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How can I tamper with that process without making her hate me?
You can just ask her.
The stupidest part of my fucking brain that’s a disgrace to even exist whispers.
The answer will obviously be no. Would she agree to have damn children when she put a timeline on how long she’s staying with me?
There are only seventy-one days left, by the way. I know because I’m counting every fucking one of them.
I stop beside her and jut my chin in the retreating family’s direction. “One would think they’re a walking Christmas tree with all the red and green.”
“Stop being a grinch.” She hits my shoulder with hers. “I think they look so cute.”
“The children or the amateur Christmas fashion?”
She suppresses a smile. “Both. And seriously, stop it. Just because you disregard the holiday doesn’t mean everyone should.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“You’re merely judging them?”
“And the eyesore color selection they willingly wear like a badge.”
“You’re just jealous you won’t look cool wearing a Christmas sweater and drinking some hot chocolate with marshmallows like normal people.”
I stare down my nose at her. “I look cool doing anything.”
“Oh yeah? Wanna bet?”
I see exactly what she’s trying to do, but since I’ve been an asshole due to my own insecurities, I go with her subpar manipulation attempt anyway.
An hour later, we’re dressed in matching Christmas sweaters that I wouldn’t subjugate a homeless person with wearing. Sasha even bought the red Santa hat with the white pompon.
She offered me one and I threatened to shoot the whole store down if she put the thing on me, so she gave up.
We’re now sitting on a pier overlooking the forest and sipping hot chocolate filled with more sickeningly sweet marshmallows than any human should consume. A giant Christmas tree is behind me, its annoying decorations hanging above my head. I chose this seat because Sasha wouldn’t stop taking pictures of me.
She’s been doing that ever since I agreed to this plan that I’m starting to regret. I don’t really, though, because she’s been smiling the entire time and getting as giddy as a kid with all the shopping and trying on different clothes.
“Are you going to stop taking pictures anytime soon?”
She snaps one more. “You’re so photogenic.”
I adjust my glasses. “I know. Comes with the superior genes.”
She rolls her eyes. “Would it hurt you to be more humble?”
“No, but it wouldn’t do me any good either.”
She goes through her phone, probably checking her camera roll. “Would Karina feel bad if I sent her these…? What am I saying? Of course she would. She said she wanted us to celebrate Christmas together.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I couldn’t. But maybe I should’ve. I can’t not celebrate it all my life, after all.”
I reach across the table and grab her chin between my fingers. Her startled eyes meet mine, brimming with green and soft yellow. “W-what?”
“Look at me when you’re talking to me.”
She slowly slides the phone onto the table. “You could’ve just said that. Why do you have to be intense about it all of a sudden?”
“How else will I be the center of your attention?” I stroke her chin before I release it. “I know I look perfect in pictures, but I’m better in real life.”
“Wow. I can’t take this anymore.”
“That’s what you said last night.”
She watches the people buzzing around us and hisses while laughing. “Kirill!”
“What? Wasn’t that the reference you were intending to go for?”
“No.” She laughs again, her expression the happiest I’ve seen since our wedding day. “You’re seriously impossible sometimes.”
“Does that mean I’m tolerable other times?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She takes a sip of her hot chocolate but keeps watching me from over the rim. “At the risk of feeding your ego, I’ll admit that you look cool even in a Christmas sweater.”
“I know.” I take a sip as well. “With the pure intention of feeding your ego, you look edible, even while wearing these hideous colors.”
She grins like an adorable idiot. “Really?”
“Yes. In fact, I wouldn’t mind you sitting on my lap to show you the evidence.”
I didn’t expect much from the statement, but Sasha leaves her seat and comes to sit on my lap. Her legs are on either side of my waist and she wraps her arms around my neck. “Guess it can’t be helped since you’re being a good sport today, I forgive you for being an asshole this morning.”
“I forgive you for scaring me to death.”
Her lips part. “I didn’t know you were capable of those feelings.”
“I am when it comes to you.” I sink my fingers into her hip. “I’m traumatized from seeing your fake body.”
“Is that why you asked me to apologize the other day?”
I nod.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers against my mouth. “I wanted to hurt you as much as you’d hurt me.”
“You went above and beyond hurting me back.”
