My small faux tree stood in the corner by the window, dressed in rose gold ornaments and twinkling warm lights. A single holiday candle flickered on the counter. It waspeppermint vanilla, the one I always lit this time of year. It smelled like Christmas and looked like it, too. But all I was worried about was taking this damn pregnancy test.
I retrieved the CVS bag from my Chanel purse and tossed it onto the couch. My hands were cold, clumsy, slow. Unwrapping the test felt strangely heavy, more than plastic should ever feel.
My voice cracked when I said, “Okay. Just… do it.” Once in the bathroom, I wasted no time peeing on it and then set it on the counter. Eyes wide. “Not me staring at it like it’s a ticking time bomb…”
Three minutes had never felt so long. When the timer on my phone went off, I couldn’t move at first. Only after forcing myself did I look—sure enough, there were two lines. I blinked slowly and hard, hoping the test would magically change, but it didn’t.
My knees almost buckled. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I whispered, pressing my hand over my mouth. My eyes filled instantly. “This can’t be real.” But it was.
I dropped onto the closed toilet seat and stared at the wall. A slow wave surged through me. Shock—fear—disbelief—and some unnamed thing I refused to acknowledge yet.
All I could see was Woods. His hands on my waist. His voice in my ear. His chain dangling in my face. Him releasing inside me damn near every time. The way we connected like we already knew each other. I laid my head in my hands and whispered, “I can’t tell him. Not yet. I don’t even know what this means forme.”
My phone buzzed with another text from him:
I stared at the screen, tears still sitting heavy in my eyes. My whole life had just shifted. One moment, I was just scared—now, a wave of uncertainty and responsibility tangled up inside me. I could feel it. And now I had to decide whether I was brave enough to answer him… or scared enough to run.
“Y o,i ft h e mlights ain’t sealed up by tonight, that whole back corner gotta get redone before the twenty-third. We’re not fuckin’ up nobody’s Christmas orders behind sloppy work.” I stood in the middle of my newest greenhouse, watching one of my managers scramble to fix what should’ve been handled three days ago. “Did I say that clearly?” I asked him, lifting my brow.
“Yes, Mr. Thevlin. I’ll stay late tonight to make sure it’s—”
“You gon’ stay ‘til it’s right. I don’t care if that’s midnight or tomorrow mornin’. We don’t move sloppy in my operation. You been here too long to play rookie.”
He nodded with his face tight, and jogged off toward the crew handling Christmas-themed hybrid batches. They was wrapped up in red-and-gold foil with snowflakes and mistletoeson them. All that cute shit the market ate up had these holiday bundles flying off the shelves since Black Friday. It was my third check on this spot in a week. I was tired, hungry, wired on espresso, and irritated because Autumn was acting weird as hell.
I finally looked down at my phone. She hadn’t responded to my text or earlier FaceTime and call from the warehouse in Santa Cruz. I knew she was off work. I was just trying to see her pussy cream real quick over the camera, like I had done at least three times a week since Thanksgiving. Now she was moving different, and I wasn’t feeling that.
We'd been locked in since day one. Even when she was in Arbor Hills and I was in Cali juggling three farms, four greenhouses, two warehouses, and too many clients, I still made time for her. That was rare. I hadn’t paid a woman this much attention since my ex. Usually, most women got ignored mid-convo. Autumn had me pulling over just to hear about her wild days, smiling at my phone like a simp. Now she was ghosting me?
I stepped outside the greenhouse to get some air. It was warm out, which meant my hoodie wasn’t necessary, but fuck it. The Christmas lights hanging off the roof of the building blinked behind me with a few big ass red bows taped to the office windows. I’d had the team decorate just to give it some holiday cheer, even though my mood was all fucked up.
I pulled out my phone again. Still nothing. I opened our thread to see my last text to Autumn still sitting at the bottom. I hit FaceTime again, and it rang, and rang, and rang. I clenchedmy jaw and stared at the screen, thumb hovering like I wanted to call again.
“What the fuck is up wit’ you?” I muttered, tapping the phone screen. I got in my truck, fingers drumming the wheel. Tomorrow, Santa Rosa deliveries. LA needed eyes on the new hydro build. One of my drivers had a reroute issue in Vegas.
I had way too much spinning for a woman’s silence to rattle me but there I was, pressed like a muthafucka. Autumn made shit feel raw. She was smart, fine as hell, and all the way real. The kind of woman who knew how to handle me. Every time she moaned my name? That shit lit up all my nerves. Missing her felt like missing a hit I couldn’t get nowhere else.
I leaned my head back and exhaled hard. “Nah,” I muttered. “This ain’t how we’re movin’.” I unlocked my phone again and pulled up my travel app. I wasn’t about to just wait around. Autumn wanted to be quiet? Cool.
I quickly checked my schedule. I had to hit Compton Saturday morning to make sure the new nutrient system was running smoothly. Then, I had a couple of meetings on Sunday. So, it was looking like I could head to Arbor Hills by Monday afternoon. That gave me a few days.
Next, I grabbed my iPad and pulled up the flight dashboard for my jet. I wasn’t taking any chances this time. Aside from meeting Autumn, that last airport situation had me fucked up. I tapped the screen a few times and then hit my pilot's line directly. “Yo, Ray. You get that fuel request?”
“Already on it,” he replied. “She’ll be fully gassed and wheels up whenever you say.”
“Good. I want her ready by Monday afternoon. Last-minute trip.”
“No problem.”
I hung up and leaned back in my chair. Autumn was only about an hour and a half away, a short flight, but this wasn’t just any visit. I was showing up needing more than just answers. With Christmas around the corner, I meant every word: I was coming for her—for us. I needed to know if we still was on the same page, for real.
Reaching into the middle console, I pulled out the blunt I didn’t finish earlier and sparked it up. While smoking, I scrolled, looking for a cabin. I wanted quiet, space, and privacy for us—somewhere to disappear for a few days. I found a luxury cabin deep in Arbor Ridge. Stone fireplace, heated floors, king bed, enclosed outdoor hot tub, and woods view. That shit was so perfect, I booked it.
I wasn’t bullshitting about spending Christmas with Autumn. I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and kept smoking, exhaling slowly. I wasn’t flying to Arbor Hills just for holiday shit. I was rolling out there on some claiming-my-woman shit.
Two days later…
T h es a l o nw a sl i t.
