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I playfully roll my eyes. "Fine."
My fingers twine with his as we make our way into the kitchen. Mom is basting the turkey and Brianna is mixing the mashed potatoes.
"Brady!" Mom greets him. "So glad you could make it."
I stand back as my husband sets the red leafy plant on the counter. "Thank you so much for the invite. My mom couldn't make it. She's having a rough day."
"I'm so sorry to hear that," Mom clicks her tongue. "Does she have a lot of rough days?"
"Yeah," Brady answers as he fidgets with the straps on his backpack.
"That must be really hard on you," Mom says as she puts the turkey back in the oven.
"It takes a toll on me," he agrees.
"Well," Mom removes pinstriped oven mitts and rounds the kitchen island, "we're so glad you're here."
She picks the poinsettia up off the counter and smiles wide. "These are beautiful. Thank you."
My mouth drops open when Mom gives Brady a side hug. Maybe she's finally coming around.
"Iz," Mom snaps her fingers, trying to get my attention. "Have you shown our guest around?"
With Brianna so close by, I know she's hinting at showing him our room.
"This way," I hold my hand out.
The doorbell rings as Brady and I hurry up the stairs.
"I'll get it!" Brianna screeches and Mom lets out a hearty laugh.
"This," I open the door to my bedroom, "is our room."
Brady steps inside and drops his backpack. "Your old room. Man, we spent so much time in here."
"We did," I sigh.
He reaches for my hand. "Come here, Iz."
I lick my lips as I follow him to the edge of my bed. Brady sits, and I see the weight he's carrying on his strong shoulders. Work, his mom, and the holiday. How did I miss it all?
"What's wrong?" I ask quietly as I run my fingers through his hair.
Brady's arms wrap around my midsection. "Just been a long day."
I hold him as we stay perfectly still. I'm not sure how much time passes, but eventually, Brady's hands slide up my back and he tugs me onto his lap.
"This is your first Thompson holiday," I snake my arms around his neck.
"And your first Cohen holiday," he tilts his head to the side.
"What?"
"You just changed your name back to Thompson," Brady exhales. "You don't have to change it, you know? I'm fine if you want to keep Thompson."
I shake my head. "I've always wanted your last name. I'll always be a Thompson at heart, but I finally,finallyget to be a Cohen."
"God, I was such a fool." Guilt flashes across his beautiful face. "You really loved me."
