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“Mhrry Cissmas,” he mumbled.
We arrived at Christmas none too soon. The triplets were all about Santa’s visit and were none too pleased that they had to wait for us before they could open any gifts.
We stopped at the gas station on our way home and filled up with gas, as well as snagged a beautiful poinsettia for each of our moms. Why they were at a gas station was beyond me, but they were gorgeous, and it was nice to not walk in empty handed.
“They are gorgeous!” His mom whisked hers away to her big picture window.
There were presents for everyone, especially the triplets. I was impressed, but not surprised she even had some for me. She had always been “that” mom, the one who made sure no one ever felt left out when she was around.
“I’m putting on some coffee. Nicholas, be a doll and help me with the mugs.”
I followed her into the kitchen and her face changed. It was subtle, but there was no denying it. My mate’s mom had concerns about our relationship and I was about to hear them. I thought I was prepared. I was wrong.
“I didn’t say all that I needed to say yesterday. Honestly, I was in too much shock. My son deserved so much better than what you gave him. I know you were a kid, but you could’ve at least written back. He poured his heart out to you.”
I froze. There was no good way out of this. Either I was evil for not writing back or my parents were evil for not giving his letters to me. In either case, there were bad guys even though neither of us were.
“I love your son. I love him so much it hurts to be away from him. I’d love for you to give me another chance—to let me prove to you that I am worthy of both his love and affection.” It was the best I could do. She was going to need to see my actions far more than she needed to hear my words. “It’s not going to be like before. I can guarantee that.”
She nodded at that. “You always were the best friend to him. That’s why it surprised me so much when you left. It hurt me too, I’m not too proud to admit that. I am glad your bag. See that you keep your promise.”
I thought that was that, that she was going to go about her coffee making and pretend this entire conversation never happened. Instead she came over and hugged me close, whispering in my ear, “I don’t know if you realize just how much Christopher loves you. It had always been you. Always. As a parent, I loved that he had that in his life. And then suddenly, he didn’t, and I hurt so much watching him hurt.”
“I’ve always loved him.” I might not have understood my love for him at the time, at least not for what it was, but looking back it was very much there. “Always.”
“Good.” And that was the end of that conversation.
“Thanks for helping my mom.” Christopher leaned against me.
“No worries. We had a good talk.” A bit one sided, but it went well. She didn’t hate me, at least not as much. I planned to confront my parents about the letters. I understood why they did it, but I still wished that I had them.
When the presents were open and the kids were all tucked away playing with their toys, we said our goodbyes and walked over to my house. It was chaos. Young wolves tended to assure that. But still, we had fun, opened more presents, and then Christopher came out to the woods with us as we all shifted together.
It had to look a little odd for a group of people to be traipsing through the woods on Christmas morning, but it was our tradition.
I loved the way he didn’t act like me shifting was gross or scary or weird. It just was a part of who I was. He didn’t even hold a grudge against the asshats who he was nearly mauled by earlier. Fine, they weren’t asshats, they were just young, but gods, that scene had taken years off my life. Fingers crossed that meant they’d learned from the situation.
We returned to my mom’s house a while later, the wolves all tired from their romp through the woods. Christopher had dressed warmly, but there was still red to his cheeks. I wanted to warm him up by the fire.
“I’m ready to go home.” He yawned, his eyes sleepy.
Home. He said he was ready to go home, and it wasn’t the place he was talking about. It was me. And he was my home too. But also… I still hadn’t shown him my present for him.
I waited until we got back to the motel. I drove, my mate sleepy, but once the cool air hit him when we got out of the car, he was wide awake again. He shivered and once we were inside our room, he pulled me against him. He knew my warmth would heat him up.
“I got you a present.” Two, actually, but one was old and sort of more for me.
“You are my present.” He yanked me deeper into the motel room with him. “But if you’re talking about your knot, I’ll gladly take a second gift.”
“Patience, omega mine. Patience.” We sat on the edge of the bed and I handed him the gift bag I had gotten from my mom to “wrap” his gift in; his main present was in the card, which I suggested he open first.
Christopher pulled the folded piece of paper from the gift bag and unfolded it slowly. The sound of the paper echoed in the near silent room and it was as if he moved at a turtle’s pace.
“What is that I’m looking at?” he asked. “Congratulation, Nicholas. Your offer has been accepted and the status of the property has been moving to pending.” He stopped reading to look at me, eyes wide. “Is this the…”
“Yes,” I said.
“How did you do this so fast?”
