Chapter 54
Chapter Fifty-Four
Adam
I wake before the sun, which is something I haven’t done in a long time since Ian sleeps later these days. But it’s Christmas morning, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t as excited as the kids.
The house is quiet, the kind of stillness that only comes in the very early hours of the morning.
I don’t move yet. I just lie here and listen—to the slow rhythm of Emmet’s breathing next to me.
His arm is draped over my waist, warm and firm, and it takes everything in me not to wake him up just so I can see him smile.
This is our first Christmas morning together. And the first time I’ve had Judy and Ian on Christmas since Leslie and I split up. It’s hard to believe that I could be so lucky.
The kids had asked what I wanted for Christmas, and I told them nothing because I was getting everything I wanted.
They probably thought I was being cheesy, but I was being so serious.
My kids and the man I love, together on the most special holiday?
I couldn’t ask for more than that. I don’t need to.
I truly have everything I want, right under this roof.
Though, I will say, it would have been nicer to have moved prior.
The house is mostly empty—boxes stacked in corners, walls bare except for a few stray hooks where photos used to hang.
We’re moving in two weeks, so I didn’t bother decorating the place like I usually would.
But I couldn’t leave it completely empty.
From here, the sparkling lights from the Christmas tree in the living room make shadows dance along my door. It’s sweet and comforting.
The tree is fake, older than both kids combined, and one leg has to be propped up by a book to stay straight—but it’s covered in lights, glittery ornaments, and those awful paper chains Judy insisted we make together.
Emmet hung a silver star on top and said it looked like it belonged in a department store window, even if it may fall over at any second.
It’s his tree, the same one he had when he was a kid, the same one so many kids shared through the years.
It was one of the gifts his father gave us for the holiday, and nothing has ever meant more.
Sentiment is important to me, especially when it comes to family.
My kids though? They care more about what’s under the tree, which is way too many presents.
Judy’s been eying them all week, asking a new question every day like I wouldn’t notice her shaking the boxes when she thought I wasn’t looking.
Ian just cares that there are dinosaurs on the wrapping paper and that Santa will bring more gifts on Christmas morning—which he did.
We told them the gifts under the tree prior were from me and Emmet, while the other stuff that comes is from Santa.
I like the idea of my kids having an imagination and believing in Santa.
I get it’s not for everyone, but this is how I’m raising my kids—and Leslie agrees of course.
The big gifts came from me and Emmet, while smaller things come from Santa.
Things like toys or pajamas. I’d hate for my kids to go to school and brag about how Santa got them a new iPad (their gift from Emmet, by the way) while other kids only got blocks or puzzles because I understand not every family can afford expensive gifts.
Emmet stirs beside me.
“Time is it?” he mumbles, voice hoarse with sleep.
“Almost six,” I whisper. “Too early?”
He groans and buries his face in my shoulder. “They’re gonna come in yelling, aren’t they?”
“I give it ten minutes.”
He chuckles. “Worth it.”
God, he’s beautiful in the morning. Hair messy, eyes still heavy with sleep, and somehow always warmer than the blankets. I don’t say it out loud, but I think about how right this feels. How long I went pretending I didn’t want this. That I didn’t miss him.
Waking up with him like this? On Christmas morning? It feels like getting everything I never let myself wish for.
And right on cue, nearly ten minutes later like I said, tiny feet pound down the hall.
“Daddy! Daddy, is it time?!” Ian’s voice is loud with excitement as he leaps onto the bed.
Judy stands behind him, clutching a stuffed animal in one arm and looking only slightly more composed than her brother. “Can we do presents now? Please?” she begs, looking from me to Emmet. He sits up and rubs his eyes.
“Morning, monkeys.”
“We’re not monkeys!” Judy shouts.
“Oh, right. Sorry. I totally forgot.” Emmet laughs.
“You did not. We don’t even look like monkeys,” Judy argues.
“Ian sure is acting like one,” I comment as I watch him jump up and down on my bed.
Judy judges him silently, but then smiles and gets on the bed too.
Emmet and I sit up, giving them more room.
“You know this is an only today thing, right?” I say.
“Yep!” they both shout.
Judy jumps for another minute before plopping down between me and Emmet.
Of course, both of them were thrilled when I explained that Emmet and I were together, because he’s amazing and they love him. He’s so good to them, and I’m glad they see it.
We started with him sleeping over for a night, then two, and then he just never left.
They’re also excited about moving, because we went by Emmet’s house and they say it’s huge.
I guess compared to this apartment it is, but compared to their mother’s?
