9. Trevor

9

TREVOR

Rose tears the wrapping paper down the front of the box, exposing the word “House” to those watching her open her gift.

“You didn’t!” Rowan gasps, giving Iris a gaping smile.

Iris beams, her cheeks looking even rosier thanks to her bright red Christmas sweater. Her blue hair is up on her head in a ponytail, decorated with tinsel and some jingle bells. All out for Christmas.

She and Rowan sit on the floor while Oliver and I watch, sipping coffee to try and wake ourselves up.

Since Piper was born, Hawthorn Christmas starts bright and early at six in the morning. Now, it’s a flurry of torn wrapping paper, kids playing with new toys, exhausted adults who don’t mind missing out on sleep to witness all the joy.

“Did Auntie Iris and Uncle Trevor get you a doll house, sweetie?” Rowan coos, helping her daughter pull at the paper.

Rose smacks her mom’s hand. “I do it!”

Rowan withdraws her hands “I think I’m getting a little too excited.”

Oliver sighs. “This is too much, guys.”

“Says the guy wearing a shirt that says, ‘I’ve got big jingle bells’,” I say before swigging my coffee like it’s whisky.

Oliver grunts. “I lost a bet with Ro, and she made me wear it.”

Iris puts a hand on Rose’s back so the little girl doesn’t topple over. “What was the bet?”

Rowan folds her hands in her lap so she isn’t compelled to help Rose open the gift. “I bet Rose would be up at four with all the excitement, and Oliver bet five.”

“You’ve been up since four ?” Iris gasps. “Rose, how could you do that to your mommy and daddy?”

Oliver sighs. “This is my fifth cup of coffee.”

I laugh. “Jeez, being a godparent really is the way to go, huh?”

Rowan can’t hold back any longer and starts peeling some of the paper back out of Rose’s eyeline. “Rosie, look at this! It’s your very own dollhouse!”

Rose jumps up and down excitedly.

“You can put all your dollies in there!” Rowan tickles her waist.

“Open it, open it!”

Rowan starts picking at the closure, but there’s a lot of tape. “Uh-oh, Daddy, I think we need scissors.”

Oliver grunts, pushing himself to his feet.

I smirk. “Must be hard to stand up with such big jingle bells.”

Oliver glares at me while the girls laugh.

Rose laughs too even though she doesn’t understand.

Iris nods. “That was a good one, McCoy.”

Our eyes connect for a brief moment.

In the past, this would have been the beginning of foreplay. One little comment made by one of us, an exchanged glance. It didn’t matter if it was a silly joke or comment. We had a secret language. Like we were already married. Like we’d been married for fifty years. We were perfect for each other.

I still wish we were.

“Thanks, it was just for you, Galletto.”

Iris’s eyes widen, and I give her a playful wink.

I’d like to punch myself in the face for the wink. I don’t know why I did that.

Oliver returns, and we are able to extract the humungous dollhouse from the box.

“This is going to be a pain in the ass to get home,” Oliver grumbles.

Rowan elbows him in the ribs.

He smiles at her, rubbing the spot she poked him.

I want that again.

I want that back .

In my pocket, Iris’s gift is threatening to burn a hole.

I want to give it to her, get it over with so that I can feel foolish and move on.

We didn’t talk about gifts. In fact, I wasn’t going to get her anything until…until I did.

We had plans for this Christmas. We were to be married at this point. We were going to start our family traditions, things we could do every year and one day introduce our kids to. We’d decorate the tree together, go ice skating, go see The Nutcracker at the ballet…

Instead, we’ve had a Christmas season of pretending we’re just having sex when I nearly told her I love her last night. Still do. Always have.

Who am I kidding? I pushed her away because of how much I love her.

Sitting here, watching Iris help our goddaughter open her Christmas gift, I only love her more.

I have two days to tell her. Today is Christmas. I can’t fuck that up for the family. So, there’s tomorrow. Then she’s leaving for Seattle the next morning.

I’m hoping my gift to her can help bridge the gap for me. Give me an opportunity to show her again what we had. What we can have again. Explain myself, why I had my head in my ass. How I’d still give her anything.

I’m not scared anymore. Not terrified she’ll leave me forever.

I’m terrified I won’t get a chance to ask her to stay.

