Page 118 of Nice Guys Don't Kiss Like That At Christmas
“Adam,” Poppy cuts in, “do something heroic and preferably shirtless.Eve needs one of those Hallmark movie moments where the brooding hero fixes everything with his impressive biceps and emotional availability.”
“Oh, and by the way,” Claire interrupts, her tone turning more serious, “I may have done some slightly questionable IT work and almost got fired, but there were complaints against Chuck.From patients who he didn’t listen to about their own experience.And his father pulled some strings.This man had the medical knowledge.He knows his shit, and he forgot that patients were people, too.”
I crouch down beside Eve, careful not to startle her.The hardwood floor is cold against my bare feet, a sharp contrast to the warmth radiating from her.“Let me see it,” I say gently, in the same tone I use for anxious animals.“Where is your first aid kit?”
She points underneath the bed, and I wonder what else we have hiding under there.I clean the wound carefully, softly and she winces.“We could make a new heart.One for your grandpa.We could write the memories the heart has seen and make it into a memory book.We could…”
Eve’s friends are quiet, but so is Eve and I stop, watching her.
“What if I’m not strong enough?”Eve whispers, so quietly I almost miss it over Mariah still belting from the bathroom.“What if Sandwich Bay Elementary won’t hire me once Chuck starts spreading rumors?”Her voice cracks.“What if I fuck it up for you?”
“Eve,” Claire says firmly through the screen, “Sandwich Bay Elementary would be lucky to have you.And if they can’t see that, we’ll find somewhere that does.”
Eve’s eyes are too bright when she looks at me, whiskey-brown and vulnerable in a way she rarely allows.“I want to protect you, too.”
“From what?A podcast hosted by Dr.Ego?”I raise an eyebrow, the corner of my mouth twitching.“Foster, I literally had to explain to Mayor Clark why his prize bull was shooting blanks at the county fair.On the local radio station.During the Christmas parade.Trust me, my reputation can handle your ex.And if it doesn’t?It doesn’t.”
A year ago, I’d have made a joke.Not because I didn’t care, but because I didn’t know how to stand still in someone else’s fear.
But now?I look at her, really look, and I tell her:
“And if it gets too hard?”I shrug.“I’ll ask for help.Even if it’s messy.Even if it makes me feel like I’m not the guy everyone depends on all the time.”I pause, voice low.“Being steady doesn’t mean doing it alone, Eve.”
“B-but… you could lose everything.You… you… you’re… you mean…” Tears fall down but her voice doesn’t break when she says, “I love you.”
My heart stops.
My whole body stills.Eve Foster loves me.And she’s crying.Actually crying. She told me she didn’t even cry when her marriage crumbled.Or when her last scan was questionable and she needed a biopsy.She didn’t cry for bad news or goods.
And now she’s crying.Because of me.Because she loves me.
I don’t think.Don’t hesitate.I pull her against my chest, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other arm wrapping securely around her as the dam finally breaks.Years of held-back tears pour out against my skin, her body shaking with sobs she’s probably kept locked inside since her diagnosis.
I hold her, steady and strong, trying to be the anchor she’s always been for herself.My towel situation is completely forgotten.Nothing matters except Eve, finally letting go of the control she’s maintained for so long.I’ve seen it before: in animals who wait until they feel safe to fall apart.In my brother, months after coming home.
Her trust hits me hard.This is Eve without armor, without the distance she always wears.
“I love you,” I murmur, dropping a kiss to her nose, her cheeks, her lips before looking at her, needing her to understand, to hear me.“I love you so much.I’m in love with you.And listen.We’ll face this together.Whatever Chuck throws at us, we handle it together.The two of us and our three dogs.”
“I love you so much,” she whispers.
A loud clanking sound reverberates through the walls, followed by the distinct sound of water rushing through pipes.Eve startles against me.
“What was that?”she asks, her voice muffled against my chest.
“Yes, what was that?”Her friends ask, frowning.“Do we need to call someone?”
“The pipes,” I say, unable to help the smile forming.“They’ve been acting up since we arrived, but now...”
She pulls back just enough to give me a skeptical look, though her eyes are still wet with tears.“You’re not suggesting...”
There’s a loud knock at the door and Eve jumps at Sally’s voice: “Don’t mind the noise!The plumber called.It looks like the pipes in the east wing magically fixed themselves!”
Eve’s expression shifts from disbelief to reluctant amusement.“That’s...statistically improbable.”
“Yet medically verifiable,” I counter, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.“The pipes have officially given us their blessing.”
“The pipes can keep their opinions to themselves,” she mutters, but she’s smiling now, hands on me.
