Page 44 of Not In The Christmas Plan
“Me too.”
“And I know it’s not the same, but I’m glad you had Grant with you this past month, even if you won’t tell me what happened. I’m bummed to have missed all of our Christmas traditions, but at least you weren’t alone.”
The relief of having Ivy home fades as a weight presses in on me.I had Grant. And I pushed him away.
I think about how he admitted the loneliness of keeping himself apart from his family after leaving the NBA, but his vow to do better. To show up for them. For me. My stomach twists now thinking of how he’s currently alone instead of spending time with his brother and nieces after all the hard work he put into the house, while I’m here surrounded by love. Nothing about this is right.
And just like that, a plan forms.
“There is one tradition we can do together,” I tell Ivy, already thinking up my new list.
Ivy gasps. “That’s right! Our Christmas Eve movie. How could I forget? Let’s put Nia and Amani down and watch it before it gets too late.”
“Wait.” I look down at my niece and my heart melts all over again. “Can we bring them? I need to make up for lost cuddles.”
“Of course.”
Ivy and I go downstairs, settling onto the couch with the babies nestled close.The Preacher’s Wifestarts up as Braxton joins us, kissing Ivy, kissing his daughters, and sliding right into the warmth of our little circle.
I soak it all in while I can. Love, family, Christmas magic. And tomorrow, I’ll make everything right.
Chapter twenty
It’s a Christmas miracle. Snow in central Texas.
Really, it’s more of a dusting—melting the moment it lands on your palm—but by the time I pull into Grant’s driveway, it coats the rooftops like powdered sugar and makes everything sparkle.
The only thing breaking the peace is my phone buzzing nonstop in the cup holder. Ivy’s name flashes across the screen again. She found my note under the tree, which means she’s currently alternating between worrying and dreaming up different ways to strangle me.
I’ll deal with apologizing to her later. For now, I have another apology I need to make.
I place a hand on my stomach and let out a deep breath to ease the knot of nerves. I can do this. I just need to act like I’m in court.
I cut off the engine, grab the letter, and march to the door before I can talk myself out of it. When I ring the bell, I instantly regret not changing into something more put-together. Jeans and boots aren’t exactly somethingI’d wear to court. Maybe I should run to the gas station, change, and come back—
The door opens, and it’s too late.
“Eve?”
Just hearing Grant’s voice makes my whole being yearn. Seeing him makes me ache. While it’s still early morning, he’s dressed in jeans, a soft gray sweater, and the scarf I got him from the market.
I want to reach out, grip that scarf, and kiss him, but the guarded look in his eyes keeps me from acting on the impulse.
Instead, I square my shoulders and lift the letter. “Grant, hi. Good morning, er, that is Merry Christmas. I came to give you this.”
He frowns. “Am I being served?”
“No! I would never.” He lifts one eyebrow and I shrug. “I mean, Iwould,but that’s not what this is.”
He finally takes it, gently unfolding it to read its contents. Meanwhile, I can barely breathe. My stomach twists a little more with each second he stays silent.
When he finally looks up, his expression is unreadable. “Eve. What is this?”
“It’s a custody agreement.” His eyebrows shoot up, and I rush on before he can say anything. “It’s my plan to make everything up to you. You get to celebrate every holiday and birthday with Braxton and Ivy for the next two years—except Nia and Amani’s first birthday, obviously. I mean, I am a first-time aunt. After that though, we’ll split them evenly, alternating every year.”
I stop talking, though my pulse thuds in my ears. He’s studying me and I can’t read a single thing in his normally expressive face.
“A custody agreement,” he says slowly, “for two grown adults.”
