Page 130 of Please Hate Me

“Juniper Noelle,” Cameron scolded. “We don’t talk like that.”

“Daddy does.”

Her protest made my giggles harder to contain. I hoped my daughter would have the same spunk and sharp tongue as Juniper.

Cameron shot her his signature disappointed dad look, and she crossed her arms and huffed before turning to Sebastian.

“So-rry.”

Sebastian studied her little face, and I wished I could read his mind. I wasn’t trained to read body language like he was, but it was obvious that Juniper apologized out of obligation, not remorse. Sebastian’s enraged expression suggested that he was beyond fed up with the three feet of unadulterated sass sitting before him.

“Alright!” Sophia’s voice echoed from the middle of the house. “I found the pumpkins! We can decorate now.”

She rounded the corner with a cardboard box in hand, dressed in a onesie that matched the twins’. Sophia had to be the only adult on the planet who still looked sexy in footie pajamas.

“Masie, why aren’t you wearing the jammies I got you?” She pouted, setting the box on the table.

Because I belong to the vast majority of adults who look ridiculous in onesies.

I wasn’t going to tell Sophia that, though. She’d argue that point until eventually forcing me into the pajamas.

“I pee too often.” I leaned back on my chair, rubbing the curve of my stomach through my shirt.

“Ugh, fine. Maybe next year.”

The way Sophia spoke made the future sound definite, as if she knew something I didn’t. Unfortunately, nothing was set in stone. This time next year, Sebastian and I would be in Portland in a house that looked far too large for a family of three. A pit formed in my stomach when I realized how quiet our new life would be, and I wondered if I’d miss the chaos that came with the large family we lived with now.

I shook the thought off as Sophia opened the box. Pumpkin-shaped ornaments rattled against each other as she pulled one out with a wad of tissue paper.

“Here.” She extended the bulb to me. “Since it’s your first year decorating, it’s only right if you hang the first ornament.”

My hand shook as I reached for the decoration. I hadn’t decorated a tree since I left America the last time. What if I put it in the wrong spot? Was there even a right spot to hang it?

Sophia shook the small jack-o’-lantern toward me, and a wave of impending panic cascaded over me. Tsunamis of anxiety threatened to break the fragile flood walls keeping them contained... until Jasper hopped out of his chair and shuffledover to me. His little face was pinched as he took two of my fingers in one hand and reached the other toward the glass pumpkin in his mother’s hands.

“I’m helping,” he promised.

If that request had come from Juniper, Sophia probably would have hesitated, but Jasper wasn’t the type for mischief. So, she handed him the ornament, and he tugged on my hand, letting me know it was time to get up.

Together, we wandered hand in hand toward the massive tree in the middle of the two-story foyer. Next to it, I felt minuscule; the topmost branches rose high above the stairs and the second-story landing, nearly brushing the ceiling upstairs. Subtle heat from the numerous twinkling bulbs kissed my nose as I studied the pine up close. Slowly, I took a knee so I could look Jasper in his emerald eyes. Intense determination radiated from them as he passed me the bulb and pointed to a branch just above his head.

“I like it there.”

And that’s all it took for me to hang the bulb on the tree. The goofy grin on the jack-o’-lantern spun in a lazy, wobbly circle as I pulled my hand away. Jasper patted my back, as if he was congratulating a teammate after a winning game.

“Good job,” he complimented before toddling back to the table.

I remained crouched on the ground, slightly confused. I never expected to be bossed around by a three-year-old, but his determination to drag me into his little family warmed my heart.

If I did end up staying… I had a feeling I’d be happy here.

After we finished decorating, I started heading upstairs with Sebastian, but Sophia reminded me that Lucian still needed tobe punished. Upon hearing this, Sebastian gagged and fled to the safety of his apartment.

After Seb’s sudden exodus, Cameron and Sophia began the multi-step process of putting the kids to sleep. I felt like I’d be intruding if I offered to help, so I hid in Lucian’s room while listening to the sound of laughter floating through the house.

Would they be this happy if I stayed?

An icy feeling crept down my back, and I channeled it into something constructive: music. A universal language, the perfect vehicle to convey the emotions of the performer. Words were optional, but heart wasn’t. Once I became a celebrity, nobody would let me write my own music anymore. None of my songs lived to see the light of day. I would’ve loved for people to hear what I had to say, even if I wasn’t the one singing. To be honest, I probably would have been less sad if I had stopped at being a songwriter, rather than a musician.

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