“Hey.” She touches my hand. “Thank you for staying for dinner, but I know you have calls to return and all of Whoville to steal Christmas from and so few days to do it. Maybe you should call your driver.” Her voice is soft and tight, like she’s holding back tears.
‘She’s pregnant,’ I want to say to Gran. ‘We don’t know what we’re doing. Help.’ The words hover on my tongue, heavy and desperate but I stop myself. Not yet. I need a doctor to confirm. I need to talk to my lawyer. I need ... something solid before I shatter destroy their little world.
Gran hums as she picks up our plates.
“No, let me,” I take the dishes from her. “You cooked, I’ll wash up.” Granted I haven’t touched a dirty dish since college, but I get the general jist of it after I scrub meat juice off of China with tiny Christmas trees bordering the edge.
It isn’t expensive dinnerware, but it’s special, especially to them. While it’s only the two of them, they are eating on Christmas China, making magic together. I shake my head,swallowing down the lump in my throat. This will be my baby’s family.
“So rich billionaires do dishes?” Gran playfully scrutinizes. “Bet you’ll leave all kinds of crap on my Christmas dishes and I’ll have to rewash them.” Feisty as ever.
“I’ll be sure to submit them for inspection before I leave.”
Juliet stands besides me, smiling though she looks unsteady on her feet. “I’ll dry,” she says. Juliet grabs a dishtowel and I snatch it from her.
“Go hang out with Gran, I got this.” I can’t have Juliet passing out or hurting herself in her condition.
After dinner, Gran insists on preparing leftovers for me. I laugh but I’m actually excited to eat them since all I have at the corporate suites is take-out and restaurants. It will be nice to have a home cooked meal to heat up. Juliet and her Gran have a little talk, but I can tell by their facial expressions that Juliet doesn’t mention the baby.
I feel a tense kind of stress that I rarely experience. It’s much worse than not knowing if I can land a deal; this is gut wrenching.
As soon as I’m done with the dishes, I figure its time for me to head out.
“It’s been a lovely evening, Gran, but I should get back to my hotel. I do have work to do,” I confess as I dry my hands on the towel and feel a pang of regret leaving them.
“Going home to load your sleigh?” Gran asks.
“According to the book Juliet read me at the library, I’m meant to be making a Santa outfit first."
I bundle up and step outside. The sky is clear now, the air crisp and sharp.
Juliet walks me out to the car dressed in too little. Her teeth chatter and I press down the urge to give her my coat.
“Well. I guess this is goodbye—for now. I mean, I’ll see you Monday.” She bites her lip and I know it’s to stop herself from saying more. The way her voice breaks on the last word almost undoes me. I draw her in, holding her tight, memorizing the shape of her against my body.
“I hate leaving you,” I whisper before I can stop myself. “Nothing has been decided.”
She tilts her face up, her eyes glistening. “Okay.” I know she doesn’t believe me.
I press a kiss to her cheek and step back before I change my mind entirely. “I’ll call you.”
She nods, blinking fast, and turns toward the warm light of her grandmother’s door. I watch until she disappears into her cozy, warm, loving life. As I slide into the limo, the ache in my chest blooms. For the first time in years, the road ahead feels lonelier than I can bear.
Chapter Twenty-One
Juliet
The weekend is quiet with Gran, the way winter should be. We light candles and make lentil soup. Gran and I have started a Christmas puzzle of puppies in Santa’s bag set in front of a roaring fire while Mrs. Claus is knitting in her chair. The puzzle is spread across the dining room table. We work on it as we eat, but Gran keeps watching me, those sharp eyes of hers catching the cracks I can’t quite cover.
She pretends to make small talk. “So, the Grinch didn’t stay the night?”
“He wasn’t snowed in.” I flash her a sweet smile, hoping she doesn’t see the pain on my face.
“Men don’t need snow to stay.” She fits an ear on a little black puppy in the bag.
I try to joke my way out. “I am sipping hot chocolate with the enemy, Gran. I needed a break.” I sigh, because, we definitely will be taking a break—forever.
Her brows lift, and she sets down her mug. “So, you’re falling in love with someone who doesn’t have your best interests at heart. That’s what’s troubling you.”
