I was asking him to lose more of himself, but I wasn’t ready to give up yet. I needed to figure out why I was so damn afraid to be open about who I was.
He stilled his movements on my stomach, and I waited with bated breath for his answer. When what felt like an eternity ticked by, he replied, his voice so soft, I almost missed it.“I don’t know how much more time I have to give.”
A myriad of emotions streaked through me, making it impossible to swallow past the thick lump cemented in my throat. Instead of trying to form any form of response, I kissed the top of his head, allowing another tear to fall. Tristan nuzzled against my stomach, and a few minutes later, his breathing deepened, telling me he’d fallen asleep.
I didn’t move, staring up at the ceiling as I held tightly onto him. Maybe I needed to talk to someone. Or maybe I needed to be better at ignoring the ghosts of my past. Whatever it was going to take, I was determined to do it so long as it meant I got to keep Tristan.
The door closing woke me. I blinked several times, trying to remember where I was. I had fallen into a deep sleep with Tristan on my chestthatit took several seconds for the scowling woman standing in the doorway to the living room to come into focus.
I’d never met Emma Crutchens before, but Rob had a picture of her on his desk, and along with the photosthatcovered the wall in the hallway of the family home, there was no mistaking who was staring at me with hatred written all over her face.
She moved her head to the side, indicating for me to follow. Careful not to wake Tristan, I slipped off the couch, dread forming in my stomach. She crossed to the kitchen, and when I stepped inside, she closed the door behind me.
“Well. I had a feeling Tristan was seeing someone, but I didn’t expect for one minute it would be you.”Emma glowered at me, her features twisting into disdain.“It wasn’t enough for you to wear my husband down to the bone with your constant demands and ridiculous working hours, but you had to break Tristan too.”
My brows furrowed.“I didn’t know he suffered with fibromyalgia-”
“It doesn’t matter if you knew or not,”she hissed.“Perhaps if you’d treated my son with human decency,thenhe wouldn’t beon the verge of a flare-up. Ijusthope he can manage it before it gets any worse.”
My gaze dropped to the floor in shame. She was right. I hadn’t given a damn about Tristan’s well-being when I demanded he work his ass off to fix damage he hadn’t caused. Butthatwasn’t the case anymore.
“Mrs. Crutchens-”
“No, I don’t want to hear it,”she barked, folding her arms across her chest to glare at me.“I don’t know what you think is going on between you and my son, but it stops now.”
Anger bubbled under my skin. She may have been Tristan’s mom, but she didn’t get to dictate his life.“I think that’s for Tristan to decide, wouldn’t you say?”
Her nostrils flared, and she stormed across to where I stood. For a moment, I thought she was going to slap me, and I braced for it. But it never came. Instead, the pint-sized woman stared up at me, her features softening.
“My son means the world to me. From the minute he was born, he has brought this family nothing but joy and happiness,evenat times when our lives have been a struggle. Tristan is a good person; he has such a big heart and so much love to give. He deserves nothing but the best, and I will fight tooth and nail to make sure hegetsnothing but the best.”She paused to inhale a deep breath.“Isthatyou, Mr. McScroodge?”Before I could consider an answer, she added,“I want you to look me in the eye and give me your honest answer. If you say you are,thenI will do my best to accept whatever this is between you and my son. But if you aren’t,thenI will politely ask you to get the hell out of my house and leave my son alone.”Her voice cracked, and the dreadthathad settled in my stomach started seeping into the marrow of my bones as she repeated her question.“So, tell me. Are you the man my son deserves?”
The answer was obvious.
I wasn’t.
Tristan
“Triiiiiiis! It’s Christmas Eve!”
Ivy’s excited squeals pulled me from sleep, seconds before she launched herself onto my bed, landing on my feet.
“Ivy, Mom said to let him sleep,”Holly grumbled, following her sister into my room.
“Yeah, but it’s Christmas Eve! We always play games on Christmas Eve,”Ivy replied, sticking her bottom lip out at me.
I blinked the sleep away and stretched, relievedthatthe ache in my body had settled. My muscles still hurt, but nowhere near as bad as the last two days. In fact, I almost felt human again.
“What time is it?”I asked through a yawn.
“Midday,” the girls replied together.
“We’re playing Monopoly first,”Ivy said.
“No, we’re not. Dad said we could play Scrabble first,”Holly retorted.
“Scrabble's boring.”
“No, it’s not. You’re just not very good at it.”
