“I swear, I hate Christmas. It’s all about money and commercialism and fake families and?—”
I dragged him through the door of the store to the rack of ugly sweaters behind the mannequin.
He stared at the gaudy mess in wonder, eyes widening slightly as I tugged out a random sweater—green-with-white reindeer patterned over it—and placed it against his chest with raised eyebrows.
“It’s ugly,” he drawled out, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “Fuck.” He laughed. “When I was a kid, I had this stupid little dream that every year on Christmas, me and my family would wear ugly Christmas sweaters and tease each other about them. I’d have a closet full and every day during the week of Christmas, I’d choose more and more embarrassing ones to make my family laugh.” His face fell and a darkness swirled in his eyes. His gaze slid from the sweater I held against his chest to my face. “Then, my fucking uncle happened. He’s a piece of shit, and my mom was too scared to do anything.”
I watched him carefully as he took the sweater from me and turned the front toward himself. He touched the fabric, thumbcaressing it like he’d fallen into the fantasy of what could’ve been with his family.
I smiled and grabbed another sweater off the rack, this one red with a printed Santa hat. Beneath the image were the words “Slay, Bitches.” Grinning, I nudged the hanger against his arm, and he looked up at it. The moment his eyes met the words, he laughed loudly.
“Oh my fucking God. This is awesome.” He swept his fingertips over the fabric and his laughter grew. “That would be the perfect sweater foryou.”
I nodded enthusiastically, and he froze.
“You’re going to buy it?” he asked, and I winked in answer, throwing it over my arm.
I took the green one and did the same, then braced myself for the pain so I could use my voice. “Buy more. For our family.” The familiar pounding in my throat hurt, but I ignored the pain. There was no way I could type with my hands full.
“Really?” His voice wavered, and when I gave him alook, he grinned widely. “All right. Remember, you asked for this.”
I enjoyed every second of his shopping. By the time he was done, he had at least twenty different sweaters, some more adult-rated than others, but all ugly. It was perfect, and I could already imagine Lucy’s face when she saw them. Dalton would find them hilarious.
With another two bags added to our haul, we were back in the mall, and Ezra had the biggest smile I’d ever seen on his face. He had an extra skip in his step.
I ran out to the car to drop off the bags before I found him again in front of a stationery shop, ogling the notepads with intrigue. His face lit up when he saw me and my heart took off in a hammering beat. His hand slipped back into mine and he leaned up to kiss me on the cheek. Warmth spread through mystomach and up into my chest, and I contemplated the new and very nice sensation. I’d been feeling this a lot around Ezra.
We visited the chocolate store that I’d seen him eyeing on the way in, and I made him buy a whole lot of that, too. He’d given up on the protesting, much to my relief.
“Where to next?” He bounced on his feet as we left the chocolate store. “I was thinking we could go to an underwear shop.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I bet we could find some interesting stuff there.”
I snorted silently and shook my head at him, and he laughed.
“Ezra?”
A woman’s voice stopped Ezra in his tracks immediately, pulling me to a halt as well. His eyes widened as they slid to me, fear plastered across his face. We turned and came face-to-face with a woman who looked so much like an older female version of Ezra, it wasn’t hard to figure out she was his mother. She had the same face, from their noses to their mouths to their eyes.
“Ezra!” She clutched her bag to her side and rushed toward us, but Ezra’s entire demeanor changed. His body went tight and he leaned in closer to me. Instinctively, I slid half in front of him, protecting him with my body. The movement made her pause as she came to an abrupt halt in front of me. “Ez?”
“Mom?” Ezra buried himself against my back, and I let him, keeping an eye on the woman who seemed innocent, but I knew better. Sometimes it was the least suspicious ones who were the worst.
“Where have youbeen?” Her tone came out screechy as she tightened her hold on her bag, her stare sliding to me. “I’ve been worried sick for years. You just left the house and were gone when I got home from work. Your uncle?—”
“He’s not my uncle by choice,” Ezra hissed.
“—told me you were home when he left to go to Frank’s. And look at you. Why do you have bruises all over your face?” She shot me a glare. “Was it you? Did you do this to him?”
“Mom, stop!” Ezra edged to my side, eyebrows drawn low. “Stop acting innocent. YouknowI left and never came back because of Gary. And this?” He pointed at his face. “Is nothing compared to what he used to do to me. He beat the shit out of me.”
“That can’t be true.” She rolled her eyes and huffed, smiling at an older gentleman who seemed like he was going to stop and see if everything was okay, but he kept walking.
People were beginning to look at us, and I shifted my weight uncomfortably between my feet. I’d made it my mission to fly under everyone’s radar. I was a nobody and this was giving me attention I didn’t want. Yet, I wasn’t going to let Ezra face her alone.
“Gary would never do that.” She shook her head, brushing a hand through her dark hair. “He saved us when we had nowhere else to go.”
Ezra flinched, his face paling.
“You let it happen, Mom. You made us live there and it’s your fault.” Ezra’s voice bordered on hysterical anger, and I reached behind to grip his wrist for support. Some of the tension bled away from his body and he sighed.