“You good?”

“Huh?” My attention snaps to Iris.

Iris frowns. “You’re kinda staring off into space.”

I’m thinking about you .

I lift my coffee cup. “Need more caffeine.”

Iris smiles and shakes her head.

Is that fondness in the corners of her eyes?

I open my mouth, ready to ask if I can get her for a moment alone. Of course, that’s the exact moment Ash walks into the living room and announces Christmas brunch is ready.

I shoot to my feet. “Great! I’m starving.”

I’m first into the dining room, first to fill my plate, first to stuff my face, and determined to be the last to finish. If I’m preoccupied with my food, then I don’t have an opportunity to wonder if I should ask Iris for a moment alone.

Plus, I have to be even more preoccupied with my food than usual because Iris has been sat across from me instead of at a complete diagonal.

Iris giggles. “You’re housing that French toast, Trev.”

I finish up my bite and eye her across the table.

Everything around us is chaos, but between us everything is still.

“It’s Christmas, calories don’t count.”

Iris smiles. “Even after you gorged yourself last night?”

I have to veil my shock at her referencing our night together. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Iris sips her Christmas mimosa, a glint in her eye as she stares me down.

My chest puffs with pride.

I can do this. She’s flirting with me. She’s open. Not just her legs but her mind. Maybe her heart too.

Maybe?

God, I don’t want to screw this up. I need this gift to work. It’s going to be my boon.

Pulling her away from brunch isn’t possible and after brunch, everyone splays out for playtime, naps, and sports on television.

Iris sets up the dollhouse with Rose while Rowan takes a nap, and Oliver and I watch the game with the other guys.

But I watch her. The whole time I’m pretending to watch football, I keep my eyes on her.

My beautiful Iris.

How is it possible that a week ago I was still harboring all this hate for her when all it took was a handful of days to remind me what I threw away?

It’s my fault. I wasn’t strong enough. Wasn’t safe enough.

If I had been either, we’d still be together. Hell, we’d be married. I could have followed her to Seattle, found a fund there to work for. We could come back to Chicago for holidays. We’d still have a family in the Hawthorns, still have best friends in Oliver and Rowan, Rose would still be our godchild.

Iris is my home. Not Chicago, not the Hawthorns.

Iris.

How could I be so stupid?

Oliver leans over to me. “Go talk to her.”

“What? No, I’m watching the game, man.” I refocus my eyes on the television.

“Liar.”

I glare at Oliver.

He just smiles smugly.

“You know too much.”

“I know you’re not over her.”

“Oh, please.”

“And I know you two were fucking last night at the–”

I shoot up. “How do you know that ?”

“Bro, I’m literally the chief security officer at Hawthorn. It’s my job to know what’s going on, including when my friends sneak off to hatefuck.”

I huff. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Would you rather have me interrupting you two last night?”

I watch a fumble on the television. Relatable considering how I fumbled Iris.

He nods. “Did you have fun at least?”

“No comment.”

“Damn, that good, huh?”

“That’s my girlf– ex -girlfriend you’re talking about.” I keep my volume low enough so no one overhears us.

“Holy shit, you almost called her your girlfriend.”

I cross my arms and sink down into the couch, wishing I had a baseball cap to pull over my eyes. “Slip of the tongue.”

“Not your only slip of the tongue lately.”

“ Dude .”

“Don’t dude me! You’re the one lying to yourself.”

I watch his gaze cross the family room to where Rose is planted on Iris’s lap, walking a doll down the stairs of the house. “You both are.”

I rub a hand over my face, trying to resist looking at Iris and Rose again, but dammit, my eyes are like magnets to her.

One more look , I tell myself for the thousandth time.

That look does it. Pushes me over the edge.

Because Rose is totally engrossed in her new toys now, paying not a single lick of attention to Iris. But Iris is watching Rose with a look I’ve seen on all the Hawthorns face plenty of times when they look at their children.

Hell, I’ve probably had that look on my face. The sweet smile and the heavy eyes, a wistfulness.

It’s a bittersweet look, filled with the knowledge that time moves too quickly and we all get older and life is too short.

Life is too damn short.

I find myself getting to my feet and crossing the room to join Iris and Rose.

