Page 130 of Beautifully Messy
Sydney expanded her family law practice and continued working with domestic violence survivors alongside my mom. I work remotely now, traveling only when necessary.
We’ve settled into a fragile but peaceful co-parenting rhythm with Mason. Anna spends one weekend a month in D.C., and she loves her time with him. He might never be my favorite person, but he’s shown up for Anna this year.
I wrap one arm around Anna and the other around Sydney, pulling them in for a tight hug. “We’ll be okay,” I reassure them both. “You have fun with your dad and everyone here, Bug. And we’ll be back before you know it. We’re staying down the road so your dad will call if you need anything.”
“Is Santa going to bring me a cat?” Anna’s teary eyes go wide and hopeful.
“Ha, good one, kid. No cats.” They both love to tease me about my dislike of cats. “Didn’t you ask Santa for a dog?”
“She sure did.” Sydney smiles. “You’ll get presents here from Santa tomorrow, and he’ll deliver some to our house. Those you can open when we get back. Nana Vera promised to check and make sure a puppy wasn’t locked in a box under the tree.”
“Okay, Mama. Two days until you get me?” Anna slides over to Sydney’s lap.
“Two days.” Sydney kisses the top of Anna’s head. She wipes her eyes and says, “Come on. Let’s go say hi to everyone.”
They get out of the car and walk toward the waiting arms of her dad and grandparents.
Anna, always our little ray of light, turns back, her curls bouncing as she runs straight into Sydney’s arms for one more hug. Sydney holds her tight, whispering into her ear before letting go. Anna puts a hand over her eyes, warding off the sun, and waves to me before skipping into the cabin.
A tumble of curls hurtles down the stairs and tackles Sydney in a massive hug. Jules is the one person who truly understands the complicated, messy choices and who has supported her every step of the way. They laugh and chat their way to the car. Jules salutes me and hustles back inside.
Sydney's eyes are red-rimmed, and her mouth trembles. But she doesn’t hide her pain. She lets me see the highs and lows. No longer swallowing it down, she knows I won’t run when things get hard.
“Let’s go to the resort,” she says, leaning over the center console to press a kiss to my lips.
I thread my fingers through hers and steer us toward the village.
Her face lights up as she figures out where we’re going. “Have I told you how much I love you today?”
“Doesn’t hurt to say it again,” I smirk, and she leans in to kiss the corner of my mouth, her lips finding my dimple.
“I’ll show you properly how much I love you once we check in at the resort.”
And with a wink, she pulls me in through the bookstore doorway.
The store has been transformed into another holiday wonderland. A castle rises from the center of the train table, surrounded by tiny figurines. Elves andfairies, dwarves and knights, are all poised for adventure. It’s whimsical and absurd, and absolutely perfect.
“We’ll bring her here before we leave,” she says, swiping at her eyes. “Anna will love this.”
I live for the days when I can get under her skin and make her eyes flash that thin gold ring. That’s when I know her claws are about to come out. But being the person she turns to for comfort? I hold her face in my hands and let my thumbs wipe away her tears.
“Did you ask Santa for books, or can we pick out some ourselves?” I joke, wrapping her in my arms.
“Careful, or you might find Mr. Whiskers sitting under the tree instead of the puppy.” She flicks my nose and wanders off.
She passes the rows of books, fingers tracing spines, eyes scanning titles, and I can tell her mind is somewhere else. I grab a few books she’ll love. I can’t help it; learning her taste in stories was the first language we ever spoke fluently.
At the register, she looks around, eyes wide, and says, “That’s it?”
“What do you mean?” I play dumb, though I have a good idea. She’s not subtle when she’s holding her breath, waiting for something.
“Are we leaving now?” She scans the shop again, her gaze darting from the train table to the counter.
“Did you want to grab something for Anna?”
“No…No, I’m fine,” she stammers, already turning toward the door.
“Sydney, did you think I was going to propose?” I ask, holding back a Cheshire grin.
