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“Hey, hey,” he pressed a finger under her chin, lifting her eyes to his face. “What is it, azeezi?”
“Nothing. It’s stupid.” She spun away from him, out of his grip, away from him.
“What is stupid?”
She ground her teeth together, pushing the tears deep down inside of her. “This. Crying. I’m sorry.”
“Be sorry that you are not telling me the truth,” he said, fully aware of the hypocritical statement. “I’ve upset you.”
“It’s just …” she turned back around, and her face was such a picture of emotion that his heart squeezed painfully in his chest. She sucked in a breath, as though bracing herself for something and said, “I know we hadn’t discussed it. But … I can’t imagine you not being with us for Christmas.” Her eyes were huge, her cheeks pale. “And Dashan is so far away!”
His laugh was a soft sound, but pleasure was spinning through him. “Dashan is not so far away,” he promised.
“I always knew you’d go back. But I just can’t …”
“It would only be for a few days,” he said softly.
She nodded, forcing a smile to her face. It was brave, and it was watery. He lifted a finger and smudged it over her lips. “I did not anticipate that you would want to share the day with me.” His voice was dark.
“Yeah, well, I’ve kind of got used to you.”
He laughed. “Have you?”
She nodded, her eyes on his. “So much for keeping things light, right?”
“Tell me what you do for Christmas,” he said, wrapping his arms around her back, linking them just above the curve of her rear.
She nodded shakily, but her upset was obvious. “I try to make it special for Jordan.”
“Obviously,” he grinned.
“We usually see Brent’s family for lunch on Christmas eve. They live just over the common, in Barnes, so we walk.”
“In the middle of winter?”
“I love the cold. We rug up and bundle across the common. It’s so beautiful. Crisp and white and there are squirrels and Ivy and Holly and the stream is often frozen solid so that we can throw leaves onto it.” She smiled. “The older Jordan gets, the more magical it becomes.”
He nodded, his mind absorbing the beauty of the images she’d created.
“Then we come home and, depending on the time, we either have a light dinner or Jordan goes straight to bed. It’s a big day, full of laughter despite their grief over … Brent.” She smiled awkwardly, before continuing. “Once I’m alone, I can indulge in my thoroughly glutinous love of mince pies. I eat so many that I think I’m going to explode, and watch Die Hard.”
“Die Hard?” He burst out laughing.
“What? You know it’s a Christmas movie.”
“I have heard this theory. I’m not sure that taking place over Christmas qualifies…”
“Yes, well, this is my tradition, mister. Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.”
He nodded, his eyes shining with amusement.
“When we wake up, we open presents, and then go to church. It’s one of the few times a year we go, but it’s so lovely. Our whole community seems to turn up.” She smiled up at him. “And then we come home, and eat lunch. I cook turkey and stuffing and all the trimmings, and pudding and pies, and gravy and even though it’s just the two of us, and we eat together all the time, it’s Christmas and so it feels like a very special occasion.”
Ra’if’s heart was exploding in his chest. “And you want to share that with me?”
“I don’t know when I started to imagine that you would be there.” She groaned. “I’m such an idiot. I’m the one who’s been insisting that this has to stay casual. But my brain hasn’t been listening, apparently.”
“I would like to be a part of your Christmas,” he said softly. “If your brain decides it’s a good idea, then count me in.”
