Epilogue - Donovan
I’ve finished work and couldn’t wait to get home. The snowfall early in New York means a white Christmas is now a certainty.
“Hello!” I’m home!” I holler as the elevator doors open into the penthouse, and I throw my coat and briefcase to the side, eager to see my wife.
My wife. A word that I now throw around to everyone and everywhere.
We had a small ceremony with our closest friends and family in Lake Placid.
Away from the prying media and the city.
In the place that has always felt like ours.
I took her for a quick honeymoon in Italy, where we sealed our fate by conceiving under the cool moonlight in March after eating our weight in fresh pasta.
I stride into the living area and pull up short, because there she is. My business shirt on, the buttons stretched, a face mask covering her pretty face, a cute pair of fluffy slippers on her feet, and her beautiful belly now front and center. The twenty-four-hour news channel blaring.
“Oh, good you’re home,” she says, pushing herself to stand, and I stride over to her, not wanting her to push herself too hard.
“Fuck, you’re cute.” My lips hit hers quickly and our tongues mesh like we didn’t just see each other this morning. But, she’s so beautiful.
“How are you feeling?” I rub her belly, feeling the now familiar push at her side. This baby is itching to get out and with only a few days left before her due date, it’s coming any moment now.
“Fine. I just saw on the news, Europe is expected to have an unbelievably warm summer this year…”
“You’re meant to be resting…” I give her a warning look, and she rolls her eyes at me. I’m surprised Bob and Vivian aren’t here; they’ve been here almost every day. Not that I mind. I’m trying to finish a deal before I take a big chunk of time off when the baby comes.
“Rest? I can’t rest. I’ve been thinking, the sprinkler shop should ship international.” Her eyes light up, and I laugh. Fuck, I love this woman.
“What does Bob think?”
Her mind is always racing, on the next deal, on the next advancement.
“Uncle Bobby indulges me, you know that.” She leans into me, and I feel her bone-weary. She acts tough, but I know she’s tired, this new baby taking it out of her already.
While her aunt and uncle haven’t left her side, her bio parents, we don’t really hear from. We haven’t seen them since that horrible Thanksgiving last year, and I’m not even sure they know were having a baby.
“I got something for them today.” I help her to sit down as I rush for my bag and pull out the ‘World’s Best Grandparents’ t-shirts and matching mug. “I got great uncle and aunt ones for Mabel and Bentley too.”
She grins, laughing as I sit beside her, wondering how I got so lucky.
After everything that happened, she has pulled through remarkably well.
She still has a few night terrors about the night Jimmy grabbed her, but for the most part she is okay.
Both Jimmy and Marcus were convicted and are serving jail time.
York Enterprises was able to swoop in and buy up most of Jasper Textiles, offering new jobs and contracts to his employees and facilitating an honest expansion into Asia that has put York Enterprises ahead of any other fashion textiles company in the world. My dad would be proud.
“Mabel will love it.”
Mabel and Bentley have been dating. The two of them getting close with the new museum, which is going so well.
We’ve had to install a ticketing system so people can move through effortlessly.
Mabel is loving interacting with the tourists and visitors alike.
Bentley tells me that Mabel’s lemon slice was what made him smitten.
Not as good as his wife’s, but almost as sweet.
“Ahhh, this baby is really pushing on my bladder today.”
I can tell she’s uncomfortable so I stand, pulling her up with me.
“Let’s dance.” I put on some slow music, a Christmas carol, knowing that movement will help ease her pain.
“Come here.”
Her belly squishes against my own as I slowly move us side to side.
“Better?” I ask her as I glide her toward the kitchen, our little mistletoe still hanging like it has all year.
“No… Ow.” She pauses, holding her belly, and my heart rate spikes.
“Jessica?” I’m confused for a beat, not knowing what to do before I feel water and look down.
“Oh my God, my water broke!” She looks at me in panic.
“Under the mistletoe!” I tell her, the words falling from me, shocked at what’s just happened.
“Are you ready to have a baby?” she asks, and I pause. Fuck, I’m about to have a baby. Get your shit together, York.
“How are you so calm when a literal flood just came out of your…” I wave my hand around her, unsure if I need to call an ambulance or Gordon.
“I've run the data. On average, seventy percent of women give birth within twenty-four hours after their water breaks,” she says, stepping to the side closet and grabbing her hospital bag like she’s popping out to do a spot of shopping, not about to go have a fucking baby. “So we need to go!”
Her words jolt me into action.
“I’m ready. Let’s go meet our boy.” I grab her hand and walk her out slowly, calling Gordon, then her aunt and uncle, ensuring everyone knows we’re on our way to the hospital.
Excitement mixed with a healthy dose of fear skirts around my body, knowing this little baby is going to be more loved and wanted than anyone could ever imagine.
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SCROOGE
What does it take to ruin Christmas? One Scrooge of a billionaire, a fake diamond ring and a deep family secret.
The holiday season has always been magical for me, especially at my toy store. Tucker Toys is a New York institution, where every twinkling light and festive melody brings joy to children and families alike.
But my landlord, the notorious grumpy billionaire Alexander Jackson, has increased the rent to a level that’s crippling. I now understand why they nickname him Scrooge, because my family is facing financial ruin and he doesn’t care. Not one bit.
But then Alexander presents me with an offer I can’t refuse: be his fake fiancée for the season, and he’ll let me keep my store. I’m skeptical, but desperate times call for desperate measures and I owe it to my family.
What starts as a business arrangement quickly becomes something more.
Alexander's touch is electric, and his kisses are dangerously real. As we navigate this pretend engagement amidst the holiday chaos and increased media scrutiny, I can’t ignore the growing feelings that blur the lines between make-believe and reality.
This Christmas was destined to destroy me, but I might find that the greatest gift isn’t saving my store, but discovering a love that feels as magical as the season itself.