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Winnie: Perfect. Hey, Maria, by the way, is it bad that I’ve already started my Christmas shopping for Izzy?
Sophie: Oh my God, SAME! I found the cutest outfit when Jude and I were at the mall the other day. Girl baby clothes are addictively adorable.
Me: I swear, you guys are going to spoil her rotten.
Winnie: Damn straight we are. That’s what aunts are for. You guys are coming to dinner tonight, right? And my little Izzy?
That’s what aunts are for. Obviously, that innocent comment does nothing for my current mental state. I force myself to respond, though, letting her know we’ll all be there.
But when the conversation moves to Rachel and Ty’s wedding plans, I have to set my phone down. Not because I don’t love talking with them, but because it makes me feel like an outsider. Like I shouldn’t even be involved.
This conversation has Remy’s sister, two of his sisters-in-law, and one soon-to-be sister-in-law, and they’re talking about family holidays and buying Izzy gifts and planning Ty and Rachel’s wedding, and I just can’t stop wondering… Where do I even fit in this equation?
Well, you are completely and emotionally invested in Remy and want forever with him…
I can’t deny that I want to be with him. I love waking up to him in my bed in the morning and seeing his face when I get home from work at night. I love how he is with Izzy. I love having him present in her life. I love having his support.
I just…love him. I am in love with him.
But I don’t know what he wants.
I know he feels deeply for me, but I don’t know if Remy Winslow can ever allow himself to go all in with a woman again. I never like to hold people’s pasts against them, but the reality is, his track record after his ex Charlotte called off their wedding isn’t exactly good.
And there’re times I just feel like he’s not opening himself up completely to me.
I think about the mysterious texts from “C” he still gets.
Or the fact that, after all this time, we’ve never once stayed at his place. I’ve literally never been to his apartment, and that feels like a giant red fucking flag. Like, what woman would just go along with something like that?
And what could all of that really mean in terms of where Remy’s head is at when it comes to us?
You need to figure that shit out and quick, because it’s not just your heart at risk. It’s Izzy’s, too.
Shit. The mere idea of putting Izzy through something like that makes me feel beyond terrible. I mean, I’m a grown woman. I’ve been through breakups and relationships ending, but Izzy is an innocent child. She doesn’t deserve to be a casualty because I was being stupid.
She doesn’t deserve to one day feel like a father figure walked out of her life because her mom was too naïve and too much of a coward to face reality.
I mean, does Remy want forever with us, or he is just playing house?
And perhaps more importantly, if he’s just playing house, with no plans for a future, where would that leave Izzy and me when he decides he’s done?
Maria
Winnie’s dining room is bustling with the entire Winslow gang. Even Uncle Brad and Aunt Paula have joined in tonight’s dinner.
Everyone is gathered around a spread of lasagna and garlic bread and salad, eating to their hearts’ content while the room bounces with laughter and chatter.
“Okay, we need to figure out what we’re doing for the holidays,” Winnie announces, taking her fork and tapping it against her wineglass. “We can do Thanksgiving here.”
“Aunt Paula, we should do Christmas at the lake house!” Ty shouts around a mouthful of pasta. “The ladies assigned me to the task of convincing you of that, by the way. So, consider this me, convincing you.”
“Real smooth.” Rachel slaps him on the back of the head with a sigh.
“You’re such an idiot,” Winnie mutters, but Paula is already smiling.
“Christmas at the lake house with everyone sounds like a wonderful plan to me,” she says, and her husband Brad grins and squeezes her shoulders.
“Only if you promise to make those cinnamon rolls.” He winks. “You know how much I like your buns, sweetie pie.”
Wendy and Howard snicker. Half the room groans. And Paula blushes and smacks her husband on the chest.
“Oh my gosh, Brad, you’re a dirty bird!”
But Brad just keeps it up. “Oh, but baby, you know you have the best buns.”
“Can we keep this conversation moving along?” Jude chimes in. “Or else Uncle Brad is going to make shit weird.”
“Don’t be such a prude, Jude,” Brad retorts, and Ty snorts.
“Yeah, Jude. Don’t be such a fucking prude.”
“Language!” Wendy exclaims with a roll of her eyes, and Howard chuckles softly beside her.
