Page 30 of All I Want For Christmas Is You

After a quick cleanup of their station, they headed out of the kitchen. As they crossed the restaurant, she breathed in the pine-scented air, and she smiled at a couple she’d served the night before.

His hand brushed hers, and her fingers flexed. She’d never been a big fan of hand-holding. It seemed awkward and forced. But she sure wanted to hold his.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked.

She steered them toward the lobby. “Of course.”

“After what he’s done, what’s your kids’ relationship to their dad now?”

“Oh, that’s a tough one. I mean, the divorce obviously hit them hard. They’d always seen us as the couple who would stay together forever. They never gave a thought to us breaking up.”

“Do they know the truth? What he did?”

She found an empty table tucked against the wall. “Hang on. Let me get us drinks.”

“No, I got this.” He didn’t give her a chance to object, just strode off.

She didn’t like to argue over money. If someone offered to pay, she just let them, figuring she’d get it next time around. Of course, with Beau, there wouldn’t be a next time.

And she really had to stop thinking like that and just enjoy the time they had together.

After he put in their order and paid, he came back and sat down across from her. “Did he tell them the truth?”

“Absolutely. He used the same line with them as he did with me. He said we were in a death spiral, and he found an exit ramp, and he hoped their mom would find one, too.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He glanced at the table nearest them, but he’d kept his voice low enough that no one heard over the buzz of conversation and the Christmas carols playing on lobby speakers. “What a piece of shit.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to keep my thoughts to myself.”

“I love knowing what you’re thinking.” It enabled her to lower her defenses. And honestly, since the day her ex had walked out, she hadn’t felt safe—not for one second.

She’d had moments of happiness, even glimpses of hope. But no matter where she was, what she was doing, or how she was feeling, temblors quaked beneath the surface, a constant reminder that her future was uncertain. That she had only herself to rely on.

Which was why his opinion of her art mattered so much. Her steadily growing sales should’ve been proof enough that it could support her. Unfortunately, once the bottom dropped out of your world, the pieces never quite fit back together again.

He dragged his chair closer. “Have they seen him since he left you?”

“No. My son wants nothing to do with him, and my daughter’s just confused. The wedding’s going to be at her fiancé’s family home, and while it’ll be very simple, there are some traditions she wanted to uphold.”

“Like having her dad walk her down the aisle?”

She nodded, imagining her ex in a tuxedo and her daughter in a designer gown. The way it would have been done before their world had changed so dramatically. Now, she couldn’t picture it at all. “She said she can’t do it. The way her dad bailed on me and left me with nothing sickens her.”

His features tightened. “He doesn’t deserve the honor.”

She smiled in appreciation, glad he understood. “So, it makes her sad to think her father will be just another guest at her wedding. I feel bad for her, but I guess we’re all having to adjust to the new normal.”

“Beau?” the barista called.

He got up, grabbed their drinks, and set the steaming mugs on the table.

“Thank you.” She wrapped her hands around hers, savoring the warmth.

He sat so close at this little table that their thighs touched. He could’ve shifted away, but he didn’t. It was intentional. Such a simple gesture—and yet it had her heart fluttering in her throat.

Because it means he feels it, too.

It wasn’t just a crush she’d blown up to fill her empty spaces. It was real.

“I think my kids are having a harder time processing what he did than I am. As weird as it sounds, I’m done with him. I seriously don’t have any lingering feelings.”

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