’d served his time in the UK. Two other women had come forward in Spain to give evidence against him. It appeared he was a serial abuser.
Ben and I moved in together about six months after his proposal, but only when he’d got some feline companions for Grandad. We didn’t want him to be lonely, even though we saw him most days. We got married about a year after that with a very small gathering of friends and family. It was an amazing day.
My business was growing, and I now had two part-time staff under me to help with the soft furnishings. Ben made senior partner about ten months ago when George finally agreed to retire. I offered to help with any interior design so he could spend some time on his much-loved boat on the Deben. I smiled at the last crystal bauble I held in my hand, marvelling at how it glistened in the firelight. I stood on the small stepladder and put it on a branch.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”
I rolled my eyes at Ben as he helped me down from the ladder. His hand went to my swollen belly. Baby Driscoll was due in early April.
“I’m pregnant, not helpless,” I protested.
The baby moved against Ben’s hand and, as always, he welled up with emotion. He knelt and placed a kiss on my belly.
“Mummy’s certainly giving me the run-around; I can’t wait until you’re here to keep an eye on her with me.”
I ruffled his hair with affection. He stood and placed a kiss on my lips.
“Did I ever tell you how much I love you, Mrs Driscoll?”
“Every day, Mr Driscoll. Don’t ever stop. I love you too.”
And I kissed him long and deep to show him just how much being in love with my best friend meant.
