Page 67 of Perfectly Complicated
“I know you can.” His voice is gentler. “But you shouldn’t always have to. Let me be that someone.”
“Rourke…” I sigh. “I don’t knowhow. I’ve been doing everything myself since Aria was born.”
He stops, then takes both my hands and pulls me to my feet. “Then let me show you,” he says, his hands sliding to my waist. “Startingwith a tree.”
I tilt my head. “I appreciate you wanting to do this for me, but I don’t need a tree to make me happy.”
“Then let me do this for Aria.” He looks down at her playing on the floor. “And I’m not buying some scraggly excuse for a tree from a parking lot.” He motions toward my plant in the corner. “Or decorating a houseplant again.”
“Hey, I like my Christmas plant, okay?” I say, my lips curving into a grin. “I plan on putting more lights on it…and you.”
He looks away and laughs softly. “Fine. We keep the Christmas plant, as long as you agree to a tree.” His gaze meets mine again. “Deal?”
I don’t know why this feels big, but it does. I’ve always been independent. Accepting help with something as simple as a Christmas tree shouldn’t be hard. But I’ve had no one to rely on for so long, I don’t remember what it’s like to trust someone else to carry the weight.
“All right,” I say reluctantly. “Just know this isn’t easy for me.”
His brow knits. “Why?”
“I don’t know…” I pause, trying to find the words. “It’s not just that I’ve been let down too many times. I’ve also been afraid to hold on to this dream about what Christmasshouldlook like. You know, families together on Christmas morning. A mom and a dad. The whole picture.” I shake my head. “That’s not my life. So part of me wonders, why pretend? Why put up a tree when I can’t give Aria what she really needs?”
He stares at me for a beat. “But that’s just it,” he says. “You’re already giving her what she needs.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re making sure she has the most important things—love, security, and a mom who shows up every day. It’s not about having the perfect family.”
I bite my lip, even though I know he’s right. If I wait to make those memories with her when Idohave the family of my dreams, I might wait forever. “Okay, so where exactly are we supposed to get this perfect tree?”
He picks up his phone. “There’s a Christmas tree farm about an hour outside town. They have sleighs for pictures, reindeer to pet, an entire Christmas tree farm to wander through…basically, it’s a Christmas lover’s dream.” He shows me pictures on their website, which means he’s already researched this place.
“Aria might be too little to remember it,” he continues. “But you’ll remember. Don’t you want a picture of her in front of the tree on Christmas morning?”
I look at this man in front of me who claims to hate Christmas but spent last night stringing lights around my living room to surprise me. And now he’s researching Christmas tree farms. What changed? What’s gotten into Rourke Riley that he wants to spend his day off cutting down a Christmas tree?
I know the answer—he cares about me and Aria.
“Okay,” I whisper as I blink quickly, but my eyes are already stinging with tears.
His eyebrows rise. “Okay?”
A slow smile spreads across my face. “Yes. Let’s pick out a tree.”
Aria squeals in delight, almost like she understands.
Rourke laughs, and for once, it almost seems like we’re living the dream. A family cutting down their first Christmas tree together.
“Just so you know,” I say. “I’m paying you back for this.”
“Janie,” he says, intertwining his fingers through mine. “When I do things for people I care about, I don’t expect anything in return. You being with me is more than enough.” He lifts our joined hands and presses a kiss to the back of my hand. “Let’s get you the Christmas tree of your dreams.”
NINETEEN
Rourke
When we arrive at the Henderson Christmas Tree Farm, it looks just like the website. Rolling hills dotted with all shapes of evergreens, a rustic barn that’s on the verge of collapse, and families wandering the rows with mulled cider while their kids play tag between the trees.
It’s the kind of weather-beaten establishment whose reputation has spread by word of mouth, including generations of families who’ve cut down their Christmas trees here.
