“Remember, we still need to grab lights at the auto parts store and run into the grocery store for hot cocoa. I also plan on making you a vegetarian meal that will have you thinking you ate cardboard at the Grays’s place.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” She gives me a double thumbs-up sign, followed by making a half-heart on her face, next to her ear-to-ear grin.
Smiling, I shake my head. This girl is something else.
“You also said we each get to pick out an ornament at the little shop next to the skating rink.”
I dramatically sigh and stick my arms in the air. “Fucking fine. Next time, tell me to shut my trap when I get excited.”
It’s how I woke up. With a stiffy from hell, my bladder full as fuck from the water I guzzled while in the pool, followed by guzzling down another bottle on my way to Sorrow’s room last night after having showered and changed into a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants. I was also excited to start a new day with Sorrow. What would we do after her shift at Delridge Auto Parts ended? Sorrow had the afternoon shift.
Then I made the mistake of looking out her window. The trees outside mocked me. They were naked as fuck. No lights. No garland or whatever else people put on outdoor trees. My parents took care of that stuff while I was oblivious to their efforts to spend time with me.
Instead, I spent it with my boys or chasing skirts.
Now, things are different. My boys have their girls and their families. I have Sorrow. If I have the means to, which I do, I’ll make sure she has a great Christmas.
“So, you slept okay? No nightmares?” It’s the third time I’ve asked her after picking her up when her shift was done. But I want to hear again how my presence was a force for good.
“Yes, thank you. I slept like a baby. No nightmares. And to wake up snuggled up to you and wrapped up in your arms . . .Priceless, Trace. Absolutely priceless.”
She avoids looking at me, her attention on where I’ve parked the truck.
“Let’s get this one.” She points at the tree I’m standing in front of, still preoccupied with the parking lot. It’s not busy at the tree farm. Christmas is in four days, and I would think most people already have a tree up. Or they’d rather have a fake one. Dad likes the real deal. He said the tree made the house smell nice.
“Are you sure?” I ask, needing to confirm a suspicion.
“Yes.” She sniffles.
I knew it. Sorrow is crying.
“Baby.” I walk over to her. She turns her back to me. “Sorrow.”
She sticks out her arm behind her. “Don’t come any closer. I’m an ugly crier.”
I lower my voice to a croon. “I bet you’re absolutely stunning when you cry.” She’ll never be an ugly anything. Sorrow is pure, and purity is never ugly.
She turns to me. “You think so?” Her small, gloved fingers fan over her cheeks.
I palm her face in my gloved hands and look from her shimmering eyes to her reddened nose to her trembling lips. Bringing her to me and dipping my head, I press my lips to her tears before pressing my mouth to hers.
A sigh slips from her parted mouth. Her eyes flutter closed. I swipe away more tears, my chest aching for her. “You’re stunning, beautiful,” I reassure her. “Absolutely gorgeous.” I wrap my arms tight around her, like I could give her my strength. “Cry. Let everything out. I’m here for you.” I rub her back.
But what happens when our three weeks are up?
I rest my chin on the top of her head. She curls her small arms around me.
I’ll go back to locking down my emotions.
Another guy, maybe that motherfucker Rush, will take my place and hold Sorrow in his arms as her tears fall.
I blow out a breath.
How the fuck do I see her every day in the house, in the hallways, and not wonder whether I should’ve gone with my one option, the best thing that’s happened to me—Sorrow Sophia.
17
Sorrow
