“I love you so fucking much.” He yanked me against him and kissed me hard. “Merry Christmas, Laney. Here’s to forever.”
I stared at the upright tree, my eyes prickling as the memory blurred into the present.
“What should we do with the mugs?”
He tilted his head to the side, giving him the puppy-dog look I adored. “The mugs?”
“Our holiday tradition. Do you want to split the mugs, or do you want to get rid of them?”
“Christ.” He pinched his nose. “We’re not getting rid ofour mugs, Laney. They stay together. They were meant to stay together.”
Was he talking about us or the actual mugs? I wasn’t sure. I yawned. It was emotionally exhausting to be near him.
“We can talk about the mugs later. You need to get some rest. Your event is on Friday, right? Do you want a ride there?” he asked.
A part of me loved this attention. When we first got married, he loved driving me to events. He was my biggest cheerleader and would create a playlist based on the theme of the event. That stopped four years ago when work became too busy, and while I understood life changed, I missed his consideration. Right now his offering didn’t change a thing.
“I should be able to drive myself.”
“Right.” He swallowed hard. “I’ll head to the rental. Have a good night.”
I nodded, my stomach twisting into a pretzel. This was painful. Neither one of us wanted him to leave, but he had to. It was too little too late. The silence grew, each second causing the ache in my chest to double. Connor stared at me, the indecision on his face matching mine. His chest heaved, and he kept cracking his knuckles.
I had to be strong. Sophia told me he’d be hard to resist, that he’d try to fix this. Boy, was she right.
“Good—”
“I’m not going away. I just… need you to know that. I’ll leave and go sleep alone, wishing I was next to you, but I’m not leaving. We’re not getting rid of our fucking mugs. You are my wife.” He exhaled and marched toward the door. “I love you,Laney, and I’m so sorry you felt like the only option was to walk away. I’ll fix it. Just wait.”
He didn’t look back before walking out the front door, leaving me to sit with his parting words.
You are my wife.
I loved hearing that. I loved the fierceness, the protectiveness, the desire in those words, but words were just that. I plopped down face-first on the couch, moaning into the pillow. I came here to avoid him.
“Not you too.” My mom joined me in the living room, her tone amused. “You and your dad are whining, and I’m too old to deal with whiny children.”
“I broke my ass, woman!” My dad’s voice carried from upstairs, making me laugh.
“Your father is a handful. Did Connor leave?”
“Yes, Mom. Why else would I be whining face down on the couch? My husband keeps showing up when I’m trying to leave him. It’s quite annoying.”
“He looked miserable.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“Always yours.” She patted my back and ran her fingers through my hair. “Decorating this green beast is canceled. Do you want to put on a sad movie and cry it out? We can bust out the futon and watch it in our spare bedroom?”
My heart ached from nostalgia. We used to have movie nights in their bedroom with the biggest TV in the house. Feeling so accepted by my parents, I was content. I was never the kid who rebelled against her parents in her teens. They have always been such a source of comfort that I didn’t realizehow much I missed them while living in the city. I never felt alone here.
“Yeah, I kinda do. But what about Dad’s rom-coms?”
“He can cry with us. He’s the one who invited Connor here, so he doesn’t get to pick the movie.”
“Bullshit!” my dad yelled.
My mom and I chuckled before she patted my knee. “Grab your blanket and join us.”
