Page 38 of My Ex for Christmas
Before I can even attempt a response, Mom comes to my recuse. “Veronica,” she says as she comes out of the kitchen, “they just walked in the door. Leave them be.”
Ronnie huffs, crossing her arms. But Mom ignores her, turning back to us.
She grins. “Hadley. It’s so good to see you, honey.”
Hadley glances nervously at me, then back to my mom. Her smile wobbles a little. “It’s really good to see you, too, Michelle. Merry Christmas.”
“Come here!” Mom beckons her forward. “I need to give my girl a hug.”
I release Hadley’s hand, and she steps forward cautiously. Mom closes the remaining distance, pulling Hadley into her arms. The wine Hadley insisted on bringing as a gift gets squished between them.
“You’ll have to tell me about your time in Brazil. I want to hear itall,” Mom says to her. “But first, let’s eat.”
We find the rest of my sisters in the kitchen, and they all make similar comments about our relationship that Ronnie did while they pull Hadley in for hugs.
I watch it all with a content smile on my face. This is exactly where I belong, where Hadley belongs—with my family.
We sit down at the table and dig into our breakfast—full English, just like Mom serves her customers at the diner. Christmas in the Dawson household is a casual affair. We wake up and eat, exchange presents, and then we spend the day watching movies, playing board games or, my personal favourite, taking a nap.
“So what’s it like working for a billionaire?” Andrea asks Hadley, wiggling her brows.
“You have to tell useverything,” Isabella adds.
Hadley laughs. “A lot less glamourous than you might think. Thiago keeps things pretty chill, even when his schedule gets to be demanding.”
“But you get to travel!” Marcy says. “That alone would be worth it.”
“I won’t deny that’s been a perk.” She glances at me quickly, then averts her gaze. “But it does get old after a while.”
I sit up straighter at that. Maybe I’m reading too much into her words, but it sounds like she might…want to stay.
“How long are you here for?” Mom asks.
And there goes that.
Damn it. I was hoping we’d be able to make it through the day without someone asking that question. It isn’t that I don’twant to know—I’ve been tempted to ask myself—but I don’t want our bubble to be popped so soon.
“I’m not sure,” Hadley replies. “We have our grand opening winter festival this week, and then it depends how long it takes to find a new manager. We’ve been having trouble hiring someone.”
Selfishly, I hope they never do. Hadley is already on top of everything. It wouldn’t be a stretch for her to take it on permanently.
But is that what she wants?
I haven’t brought up her job since we were snowed in at Dirty Dick’s. I want her to see that settling forokayisn’t really living—not when she can have so much more—but I don’t want to push her away either.
Ronnie, thankfully, pulls Hadley into a conversation about some kind of clothing trend, and I let out a quiet breath of relief. Mom sends me a sympathetic look.
Soon, Hadley and I will have to talk. Properly. But for now, I’m going to enjoy the holiday with all the people I love most.
It feels a little strange knocking on my own bedroom door, but Hadley looks deep in thought. I don’t want to startle her.
“Everything alright? You’ve been gone a while.”
After we exchanged gifts—I gave Hadley another bottle of that vanilla perfume, and she gave me tickets to a sold out concert for one of my favourite bands, procured through a connection of Thiago’s—she slipped out of the room. I finally went after her when she hadn’t made her way back.
Hadley looks over her shoulder from where she stands in the middle of the room. She has a framed picture in hand. I don’t even have to look to know which one it is.
“Shoot, sorry,” she says. “I was leaving the bathroom and then I saw this on my way by.” She holds up the frame. “You still have it.”
