Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Willa
S haring Christmas morning with my husband of convenience may have been the most surreal experience of my life.
Our tree, a little wonky and crooked, was decorated with a mix of things Cole had bought at the gas station and the ornaments we’d made during our hot chocolate and Christmas movie marathon last week.
It looked ridiculous, but also full of cheer. Staring at it made me happy. Purchasing my own Christmas tree was one rung on the adulthood ladder I had not climbed until now. Not when I’d always lived in tiny apartments and was usually working on Christmas.
I’d mentioned it offhandedly to Cole a week or so ago, and that night, I’d come home from work to a small, scrawny tree standing in front of the windows in the living room. He’d already set it up in a proper stand and had even bought the vitamins to keep the needles from dropping.
It was the kind of thing he did. His actions were typically silent and sweet, and he was cognizant of never crossing the line. Since our chat after the kiss that will never again be mentioned, he’d been a perfect gentleman, even keeping his yoga mat far away from me during our morning routine.
We were crushing this fake marriage. We’d gone to my parents’ for Christmas Eve, where my mother had made a feast and my dad and I had played chess while Cole helped with the dishes and sang along to Christmas carols with my mom. He’d even knitted matching scarves for them, which they’d worn around the house with pride.
It was so silly, but the way he so easily fit into our little family dynamic meant a lot to me. He asked questions, complimented my mom’s cooking, and was genuinely thankful for the small gifts my parents had placed under the tree for him. He seemed to genuinely enjoy them.
I’d always imagined waking up on Christmas morning and rolling over to snuggle my husband. Never had I pictured us in separate beds or the bout of anxiety that hit me while I brushed my teeth.
Despite the routines we’d fallen into, suddenly, I was devolving into a tween girl, questioning whether I should have showered before coming downstairs. Or maybe curled my hair. God, why was I such a train wreck.
And then I saw him.
That motherfucker.
He was wearing plaid pajama bottoms slung low on his hips and a motherfucking Santa hat. And no damn shirt.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, a smile spreading across this face. Even though his scruff was quickly becoming a full beard, I could still make out the dimples beneath it, and the sight made my heart race.
That bastard. There went every rational thought in my head.
“We said no gifts,” I protested several minutes later as I pulled a gorgeous green hat onto my head. It was soft and warm and matched the scarf he had made me perfectly. The frequent handmade gifts were making me feel things. And I couldn’t afford that at the moment..
“Do you even know who you married?” he teased, his dark eyes dancing. “I’ve never met a rule I didn’t want to break.”
Rolling my eyes playfully, I sipped my coffee. “Since you broke the rules first, I guess I’ll give you your present.”
Straightening, he clapped. “I knew I wasn’t the only one.”
I was already regretting mentioning it. What if he was insulted by what I’d chosen?
“You may hate it,” I hedged, grabbing the folder out of my work bag. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I shuffled across the room and held out a manilla envelope. “And I’m not trying to pressure you.”
He took the envelope and carefully pulled out the glossy brochures.
Brows furrowed, he peered up at me. “Public policy and administration?”
I nodded. “I made some calls to friends who work in the UMaine system. It’s an excellent program, and given the incredible work you’ve done in town, I thought it would be a great fit.”
His eyes widened as he flipped through the pages. I’d taken the liberty of requesting information about several degree programs. He’d mentioned wanting to finish his education more than once, but he’d never been able to articulate a specific direction.
Was I overstepping? Probably. Especially in light of the emotional distance I was trying to maintain. But he was so smart and capable, and I needed him to see that.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “I’ve been thinking about it for so long. I feel stuck. Who goes back to school at thirty? I left college for the NHL draft, and to go back a failure…?” He ducked his head.
“You’re not going back a failure. And lots of people have to take time off and come back. I think it’s brave.”
“I don’t want to waste my time or my money,” he muttered to his lap. “I don’t want to only check a box. I want to really learn things, develop a career path. Find meaning in my life and make a difference.”
My heart clenched at the uncertainty in his tone. God. Why couldn’t he see how incredible he was? “Then you are the perfect candidate. When you’re ready, you will crush it.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced, almost as if he was in pain. “Thank you,” he said finally. “This means a lot.”
I smiled, though a tinge of unease trickled through me. Had I come off like some kind of educational snob? God, I hoped not. I didn’t care about degrees. I wanted to help him find the motivation to take the next step.
He was physically imposing, which many conflated with confidence, but living with Cole every day had shown me that was not the case. He worried and obsessed, and he second-guessed and constantly talked negatively about himself.
If I could do one thing right as a wife, I hoped it would be helping him find his confidence.
“Okay. Get up,” he said suddenly. “I have one more thing for you.”
“No,” I protested, clasping my hands in my lap. “You already made me something.”
“It’s nothing,” he said as he hauled himself off the couch. “It isn’t even a real gift. Just put your coat on. I promise.”
I blinked at him. What? I was still wearing pajamas. But he was already putting his puffy jacket on over his bare chest. “It’ll only take a minute.”
Though I grumbled, I obeyed, slipping my feet into my boots and shrugging on my coat.
At least the sun was shining. The trees were covered in a layer of snow, glistening in the bright light of day. The air was crisp, which helped to calm my racing nerves.
