A Bleus Christmas (The Bleus #2)

Chapter 1

ONE

The mirror was never kind, but it was always honest. It didn’t soften the truth or lie to spare me.

It stared back, showing me everything I had spent the last thirty minutes trying to ignore.

I stood in front of it wearing the deep green satin dress Lucky bought me last Christmas, tugging at the fabric for the fourth time, hoping it would suddenly fall right. It didn’t.

Three months had passed since I gave birth to our daughter, and I didn’t recognize the woman looking back at me.

My body had changed. My hips had spread, my thighs had thickened, my arms looked fuller, and my stomach…

it wasn’t flat anymore. It was soft. Lived-in.

A reminder that I had carried life, but also a weight I couldn’t shake.

The baby glow people always talked about had faded weeks ago, and now all I saw was exhaustion and insecurity painted across my reflection.

I had done everything I could to feel like myself again.

My silk press was fresh, my lashes were done just right, and my gloss shimmered under the soft light of the vanity.

I even wore the necklace Lucky gave me the night he asked me to be his wife.

Still, none of it felt like enough. Not enough to walk out of this room and ask the man I loved the question that had been sitting heavy in my chest for days.

Did he still see me?

Not the mother of his children. Not the woman cleaning up behind a two-year-old and nursing a newborn with one eye open.

Not the girl trying to keep the house perfect for the holidays.

But me. The woman he used to pull close just to smell her perfume.

The one he used to leave love notes for on the bathroom mirror.

The version of myself I hadn’t seen in months.

I sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded in my lap, trying to keep my eyes from watering.

Christmas was a week away and our house was the one hosting this year.

Everyone was coming. His family and mine along with neighbors who called us family, and people who just needed a place to feel love.

The whole house had been wrapped in cinnamon and soul, but I could barely wrap my head around feeling like I belonged in my own skin.

Lucky had been nothing but patient. He hadn’t rushed me or made me feel less than.

If anything, he touched me like I was still magic, but my mind wouldn’t let me settle into the softness he gave me.

I needed to hear it from his lips, in his voice, the same way he used to say it when we were laid up in the dark, tangled in the sheets.

The door creaked gently, and I heard his voice float in. “Jream... you ready, mama?”

I froze.

I could have faked it. I could have said yes and walked out with a forced smile, pretending I had it all together, but I didn’t want to fake anything with him.

I looked at myself one last time, placed a hand over my belly, and whispered, “Be brave.”

Then I stood up, straightened my dress, and opened the door.

He was leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed, gold glinting low on his wrist, head tilted like he’d been waiting on me all his life.

Lucky looked up the moment I stepped out, and just like that, the air shifted.

His eyes scanned me slowly, starting from my heels, trailing up my thighs, pausing at my waist, then settling on my face like he had to take a breath before speaking.

He didn’t.

Instead, he pushed off the wall, took two steps forward, and cupped my face in both hands. His thumbs grazed my cheeks like he was checking to see if I was real.

“Damn,” he breathed out. “You tryna take me out before we even leave the house?”

I tried to laugh, but it caught in my throat. I could feel the sting behind my lashes creeping up again, that ugly little ache that had been sitting on my chest all day. I blinked fast. Smiled through it.

“You like it?” My voice cracked a little. “The dress, I mean.”

He leaned in, kissed the corner of my mouth like he was sealing something shut, then pulled back just enough to look me dead in the face.

“No,” he said, voice low. “I don’t like it.”

My heart dropped.

“I love it,” he finished, eyes locked on mine. “And I love you in it, but I’d love you without it too. I’d love you in sweats, in my hoodie, with your bonnet on, with baby spit-up on your shoulder. I’d love you with ten more pounds or ten less. You feel me?”

I nodded, but my lips were trembling. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath.

He kissed me again, this time right in the center of my forehead, then pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me tight.

“You still her, baby,” he whispered into my hair. “You been her. You gon’ always be her. My favorite girl. Nothin’ has changed but the way you see you aand I’ma spend the rest of my life remindin’ you who the fuck you are.”

That was it. The dam broke.

I clung to him, breathing him in, tears sliding down my cheeks, mascara catching in the crook of his shirt. All the pressure I’d been feeling, all the moments I tried to smile through, it poured out in that quiet hallway. And he just held me through it.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I just… I’ve been feeling so?—”

“You don’t owe me no apology,” he said, pulling back just enough to tilt my chin up. “You gave me life. Twice. You carried my babies. You still healing. And you still the baddest woman I ever laid eyes on.”

I exhaled deep.

“Now go grab your purse,” he smiled, giving my ass a little pat. “We got a date, and you look too damn good to be cryin’. I got somethin’ special planned tonight.”

I didn’t know where we were going. I didn’t care. In that moment, I felt seen. Heard. Loved loud in a world that always tried to quiet me.

I took a moment to pull myself together once he let me go. My cheeks were still warm from crying, but my heart felt lighter, like his words had peeled off a layer of doubt I didn’t even know I was still wearing.

I ducked into the bathroom, took a breath, and touched up my makeup. A little gloss, a quick curl at the ends of my lashes, some soft perfume behind the ears. I smoothed my hands down my hips and whispered to the woman in the mirror, “You still her.”

And I meant it this time.

When I stepped back out, Lucky was waiting by the door with my coat in one hand and a bouquet of deep red roses in the other.

“Got these while you were gettin’ yourself together,” he said, dimples flashing, “figured they could match the way I’m lookin’ at you all night.”

I rolled my eyes, but it was useless. He had me blushing. He always did.

We slid into his car, music low, just the two of us with the city glowing outside the windows. The kids were with his brother for the night, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t just somebody’s mama. I was his and he was mine.

I didn’t ask where we were going. I let him have this and I let myself enjoy it.

When we pulled up, I could already see the shimmer of lights from the inside. He parked, came around to open my door like the gentleman he always was, and laced our fingers together as we walked up.

“Okay,” I said with a little grin. “Are you gonna tell me what this is now, or?—”

But the doors opened before I could finish.

It was like walking into a dream. We were inside this massive glass space with a full winter garden glowing from every corner.

Candles lined the walkway; soft white lights wrapped around bare trees like stars that had come down to rest for a while.

There was snow on the ground, real or fake, I didn’t know but it was glistening like sugar under the soft lighting.

A slow, jazzy Christmas song played in the background.

I turned to look at him, mouth slightly parted. “Lucky…”

He didn’t say anything. Just kept walking me forward, arm wrapped around my waist, holding me like he always did, like I was precious. Like I was his.

And then I saw it.

At the far end of the space, beneath a delicate canopy of white drapes and string lights, there was a candlelit dinner set up just for two. Champagne already chilled. A covered tray waiting. Our song from the proposal playing faintly under the speakers.

I looked at him again, eyes glossy.

“You brought me here…” I whispered.

“Told you I had somethin’ special planned,” he murmured against my temple. “Just wanted to remind you what forever looks like.”

We didn’t sit right away. He pulled me into a slow dance right there on the frosted grass, my heels clicking lightly against the stone path. His hands stayed locked behind my back, mine around his neck, and for a while we just swayed, hearts beating close, bodies moving like we were one.

I didn’t need to ask if he still saw me. He was showing me and I didn’t want this night to end.