Page 130 of Christmas with the Elkin Billionaires

Someone like Jonas.

Rachel dropped onto the couch and watched Scott play, trying to sort through what to do with the feelings that raged through her, trampling her heart. Why wasn’t hehere?Why didn’t the phone ring?Because she’d told him not to call.But it seemed almost incomprehensible that he couldn’t feel her out here, missing him.

Scott was the living image of Jonas, a constant reminder of everything she’d walked away from. Scott abandoned the blocks and sprinted across to his other toys, going straight for his favorite—the stuffed elk. He buried his face in it, crushing it to the floor. “Dada,” he said, the word breaking Rachel’s heart into a million pieces.

“I know, buddy,” she said. “I miss him too.”

21

RACHEL

Another knock at the door that afternoon had Rachel nearly jumping out of her skin. She braced for it to be her mother again, driven back with more complaints about the different ways Rachel’s life choices makes her job as a senator in another state difficult. Or Annabeth. She’d mentioned calling to check in on her, and Rachel wouldn’t put it past her to show up instead, ice cream in hand.

Rachel opened the door to find a young man standing there in black slacks and a blue winter coat with a company logo on it. He glanced down at the tablet he held. “Ms. Alexander?”

“Yes, that’s me,” she said, eyeing the slim envelope he held in his other hand with curiosity.

“I have a special delivery for you. Please sign here.” He held the tablet out toward her.

She scrawled her name on the tablet, and the man handed her the envelope.

“Enjoy your day,” he said, turning to leave.

I’d enjoy it a lot more if people stopped knocking on my door.Rachel turned the envelope over and over in her hands. It had her name written on the outside, and that was it. No return address.

Dear Rachel,

I never knew how much I loved my family until I met you. I knew I loved them, of course, but I didn’t know—not consciously, anyway—how far I’d go to protect them until I saw you becoming a part of it. You and Scott. Meeting you again, after all this time, woke something up in the deepest parts of me.

I got your pictures. That’s why I’m writing this, even though it seems silly to send a handwritten letter when we both have phones and emails and all of that. In those pictures, I saw the man I want to be. A man who’s satisfied with his family. A man who’s committed to protecting them but not overwhelmed with the responsibility. A man who can enjoy his days, just because the people he loves are nearby.

After you drove away, my grandmother retired to her room for the day. She was distraught over the fact that I hadn’t told her about you or Scott. I’ve been trying so hard to protect everyone, taking so much responsibility for things that aren’t mine to control, and it’s because I’ve been terrified that I’ll wake up one morning having lost someone else.

You showed me what I’m missing out on and I’m tired of never experiencing the joys of life. Especially the joy I can share with you and Scott. I’ll try my best to let go of the need to control everything, but I will always want to protect you and Scott.

I love you.

I know it’s too soon to say it. And I don’t want you to feel pressured to say it in return or to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. I don’t expect you to call or text even, if that’s your wish. I just thought you needed to know the truth about how I feel. Whether you’re with me or not, I want you to always be safe and happy.

If you need anything—and I mean anything—just ask, and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.

All my love,

Jonas

Rachel held the letter to her heart, an ache spreading through her chest at the simple vulnerability of it. The stiffness of the envelope made her look inside, where she discovered two photographs. One of them was a copy of an older photo. A sob escaped her throat as she gazed down at the older photo. A picture of Jonas, at about Scott’s age, looking just like her son. And a man who looked just like Jonas, but older, held him in his arms, grinning at the camera. A dark-haired woman stood nearby, leaning in close—his parents.

The other was a clumsy selfie he’d snapped of the three of them. Scott was in Jonas’s arms, his head thrown back, laughing. Rachel was laughing, too, but trying to smile for the camera. Jonas wore a half-smile that spoke volumes about how happy he was. To a photographer, the photo was off-center, and Scott was laughing more than he was posing. But none of those things mattered, except for the fact that the image radiated happiness.

She traced their faces in the photo, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Beautiful,” she murmured to herself.

The rush of love overwhelmed her, slamming into her like an avalanche. Love. It described everything she’d been feeling but failed to admit. It was the answer she’d been searching for.

Jonas had made it clear he was standing back, honoring her wishes and letting her decide their future. Something her mother and her ex never let her do. She’d been so busy defending herself against the past—and, frankly, parts of the present—that she hadn’t noticed her future trying to find a way in.

* * *

Jonas

---