Page 39 of Not In The Christmas Plan
A hot, sharp fire flares in my chest.
“First of all,” I say tightly, “don’t act like you know what my sisterneeds better than me.”
“I’m not—”
“Yes. You are,” I grate out. “And what? You think it’s fine if she’s not home for Christmas? If her and the babies have to spend their first holiday together in a hospital?”
He lifts his hands in surrender. “Whoa. This isn’t court and I’m not trying to argue with you. What I’m saying is it’s okay if things don’t turn out how you want them to. That’s it, and that’s all. It doesn’t mean the world is ending.” His voice softens and he takes a step toward me. “But if it feels that way to you, that’s okay too. I’m sorry if my words suggested otherwise.”
His apology, surely meant to calm me, only grates against my skin.
“You don’t get it,” I snap, my voice rising. I’m not trying to yell at him, but I need to drown out the terror clawing at my throat. “I need to believe they’ll be home and everything will be alright. I need you to believe it too. If you don’t…” My throat closes around a knot of emotion.
My dreams of a family. Dad. Now Christmas. What’s next?
“Eve—”
I hold up a hand to keep him from touching me.
“I’m tired, Grant. I’m tired of loving things that get taken away,” I whisper. And I am tired. Down to my bones weary from loss after loss.
And if it’s inevitably going to happen again, maybe it’s better to keep the hits rolling all at once.
“You need to go,” I force out.
“Go? Wait, Eve, let’s talk about this.”
I shake my head. “There’s nothing to talk about. We had our fun, but let’s be honest—this was never going to work.”
His face falls. “It can if we want it to.”
I wanted Dad to live a long and healthy life. I wanted to be by my sister during the most difficult time of her life.
“We don’t always get what we want.”
He scrubs both hands over his face. “Come on, Eve. Don't do this again. You can’t push me away. Not after everything we've shared. I care about you—more than you can possibly imagine—but I can’t be the only one fighting here. I’m only human. There’s only so many times I can be shut out before I stop trying.”
I hate the pain coating his voice.
I want to run into his arms and promise I'll do better, while another part of me wants to curl in on myself and shut the world out before it can break me again.
My emotions are a mess. And as always, when the fear gets too big, I retreat. Because as much as this hurts now, the thought of what I'll go through if I lose Grant later feels unbearable.
He reads the decision on my face and his shoulders fall. One more sigh, and he walks out the nursery.
Moments later, I hear the front door opening and closing, and his car pulling away.
The house instantly feels like a tomb without him. I wrap my arms around myself, but it does nothing to stop the chill that’s already seeped in.
Chapter seventeen
Grant doesn’t come back. Not that evening or the following day. Not even to pick up his clothes and laptop. I really did push him away for good.
So, for the next week I get what I thought I wanted all along—peace.
I use my time wisely, going all out to make the interior of the house just as decked out as the exterior. I wrap lights around the banister and decorate the mantle with garland and bows. At this point the tree is more tinsel than branches and needles, but it lights up the room. I even found the old Christmas village complete with a bookstore and post office that Ivy and I started in high school.
Everything old and unused is packed in boxes in the garage. If Ivy homes tomorrow for Christmas, everything will be ready.
