charlie
“Do you think she’ll like it?” I asked, adjusting the pink lamp in the corner for what felt like the hundredth time. My nerves weren’t settling as I walked to the mirror. “Do you think she’ll like me?”
I glanced down at my outfit—a simple green satin skirt paired with a burgundy sweater. Festive, but understated.
“Honey, it’s perfect. Just like you.”
I exhaled, still feeling the tight knot of tension in my chest. It wasn’t just the room I’d somehow managed to throw together in the past twenty-four hours. It was the fact that it was Christmas, and we were hosting. Nova had told Austin that Ollie surprised them so it would be Luna, Scarlette, Nova, and Ollie—an entire group of people. I wanted it to be perfect. For Austin. For Scarlette. Maybe even for me, selfishly.
“Okay,” I said, stepping back as he wrapped his arms around my waist. “But do you think she’ll like the presents?”
Before he could answer, the doorbell rang, and my heart leaped into my throat. I bolted down the stairs and into the kitchen, running through a mental checklist as I surveyed the counters.
The caprese skewers were unwrapped, the dip was open and surrounded by chips in the holiday bowl I’d found yesterday—complete with a red bow. The pot roast was still in the oven, with the sides warming. I’d chosen it after googling Sunday roasts in the UK, hoping it would be safe and familiar for Nova and Scarlette.
I think I had everything.
I turned, startled to find Austin standing in the kitchen doorway, watching me with his arms crossed, an easy confidence in his stance.
“I’m so nervous,” I whispered, clutching the edge of the counter.
He nodded, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “I know, Char. But it’s going to be perfect.”
As Austin reached for the door, my hand in his, my nerves spilled over. My gaze drifted down, catching the faint glint of my wedding ring. I never took it off—not even when I left. At first, it was just a symbol of convenience, a placeholder for what wasn’t supposed to be real.
But somehow, somewhere along the way, it became more. It was a promise, one I didn’t fully understand when I made it but couldn’t imagine breaking now. My fingers brushed over the smooth band, the weight of it familiar and grounding. This moment wasn’t just about him—it was about us. About trying, building, and staying, even when it scared me.
He turned to look at me, his brow furrowing slightly, his eyes full of quiet concern.
“Together.” Leaning in, I kissed his cheek softly, lingering just a second before stepping back.
“Together,” he murmured back.
He opened the door, and the cold air hit me first. Nova and Ollie stood there, Scarlette at Nova’s side, holding tightly to her coat. Scarlette’s eyes darted between Austin and me.
Austin crouched, his attention fully on Scarlette. “Hey, Scarlette. You made it. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” she said, then tugged on the guy whose hand she was holding onto. “This is my Ollie.”
Austin’s smile warmed as he stood up and held out his hand.
I barely breathed as the man stepped forward. He was tall, strong, and imposing, his hand extending to Austin in a way that made me tense. His hand looked like it could break Austin’s with ease. He wore a long black overcoat, black pants, and a tan sweater, paired with big brown combat boots that only added to his commanding presence.
In a deep accent, he said, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Oliver—or as my girls call me, Ollie.”
Austin nodded and shook his hand. “Austin.”
My chest tightened, the nerves churning again. What if I said the wrong thing? What if Nova didn’t think I was good enough, didn’t trust me near Scarlette? What if everything we were trying to build crumbled before it even had a chance?
Austin turned back to me. “This is Charlie, my wife.”
“Hi,” I said, my voice quieter than I’d hoped. “Come in. Let’s get you settled.”
Nova stepped inside first, scanning me up and down. She wore a black dress under a sleek black coat, paired with Docs that gave her an edge. Her hair was pinned up in a beautiful updo, the kind of look that was both elegant and effortless.
She was stunning—so stunning it took my breath away for a moment. She stepped forward, closing the space between us, and wrapped me in a hug. It caught me off guard, her embrace warm and genuine, and I stood there, unsure of what to do. Then, slowly, I let myself relax and hugged her back, the tension in my chest easing just slightly.
When she pulled away, I noticed tears building in the corner of her eyes. She coughed and then waved her hand in the air. “It’s nothing. I’m just emotional.”
