Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Pierce

A t breakfast the next morning, the Russells all give us the look. The look that says they know why we skipped the movie last night.

“To be really nice, we watched Die Hard last night.” Carter pats Brynn on top of her head.

She moves out of his way, and I slide her a cup of coffee.

“We’re not sure where all the screams were coming from though.” Carter fist-bumps Tre on the way to the table.

“You guys are all so funny.” Brynn shoots me an apologetic look, but I shake my head.

Tessa walks in, freshly showered and appearing as though she’s ready to go somewhere. She spots Brynn at the counter. “Hey, remember I was telling you about that marketing rundown for the bakery business?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I talked to Ava this morning, and she wants to go through with it. Can you get something together when we get back?”

Tre comes over and kisses his wife. “You look beautiful.”

“It’s what happens when you get to sleep in and take more than a minute shower. Thank you.” She kisses him back.

Brynn pushes Tre. “Take your mushy stuff somewhere else.”

“I figured you’d be more accommodating since you’ll be doing mushy stuff too now.” Tre sticks out his tongue and takes his coffee to the table, releasing a huge yawn.

“So?” Tessa asks, turning the conversation back to the marketing for her bakery.

“Yeah. For sure. And we have Pierce too. I’m sure he can help.”

Tessa looks at me. “Okay. Perfect.” She slides off the stool. “Kenzie and I are going shopping. Are you sure you don’t mind babysitting, Gwen? We can bring the kids with us.”

“And get nothing accomplished? Go have a girls’ day.” Gwen waves them off.

“Do you want to go?” I whisper to Brynn, not wanting her to turn down an invitation just to spend time with me.

“I politely declined their invitation because I’d rather shop with you.”

“Me too.” I walk around the counter and kiss her temple.

“K.I.S.S.I.N.G—”

“Carter, stop,” Abe says.

Carter acts exasperated that he’s being told no. “This is too good not to make jokes.”

“You’re not twelve,” Abe says.

Gwen and I put out the food, and everyone sits around the table, eating breakfast.

Afterward, Brynn and I go back to the villa, shower, and get ready to go shopping. We call an Uber, so the rental SUV is available for everyone else. The guys are going to the ski hill, and Gwen and Abe need a car just in case something happens.

I link my hand with Brynn’s in the back of the Uber. She smiles at me, and the feeling of having her with me like this again settles into my chest.

We’re dropped off downtown near the small shops, and the entire street is decorated in a holiday theme. It’s festive, and this is the first time since I was young that the red, white, and green decor makes me cheerful. I was always so indifferent to it after my parents passed away.

As an adult, I’d go to my aunt and uncle’s or some other distant relative’s house for Christmas dinner, where most would ask about my job, if I had a girl, and other superficial level questions.

It’s different with the Russells. They know each other so well. So much so that it’s scary at times. They’re all so invested in each other’s lives and happiness and well-being. Sure, Andrew clearly cares about me, but this is next level.

“It’s so pretty, right? Want to snap a picture together?” Brynn pulls out her phone.

“Sure.”

“Good, I have to show off the man in my life.” She leans into my chest.

I grab the phone from her hand, snapping the picture of the two of us with a winter wonderland in the background. She really amazes me. After giving me the cold shoulder and pushing me away, as soon as she decided to give me a chance, she’s all in. Her blind trust is inspiring.

“So, what are we shopping for?” she asks as I place my hand in hers to lead us down the walkway.

“I have to get your family some gifts. I didn’t have a chance to shop in New York. I went from the interview right to Andrew and Kenzie’s.”

“You don’t have to get my family anything.”

“I do. You can help me pick out some things.”

“Spending other people’s money? Sign me up.” She laughs and drags me into the first store we come across.

We end up browsing through the place. I pick up a snow globe and shake it around before setting it down.

“Don’t you love those?” Brynn picks one up and shakes it, watching the snow whirl around the slopes of Utah in the glass dome. Her smile reminds me of myself so many years ago.

It feels as if there’s a pit in my stomach.