Nerves that hadn’t settled in weeks. Day in and day out, I was living with this man, slowly getting to know him. And yet, despite our promises of radical honesty, so much had gone unsaid and unsettled.
He led the way down the path toward the lake. In the daylight, it was easy to navigate, and the bare trees allowed the glistening blue water to peek through the landscape.
“Why are we headed down here?” I asked, shivering as a gust of wind hit me.
He turned and raised one eyebrow, which, in his Santa hat, was especially ridiculous, but didn’t answer my question.
When we hit the clearing, an object on the rocky ledge came into view.
It was a large bucket. Or a small trash can. With a lid.
“Take a look,” Cole said as we approached it.
As I stepped up to it, a pretty sign in the ground next to it caught my eye. It read: Willa’s Rage Rocks .
I let out a laugh, and a zap of delight coursed through me.
“Open it.”
Grinning at him, I took the lid off and peered inside. The entire thing was filled with rocks the perfect size to toss into the lake.
“I collected them for you. This way, you don’t have to hunt around in the dark for good ones. You can rage out more conveniently and efficiently.”
My stomach flipped at the gesture. Seriously? This had to have taken him hours. And it was just so goddamn sweet. I did spend a lot of time hunting for rocks, and yes, I’d tripped on occasion. Not that he knew that. My heart stuttered in my chest. These were only rocks, but it felt like so much more.
“Come on. You know you wanna.”
With my lip caught between my teeth, I removed one the size of a softball and handed it to him. Then I chose another for myself.
“Let ’er rip,” I said, hurling it as far as I could and watching with satisfaction as it plunk ed into the lake, making a respectable splash.
He threw his rock, managing twice the distance I had. Then we stood side by side in silence, taking in the beauty of the lake. I wanted to talk, to fill the quiet morning, but I had nothing to say. Instead, we existed like that for a few moments. The two of us, wearing pj’s and coats, looking out at the wild mountains and forests.
“Honesty?” he asked softly, breaking the silence.
It was a question, not a statement.
“I’m nervous about today.”
“Me too,” I admitted, turning to head back up to the cottage.
We were headed over to Finn and Adele’s house this evening. The entire Hebert family would be there, including Owen and Lila, whom we hadn’t seen since Vegas. Lila and I had texted frequently about random things since then, but we’d never talked through the incident and our feelings pertaining to it.
“And I’m worried…” He walked down the path with his head lowered and his hands stuffed into his pockets. With each step, anxiety radiated off him.
If I could, I’d ensure today went off without a hitch for him. He hadn’t spent Christmas with his family in years, and he was eager to please them all. He’d gone overboard buying gifts for his niece and nephew, of course, no doubt thinking of the poor little boy he’d once been who’d had no one. That thought alone brought tears to my eyes.
He cleared his throat, the sound bringing me back to the moment. “I’m worried that things between us have been awkward.” He looked away, thankfully, since my cheeks had instantly gone hot. “I don’t want anyone to question us or cause problems for you.”
I closed the distance between us and squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry. For making things weird and for the things I said.” I exhaled, my breath forming a white cloud in front of me. “And for not setting the ground rules early.”
He straightened. “It’s not that—”
I held up a hand. “But I care about you, and I promise to be the best damn wife at your family’s Christmas dinner today. You want mistletoe kisses? Hell yeah.”
He smirked.
“You want me to brag about you and demand to see baby photos and bore everyone to death making them feel how soft and amazing my hat is? I’m all over it.”
That earned me a snort.
“I mean it,” I said. “You’ve done so much for me. And your brothers are important to you. We’re in this together. I’ll work on my weirdness, okay? I’m still getting used to being married to a hockey god.”
“Ex-hockey god,” he corrected, holding out an elbow.
I accepted, and we walked slowly toward the house, arm in arm, stepping over tree roots and boulders along the path.
“Willa.” He stopped and turned to me. “Radical honesty?”
I nodded and smiled, giving him permission while bracing myself for what he might say.
“I think you’re my best friend.”
My heart stuttered at the simple admission, and there was no way I could form words in response.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever had one. In therapy, I’ve been working on opening myself up to pursue friendships, to be vulnerable and try to connect with people.”
Therapy? He’d never mentioned that before. Color me impressed.
“I get that it probably sounds weird. But I’m working on verbalizing my feelings. So I want you to know how grateful I am for you. The marriage might not be real, but our friendship is, and it means more to me than you can imagine.”
The lump in my throat was so big I wasn’t sure I could get oxygen to my brain. We were friends, good friends. We shared interests and supported one another. We were even working together on common goals. I’d written him off because he was Lila’s ex, because he was a jock, and because of my own baggage. But he was right. We were connected on a deeper level than I could have ever imagined.
It was so obvious. There was no way I could even second-guess what he’d told me.
“It’s a big responsibility,” I joked. “Being a wifey and a bestie.”
Tilting over, he pressed a kiss to my head. He’d never done that before, and while it wasn’t the least bit sexual, it was still incredibly intimate. “I have a feeling you’re up for the challenge.”
“Oh, I am,” I said, adding a little pep to my step. “And for the record, you’re my best friend too.”
His boyish smile almost split his face in half, causing me to take a step back. He even stood a little straighter. “That,” he said, threading his arm through mine again and leading me back to the house, “is the single best Christmas gift I’ve ever received.”