I’m so very tired of being alone.
But this isn’t real. It never was.
I turn and walk past him before he can stop me, opening the door. He follows, of course.
When we step into the living room, everyone is already seated. Valerie and Mallory are on the sofa. Dr. Bob is in his recliner. Tyler and Grant are sitting in two armchairs, and Grant’s head is lowered.
“Will you please sit?” Valerie asks, gesturing to the empty love seat.
I don’t wait for Alex to answer and take a seat. He joins me, taking my hand in his and holding tight.
“We sincerely apologize for the way you’ve been treated, Finley,” Dr. Bob says. “Grant has something to say.”
Grant looks up, his eyes red like he’s been crying. He swallows. “I’m sorry for my behavior. I’m upset and took it out on you, but it won’t happen again.” His words sound right, but there’s still an air of defiance under the surface. He still resents me being here.
“Thank you,” I say simply. “I accept.”
“I don’t,” Alex snaps. “You were out of line.”
Grant lifts his chin, meeting Alex’s glare head-on.
“Grant apologized,” Valerie says firmly, raising her hands. “Let’s try to salvage Christmas.”
Alex doesn’t look appeased, and Grant looks like a pressure cooker that’s let out a little steam but is still ready to blow.
“Okay,” Mallory says with a forced cheerfulness. “Should we finish breakfast then open presents?”
“That’s a good idea,” Valerie agrees.
A half-hearted chorus of not hungrys ripples through the room.
“Okay,” Valerie says, looking a little defeated. “Maybe we should open gifts. Bob, will you get us started?”
Dr. Bob looks like he doesn’t think it’s the best idea, but he obeys his wife, reaching under the tree and handing a present to Mallory.
She checks the tag and beams. “It’s from Alex. And it looks too big to be a gift card.”
He gives her a tight smile, then squeezes my hand.
She tears into the paper and squeals. She uncovers a cream-colored leather wallet—the same one Alex and I saw her eyeing at the market. “Thank you, Alex,” she gushes, clutching it to her chest. Then she grins at me. “And thank you, Finley.”
I smile back, warmth flooding my chest.
Dr. Bob must take that as a good sign because he passes out more gifts to everyone but me, which I expected. Still, I watch with genuine delight as they unwrap each present. Tyler has given his mother a painted portrait of the four kids when they were younger. I recognize it instantly from the photo Alex sent me.
“Tyler, this is… beautiful.” Valerie’s voice trembles.
“That’s not all,” he says, a little stiff. “It’s been a while since we had a professional family photo. I booked a photographer while we’re all here.”
“Oh, Tyler!” she exclaims. “Thank you.”
He gives a sharp nod.
One by one the gifts are opened, and laughter fills the room, and the earlier heaviness starts to lift. I ooh and ahh with the rest, caught up in their excitement. The unwrapping stretches on for over an hour, each gift shown and admired before moving to the next.
Alex must have tucked my presents for his family in the back, because they don’t surface until nearly everything is gone. At last, Dr. Bob pulls out the last few packages wrapped in paper I recognize.
He hands them around, and everyone looks down at the tags in surprise—everyone except Grant. He hangs his head.