“They’re okay,” I say, moving on to look at funny signs about skiers versus snowboarders.

“Hey…” She comes over to me, linking her arm through mine. “I feel like I’m missing something here.”

I shrug, not wanting to ruin our day by dumping another shit story at her feet. “It’s nothing. You should get one if you love them. Actually, let me.” I start to walk over to the snow globes, but she doesn’t budge.

“Pierce?”

I blow out a breath and stare at the table filled with what I thought at one point were magic globes. I turn back around to face her.

“It’s nothing.” I shake my head, but she tilts her head, clearly waiting for me to say more. “Want to walk for a minute?”

She nods. We leave the store, and once we’re a ways away from it, I turn to her.

“My mum loved snow globes and used to put them out at Christmas. We would shake them all really fast, making a game of it, and pick the one where we thought the snow would fall the fastest. If I picked right, I got a Christmas cookie.”

How can the memories of her and my dad still pierce my heart like the day I found out they died? People told me that over time my memories would turn happy, but for me, that hasn’t happened. I’m still bitter that they were taken from me.

“That’s so sweet.” She lifts on the balls of her feet and kisses me. Her nose is chilled from the weather. “What happened to them?”

Here comes the bad part, so I look at her, wanting to warn her that this will hurt. “I was allowed to keep one after they died. I picked this one my mum and I bought the Christmas before they died. It was supposed to be the North Pole. That was the year I stopped believing and told her as much. She picked it out and said that if Santa wasn’t real, then how were people able to design a globe with the North Pole inside like they did for all the other cities in the world. I played her game because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, and it seemed really important to her that I believe still.

“I used to lie in my bed at boarding school and shake it, and her words would repeat in my head. It would take me back to that moment, and I would feel her with me.”

She wraps her arms around my middle, and I kiss the top of her head. I feel as if I’m back in therapy, but I don’t want anything to come between us. In this relationship, I’m the one carrying all the baggage.

“Do you still have it?” she whispers.

“No.” My voice is hoarse.

“Why not?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Well, Tommy McDonald.”

She draws back. “Do I need to kick his ass?”

I chuckle. “No. He was a bully and an asshole and is probably in debt now after spending all his trust fund.”

“What did he do?”

I tighten my arms around her. “Smashed it.”

She gasps. “Why?”

“Because he knew it was important to me.”

“Yeah, but why did he bully you?”

“Because I didn’t fight back. Because I was quiet and reserved. He said all I did was stare at it all day.”

She sighs. “You were a boy who’d lost his parents.”

I shake my head. “To him, I was just the boy who wasn’t fawning over him and making him believe he was a big deal. He thought I was weak…”

“And?” This woman catches everything.

“I’m not proud of how I reacted.”

“Okay…” She waits for me to continue.

“After he broke it, I tackled him to the ground, jumped on top of him, and hit him over and over. I didn’t stop until people pulled me off him.”

“I understand why you did it.”

“I shouldn’t have. It didn’t solve the issue. They were going to kick me out, and I was happy about it, but instead they forced me into counseling to work on my anger. In the end, it was the best thing that could have happened because I needed to talk to someone, and my therapist got through to me. I’d probably be a royally messed up adult if it wasn’t for him.” I wipe at the tear that slips down her cheek.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t cry, it was your life, not mine.”

“Don’t ever apologize for your feelings. Own them. That is one thing therapy taught me. I still have a hard time putting it into practice, but I try to remind myself not to ignore or disregard how I feel.”

She smiles and throws herself into my arms, her cheek on my chest. “You’re amazing. I hope you know that.”

“You might not think that when I leave the toilet seat up.”

She shakes her head, giggling, and I squeeze her tightly.

“Let’s go get a coffee,” I say, and she nods.

We walk down the block, grab a coffee, and do some shopping together until I ask to separate from her for half an hour so that I can purchase her a gift. We end up having lunch after that, and the melancholy mood lifts to laughter and jokes.

She says I’m amazing, but she’s the one who allows me to be fully transparent with my feelings. That means the world to me.