Page 71 of What Happens This Christmas
With my heart beating rapidly, I could hardly even hear myself as I cleared my throat. “Mother,” I said as soon as my foot stepped over the threshold that separated outside from inside.
Putting her book down on her lap, she turned around and smiled at me. Too bad that smile wouldn’t be on her face for much longer. “Nick, Merry Christmas Eve.” So, she was going to pretend nothing was amiss.
Considering my options on how I wanted to address her latest actions, I looked out at the sky. “It’s not Christmas Eve yet,” I said, opting for acknowledging her statement. “The sun hasn’t even gone down.” That fact made the conversation I was about to have a little easier. It made me feel a tad less like a villain on this holy holiday, even if we weren’t religious.
“Regardless, how are you?” she asked.
I didn’t think she was prepared to hear my candid answer. “I’m swell.” I crossed my arms and leaned against thedoorframe. It was either that or lunge for her, so I went with the former. “Got a visit at the bar from an old friend today.”
“Did you now?”
Deciding I wanted to face her head-on, I walked around to stand in front of her. “You can cut the crap, Mom. I know you sent her.”
My mother may have been a lot of things, but meek wasn’t one of them. She had fortitude and stood her own with the best of them. So, when a hand flew to her chest as she clutched the pearls she wore around her neck, I knew it was all as fake as everything on Sibley. “I don’t like what you’re saying, and I don’t think I like what you’re insinuating.”
Narrowing my eyes, I looked at my mother and tried to figure her out. I wasn’t sure what had made me think I’d be able to now when I couldn’t my whole life. “She told me,” I said, hot blood coursing through my veins all over again.
“How did Sibley look?” she asked, a pencil-thin eyebrow going up.
Knowing that was how she chose to respond, everything I thought I wanted to say flew right out the window. It was all going to be for nothing. I saw that now and felt my body temperature drop significantly, which was a welcome reprieve from all of my anger.
As she stared at me, I knew I had to reply to her, but was coming up short. Instead, I shook my head. “Who cares how she looks? I’m married.” I raised my left hand to show her the proof in the form of my wedding band. Sure, it might’ve come off for a second there, but it was back on my finger and there to stay.
She stared at me and jutted her chin out like she did when she felt she was right about something. “Not for long, so consider that an early Christmas gift from me.”
An early Christmas gift?What was the return policy on a gift like that? “My life is not yours to play with.”
“Maybe it should be. Maybe I should’ve gotten involved years ago, then you wouldn’t be where you are today.”
“And where exactly is that?”This I’d really like to hear.A cold breeze blew through, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Between the obviously dropping temperatures and the way this conversation turned to one where guilt was going to take center stage… “I’m still married, Mom. Don’t you think that’s messed up?”
“Why?” She reached for her mug, clearly intent on feeling the warmth of her drink. “You don’t think Candy hasn’t surveyed her options?” Her lips met the mug, and she sipped as she waited for me to answer.
That was an interesting question. Candy was obviously a very attractive woman. She was young and intelligent, if a little standoffish. She could’ve had her pick of men to keep her in the life she’d grown accustomed to. But I knew without a shred of doubt that it wasn’t true. “No. I don’t,” I answered earnestly.
“You give that woman too much credit.”
Raking a hand through my hair, I stopped on the nape of my neck and pulled on it. “I never asked you to like her. I never pushed you two together. I figured if you were both fine with your lack of a relationship, then I should be too. So, I shut my mouth, but no more, Mom. This is my home you’ve come into, and you’ve made a fool of my wife one too many times. I won’t stand for it anymore.” I didn’t give a shit if it was almost Christmas or any other day of the year. If she couldn’t respect me and my wife, then she would no longer be welcome in our home.
She waved me off, her hand slicing through the air. “This little speech of yours would go a little farther with me if you weren’t divorcing her.”
“Well then buckle in for the ride of your life because I have news. I’m not divorcing Candy. I ripped up the papers. It was amistake. I made a mistake when I asked for a divorce. It’s not something we want.”
“We?” she asked, her voice hitting a new pitch.
Her hearing was as sharp as a tack, so I knew that wasn’t the problem. “Yes,we,” I repeated.
This conversation was no longer worthy of my time. I needed to get out of here and find Candy. I saw the mistake I had made in choosing to talk to my mother first. What I needed to do was talk to my wife. I needed to make sure she didn’t get the wrong idea. And even though it felt irrelevant now, I also would’ve liked to know what she was doing down at the pub in the first place.
Chapter 33
the fire that burned between us
CANDY
I surveyed my stuff. It was the lightest I’d ever packed in my life. Not that I was going far. Just to the hotel here on Fifth Avenue. Far enough to get out of the house, away from Nick and his toxic mother.
I always promised myself I would never back down when it came to Virginia Crane. She was so hell-bent on breaking us up, though, on seeing to it that Nick got the divorce he had asked me for. For those reasons, I could no longer keep that promise.