“Hey, can I–” I sit down heavily on the ground, trying to draw my knees into a crisscross position. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Iris looks at me, gray eyes wide. “Me?”

I smile. “Yeah, you. I promise it’s not serious, it’ll be quick.”

Iris steals a look at Rose.

She’s distracted, no way she’ll overhear something if things go sideways, though I don’t anticipate this conversation will go too poorly. Might break my heart, but it’s not going to be a fight or a flirtation.

“What’s up, Trevor?”

“I…um…” I reach into my pocket and extract the thin envelope that’s been crunched up throughout the morning. “I got you something.”

Iris leans away. “Oh god, Trevor, I didn’t get you anything, I didn’t think we–”

“Relax, I didn’t expect you too.” I hold out the envelope toward her. “Merry Christmas, Ris.”

Iris blinks at the envelope, then me. The corners of her mouth turn up, a weak, but present smile. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Trevor.”

“Open it.”

Iris lifts the closure on the envelope and withdraws two tickets. It takes her a moment to realize what they’re for. “The ballet? You got me tickets to the ballet?”

“Box seats.” I shrug. “I know we always said we’d go this year, and…”

Iris’s expression becomes unreadable to me. Clouds obscuring the sun.

I’m not sure if they’ll bring rain.

“And since you’re headed out of town, I thought–” I clear my throat. “You don’t have to take me, obviously.”

Of course she does, dummy, that was the whole point. It’s supposed to be a fucking date .

“I just wanted to give you the Christmas that I promised this year.”

Iris shakes her head. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Trevor. This is such a nice gift.”

“You’re welcome.” I rub the fronts of my knees. I guess I should go, but I want to know if she’ll take me or if that was a stupid hope. “You know, you could…take Rowan, or I guess Rose might enjoy it. Or–”

“Trevor, don’t be silly. We’ll go together.”

Everything in me lifts. Relief.

I have one more chance. One more night with her. Now I can really enjoy Christmas.

I could kiss her. In fact, I will. I lean in, waiting for her to push me away.

But it’s not Iris’s hand that stops me but one of the kids screaming at the top of their lungs, “It’s snowing!”

Chaos erupts, children running to go outside, parents trying to wrangle them into at least their coats and boots, some of them breaking free through the sliding glass doors into the yard.

Iris and I leap to our feet to try and help, but it’s a lost cause. It’s a madhouse.

And it’s sort of beautiful.

Oliver comes over and scoops Rose up. “Come on, Mommy will kill me if you go outside without at least a sweater, baby girl.”

Iris follows the stampede outside, and I follow Iris, not minding that I don’t have a coat or even shoes on. If I get a cold, so be it. The cold will go away eventually. And this moment is fleeting. I don’t want to lose it.

The cold air hits my face and rushes into all my bones, but I don’t care. Not at all.

Outside, the kids are running around, spinning in circles under the snow, some with only boots others with one arm in their coats. Chunky white flakes float down from the sky, creating a white cast on the ground.

“We haven’t had a white Christmas in a long time.” I stare up at the snow filled sky.

“No, we haven’t.”

We stand side by side in a bubble of peace.

I clear my throat. “So, tomorrow. I’ll pick you up.”

Iris smiles. “Okay.”

“And we’ll go to dinner beforehand.”

Her smile broadens. “On me.”

“No, definitely not.” I chuckle.

“You have to let me give you something in return.”

“You’ve invited me to come to the ballet with you, that’s more…”

Iris’s hand brushes up against mine. At first, I think it’s an accident, but then her palm slips into mine, and I realize it’s not.

Our fingers intertwine.

I steal a glance at her, afraid if I look she might disappear. Instead, I’m met with her warm smile. Zaps away all the cold.

White flakes pepper her blue hair and her long eyelashes.

She stands up on her tiptoes and brushes her lips against my cheek. A gentle kiss out in the open for anyone to see.

“Merry Christmas, Trevor,” she whispers.

“Merry Christmas, Iris.”

Iris remains close to me, her hand in mine.

For a moment, it feels like nothing has changed. I can pretend we’re married and we’re sharing our first Christmas together as man and wife. We’re going to the ballet tomorrow. We’re in love. We never hurt each other.

I hold onto that Christmas magic the rest of the day.