It’s about half the size. But that just shows me how kids are so much different than adults, with different priorities.
It helps me believe everything will be okay.
“You said we could open presents as soon as the sun came up, and there’s light now.” Judy points to the window, where there is a small sliver of light peeking through the curtains.
I grin. “Barely. But okay, give us one minute to get up and brush our teeth.”
“Nooo!” Ian cries dramatically, flopping over Emmet’s legs. “We’re gonna die having to wait.”
“You’ll live,” Emmet says with a grin, tossing the covers off him and covering Ian, then tickling him. He squeals with laughter and begs for Emmet to stop, which he finally does. “Go sit by the tree. We’ll be there in a minute,” he tells the kids.
They bolt, tripping over each other in their rush to get out.
I stand and stretch, already smiling like an idiot. “They’re going to lose it.”
“You really outdid yourself,” Emmet says, walking past me to grab his shirt from the chair. “How many gifts are under that tree?”
I shrug. “I lost count.”
When we walk into the living room, the kids are already dividing the gifts into piles, debating who gets to open the biggest one first. The tree lights glow against the still-dim room, casting sparkles across the ceiling, and for a moment, I don’t care that the rest of the house is empty.
It doesn’t feel empty. Not today. Emmet wasn’t wrong when he said this apartment was filled with happiness.
I still feel it because they’re all here with me, but once we started moving things into Emmet’s house, I felt the shift.
His cold house started warming up. The color gave it life.
And once we’re all there, it’ll only get better.
“Okay!” I clap my hands, dropping onto the couch.
“No coffee?” Emmet whines.
“No!” Judy shouts. “Sit your bum on that couch and let’s open gifts.”
I laugh, then shrug. “One at a time. No chaos. We’re not cavemen, remember?”
Ian growls, holding his hands up with bent fingers like a monster.
“Okay, maybe he’s a caveman,” Emmet says. “Or a zombie.”
Ian growls again, then falls into a fit of laughter as Emmet sits beside me.
“Coffee later. Promise,” I whisper.
“And a Christmas morning blow job?” he asks softly into my ear.
“If we can sneak into the shower,” is my response.
“They have plenty of new stuff to keep them occupied.”
“Stop whispering over there!’ Judy shouts. “We have gifts to open!”
We both chuckle, but give the kids our attention and I gesture for them to get going.
Judy grins and hands me the first gift. “You go first, Daddy.”
“Me?”
“Yep. This one is from me and Ian.”
“Oh? How did you manage that?”
She just grins. “It’s a secret.”
I look at Emmet, who grins just as wide.
“Hmm, I don’t know how I feel about all these secrets.”
“Just open the gift,” Emmet says.
I tear open the paper, laughing as I pull out a framed photo of the four of us—from when we took the kids to get pumpkins.
We’re all smiling, standing close together like a family.
I’ve seen the photo before, and though it makes me smile, it’s the hand-painted frame with hearts and I love you’s that is really special.
“Thank you,” I say to Judy and Ian. “This is the best gift I’ve ever got.”
“Now yours!” Ian says, shoving a gift bag at Emmet.
I frown, just as Emmet does.
“I have no idea what that is.”
“Mommy took us to get it,” Judy says.
“She did?” I ask.
“Yep. We wanted to get Emmet something, but didn’t want to ask you because you’d tell him.”
“I would not,” I say defensively. Judy rolls her eyes.
“Open it, open it, open it!” Ian shouts.
“Okay, okay.”
Emmet opens the bag, pulls out the red tissue paper, and pulls out a light blue T-shirt. He unfolds it, and the moment he sees what’s on it, tears fill his eyes.
I’m just as shocked. And touched. And just… speechless.
“We made one for Chris too,” Judy says. “But it’s dark blue instead.”
“Yeah, cuz they’re both the number one step-dads!” Ian shouts.
Emmet lets out a shaky breath and holds out his arm for the kids. They go to him to hug him.
“This is the best gift I have ever gotten in my whole life,” he says. “Thank you so much.” I hear the emotion in his voice and it has me tearing up too.
He gets to his feet, pulls off the shirt he has on and puts this one on.
On it, are cut outs of the kids faces, both of them grinning wide. They’re big and silly and dramatic. Across the top it says #1 Step-Dad on it.
He looks at me, running his hand over it, and mouths, “Thank you.”
All I can do is smile.
Later that night, I make sure he knows that he doesn’t need to thank me for anything. I should be the one thanking him because all this time, he’s been the strong one. He’s the one who kept us together. We’re here because of him. Because he believed in us through all these years.