So here I sit, stumped but smiling, giddy to find out what’s underneath that next layer of paper.
For better or worse, we’ll find out what’s there, together.
December 23rd
Hollis
The start of the school’s winter break means the start of the kids being with Ryan for two whole weeks. I hate him for it, but not nearly as much as I would if I wasn’t lying in Jay’s bed.
Naked.
With him on top of me.
For the third night straight, he’s bringing to life every little piece of me I thought died with my marriage.
Especially when he puts that blessed mustache of his between my thighs and doesn’t stop working until he makes me see stars.
“Missed you,” he says, as he drops his head in my lap, the only thing either of us wearing is a blanket.
Outside the window, snow falls for the second day turning the world around the camper into a winter wonderland.
I trace his mustache. “You went to the brewery for three hours. You can’t miss me in that amount of time.”
He rumbles with a laugh that vibrates my lap. “Looks like I can.”
I hum an agreeing sound, moving my fingers from his mustache to his lips, him nibbling like he does before I move on to his jaw, then chest, then arms. All the way along him until our fingers interlace. I don’t know if what’s travelling between us is infatuation or intense fondness, but connected like this, whatever it is grows bigger within me.
“Christmas will be different for me next year,” I tell him. “Life will be different. I’ll have my kids more. This will be complicated.”
“You will.” His thumb swirls over mine. “I like your kids.” He brings the back of my hand to his mouth and kisses it. “And at least one of them likes me.”
“She’s seven, give her time,” I tease.
I look around his camper. It’s so perfect ... for him. I don’t know how this works. What comes next. How we go from me and him hiding from the holidays in our own little snow globe to being me, him, and my four kids with the holidays and a whole life outside of them. It feels impossible. Like I’d ruin the good thing he has with boo-boos and bedtime routines. Like maybe this is all we can ever be.
“Hey,” he says, sitting up so his eyes are level with mine. “You’re upset.”
I blink to fight ridiculous tears.
“Sorry.” My voice is brittle. “I don’t know why.”
He kisses me gently. “I do.”
I sniff. “Yeah?”
His lips press into a frown. “You’re worried your kids like me more than you.”
I laugh as I poke him, making him grunt; he pulls me into his lap and kisses my temple. “Tell me what’s going on.”
I sniff, wiping my eyes. “I don’t know. I feel happy. And I like you.Like youlike you.” I ignore his smirk. “And I’m worried that you’ll, I don’t kn—” A ringing phone cuts me off.
Myringing phone.
I reach across Jay to the shelf to grab it, Ryan’s name flashing across the screen making my pulse pick up its pace as I answer. Henevercalls. Something is wrong.
“Ryan?”
“Hollis. Hey.” He clears his throat. “Listen. The kids are crying.”
