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The fact Saxon is sleeping two doors down makes me feel a touch better, and I close the door behind me, reassured. I slip under the covers, my eyes heavy with sleep as I turn to rest on my side. As I reach out to switch off the light, my leather-bound journals, which sit in a box near my bedside dresser, catch my eye.
I started keeping journals the moment I could read and write, and I’ve retained every single one since. Writing everything down was my form of therapy, my way of dealing with who I was. Some journal entries are too painful to read, detailing the horrific start I had in life, but most detail every happy moment I’ve shared with the people I love. Most entries are about Samuel, which is why they’re sitting in my room.
I’m so afraid that as time goes on without any improvement, I’ll forget my memories as they’ll be plagued down with a horrible, pain riddled reality. I’m afraid I’ll forget Samuel’s uplifting smile, contagious laugh, and his generous heart. But most importantly, I’m afraid I’ll forget how he made me feel time and time again. I’m afraid I’ll forget what it felt like to be connected to another person in a way that shadows any memories I’ve ever made.
Tears stain the pillow as I reach down and rummage through my box of memories—the only things I have left of Samuel. I run my fingertips over the leather journal I seek before opening it up to a page I’ve read many times before.
* * * * *
December24th/25th 2011
Dear diary,
As I write this, the biggest smile is plastered on my face and I doubt it’ll fade any time soon.
Christmas time has always been a special time for me. It was the time I became a Tucker, and as fate would have it, it’ll now be the time I was asked to become a Stone.
Magic is truly in the air—I can almost touch it. My Christmas angel is sleeping soundly beside me, exhausted after a day that can only be described as magical.
It began with breakfast in bed, my favorite of buttermilk pancakes and strawberries. Once I was done stuffing my face, Sam and I went into town to finish off our Christmas shopping. Much to Sam’s dismay, I got Saxon a small gift. Even though Sam hasn’t spoken to him in months, I still want to show him that we care. Christmas is about giving and family. I don’t think he’ll be at our Christmas family meal tomorrow, but regardless, I’ll send it if I have to.
Once we were done shopping, Samuel insisted I get a massage as he had a few things to take care of. Thinking back, I should have known he was up to something, but at the time, I was too excited at the chance of being pampered for an hour.
I floated out of the day spa, my body feeling so relaxed and my mind at peace. Once we arrived home, I told Sam I was going to take a nap. It was Christmas Eve and we didn’t have any plans—well, none that I knew of. He kissed me on the forehead and said he’d wake me when dinner was ready. I fell into a deep slumber, only waking when the delicious smell of lemon chicken drifted up the stairs.
It was dark out, the full moon shimmering off the white blanket of snow which coated our entire yard. I stood in front of our bay windows for minutes, reflecting on my good fortune. Not a minute goes by where I don’t appreciate what I’ve got, and who I’ve got. I’m surrounded by so many good people, people I love. And the one I love the most was spoiling me rotten when I smelled spring rolls.
I bounced into the kitchen to see Samuel pouring us two glasses of white wine. A feast was laid out on our marbled kitchen counter. My stomach rumbled in delight.
After we were done eating enough food to feed a small starving nation, we decided to sit in front of the fire and watch a DVD. Samuel let me choose the movie, which again, I should have guessed he was up to something. But I didn’t.
My eyes grew heavy halfway through “Pretty In Pink,” and before I knew it, I had passed out, using Sam as my cushion. I woke to soft butterfly kisses all over my face, then one big lick. No guessing who the lick was from.
Reaching down, I patted Thunder, burying my fingers into his soft mane. As I stroked his fluff, my fingers passed over his collar, feeling something dangling from it. I didn’t recall seeing anything different, so I pried open my eyes, the orange hue from the fire warming me instantly. When Thunder saw I was awake, he jumped on me, giving my face another lick, and it was then that I saw what was hanging from his collar.
A ring.
The flames echoed off the flawless contours, shooting sparkles across the room. Samuel gently unfastened the string from Thunder’s collar while I watched, eyes wide. He offered me his hand and I accepted, slipping my trembling fingers into his. I sat, speechless, waiting for what came next.
He gulped, and I could tell he was so nervous, but he squeezed my fingers and smiled. “I had this long speech planned out about how you make me feel, but nothing was good enough. No words strung together could ever convey how you make me feel.”
When he got up and then sunk to one knee, I allowed the floodgates to open and I cried happy tears.
“I love you, Lucy Tucker, so very much. Will you marry me?”
My heart soared and my body sang, it was by far the best moment of my life. “Yes,” I sobbed. “I’ll marry you, Sam.”
If I’ve ever seen Sam happier, then I can’t remember when. He slipped the ring on my finger, tears pricking his eyes. He scooped me up into his arms, kissing me passionately, taking my breath away.
I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his nape, never wanting to let go.
We made love in front of the fire, our bodies frantic, our love frenzied. When we lay naked, sated and content, I placed my hand out in front of me, admiring my ring and all that it represents. I couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Samuel Stone.
Sam nuzzled my hair, kissing me softly on the neck. “Merry Christmas.” Our grandfather clock chimed on the hour, revealing that it was indeed Christmas.
Turning to look at my fiancé (yes, fiancé!), I smiled. “Best Christmas present. Ever.”
Samuel’s expression turned bold as he rolled on top of me, slipping a hand between us, coming to rest at the junction between my legs. “Babe, I haven’t even begun.” He emphasized his point by running his finger up and down my needy opening.
