20. Sloane
Sloane
“ T onight was a good night,” Lo says as she snatches torn wrapping paper from the floor.
Brian, trash bag in hand, nods, wearing a small smile.
The expression makes me pause. It’s been so long since I saw him smile. Truly, even though we’re living in the same space, it’s been a while since we’ve spent any real time together.
I’ve never been the kind of person who has a whole lot of friends. In law school, Brian was one of the precious few I was close to, and not long after Lo came to work with us, she became another. It feels good to relax with the two of them and not feel awkward.
Because awkward is a mild descriptor for the interactions Brian and I have had over the last few months.
When I filed for divorce, Brian suddenly became my adversary, working on Sully’s side while ironing out the settlement.
Naturally, that made me push him even farther away.
Now, with a little time, I can see he was doing the best he could in a very difficult situation.
But when we first separated, I just assumed Sully would keep Cal and Brian, and I’d get Lo.
It was better that way. The last thing I wanted was to put our friends in the middle of our issues.
When the rest of them were forced to move to Jersey, and Lo was forced to work in a small office with my husband, I thought I’d lose her too.
I’m relieved that I haven’t lost any of them.
“You seeing anyone?” I ask, cupping the mug of tea Sully made for me.
Brian chuckles. “You been talking to Sully and Cal?”
I eye Lo and shake my head. “No, why?”
He waves me off. “They have it in their heads that I need to meet someone.”
“My Sully is telling you that you need a woman?” I can’t hide the shock in my voice. I can’t even picture Sully entertaining that type of conversation, let alone engaging in it.
“ Your Sully ?” Lo teases.
With a roll of my eyes, I sip my tea and study Brian. “So have you?”
Lo scoffs as she pads to the kitchen. “He’d have to actually talk to women in order to meet one, right?”
I hum in agreement, inhaling the earthy scent of the steam rising from my mug.
“I don’t have time,” Brian grouses. “Besides, how the hell would I explain this living situation to a date?”
Eyes widening, I gasp. “Oh, Brian is a naughty boy. I was just talking about going out to dinner, not—” I put my tea on the coffee table, then make a circle with one hand and poke my index finger through the middle of it. “Fucking,” I mouth.
Brian covers his eyes. “I forgot how crass you can be.”
From the kitchen, Lo calls, “This is my favorite version of her.”
I grin. “So?”
Cal’s ginormous cat wanders into the room and rubs his head against Brian’s knee.
“Oh,” he says. “Looks like the cat needs a walk.”
I laugh. “Oh, now you call him the cat and not Dammit?”
“He’s a damn good cat.” With a wink, he stands and heads for the door .
“Might want to change before you go outside,” I call.
He stumbles, then whips around, covering his ass with both hands, and backs out of the room so we can’t see his flap.
I burst into laughter. The pajamas are ridiculous. Lo joins in from where she’s wiping down the kitchen counter, and the two of us lose it completely. We’re just coming down from it when he reappears in jeans and a jacket, the cat following him out the door.
Catching my breath, I lean back against the couch and survey the enormous Christmas tree. It took ten strands of multicolored lights to illuminate it properly. It’s ridiculous. And kind of perfect.
As Lo returns to the living room, Sully and Cal reappear, still wearing their matching pajamas.
Lo lights up as she takes Cal in, stretching her arms dramatically. “Well, I’m super tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”
Cal mimics her. “I’m knackered.” He yawns loudly, tapping his hand against his mouth.
I roll my eyes. “We know you guys just want to get freaky. You don’t have to lie on our account.”
Beaming back at me, Lo strides toward the hallway. “Okay, see you in the morning.”
As she passes Cal, he sweeps her off her feet and throws her over his shoulder, making her squeal.
Dammit, they’re adorable.
“Are you tired?” Sully stands across the living room, the look on his face one of yearning. Or maybe that’s the Christmas tree lights making my imagination run wild.
“Not really.” I pat the cushion beside me. “Want to sit with me?”
He hums. “This was always your favorite part.”
“What was?” I ask. He’s right, but I didn’t think he’d ever noticed.
He eases onto the couch and leans back, draping an arm along the back so it’s almost around me, but not quite. Then he gives me his full attention. “The Christmas lights after everyone goes to bed.”
My eyes fall shut and I sigh. It feels good to be seen, to be understood. And this is a reminder that there was a time when he paid attention to my every move. When I wasn’t just an afterthought. “Yup.”
“Want to know my favorite part?”
Surprised by his question, I shift so I’m facing him. I truly don’t know what he likes about Christmas. Honestly, I never thought he cared for the holiday enough to have a favorite part. And he’s never gone out of his way to open up to me about this, along with so, so many other topics.
Typically, on Christmas Eve, we’d sit like this, in comfortable silence, me watching the lights, him probably falling asleep.
Tonight, though, the moment feels more profound.
“Decorating.”
I let out a surprised laugh and eye him. “No way. You hate the mess.”
He shakes his head, his eyes dancing, like he’s delighted that he’s shocked me. “I love it. It started our first year of law school. Do you remember that ridiculous tree Brian brought home?”
A giggle escapes me. “Oh my god. I forgot about the Charlie Brown tree.” I peer at the big one, grinning. “Not sure which one is worse.”
“Back then, I don’t think you could have found a tree you hated more than that one.”
“It was a twig with a Columbia scarf wrapped around it and one lone ornament that made the whole thing tip sideways. It was offensive.” I purchased a single string of lights, hoping it would help, but the tree was beyond saving.
Sully and Brian hosted a Christmas party—really, just beer and chips because we were students, even if our parents had plenty of money—and in my mind, that meant they should have a nice tree.
Sully’s lips twitch. “You put on Christmas music because you said it was a crime to decorate without it. Then you danced around our living room, laughing and smiling, lighting up my pathetically depressing life. ”
I frown, studying him more closely. I don’t remember Sully ever being anything even close to pathetically depressed.
“And remember the year we moved in together after we took the bar? That Christmas, you covered every surface in twinkling lights.”
I smile as I remember that day. “You were so worried the fire marshal would show up. You checked the outlets ten times before we left for the firm’s Christmas party.”
Sully nods, a wistful expression on his face. “I knew we’d be out late that night. Didn’t want to come home to embers.”
I bite my lip. “We danced all night.”
“That’s not all we did,” he murmurs, his fingers playing with the ends of my hair.
“Nope, after doing one too many shots at the bar, you snagged the bottle of whiskey the bartender left out, then dragged me through the hotel kitchen and into a closet so you could have your way with me.”
His eyes fall to my lips. “I needed you right then. Couldn’t wait.”
I laugh at his honesty and then give him a dose of my own. “I miss that. That feeling. When we couldn’t keep our hands off one another.” Emotion wells up inside me, making my words garbled. “When you couldn’t look away from me.” I bury my face in my shoulder, hiding from his scrutiny.
Sully palms my cheek, gently forcing my head up. “I can’t look away from you now.”
I give him a sad smile. “This is different. I’m pregnant. We’re—” I shake my head, leaning into his palm and inhaling deeply.
Even now, after all we’ve been through, he still smells like home. His touch still feels like home. Yet here we are, two people who once loved each other so much and now find it difficult to even have a full conversation.
He holds my gaze as he cradles my cheek. “We’re still us, sweetheart. You’re still the love of my life, and I’ll do anything to prove that to you.”
The truth in those words bleeds out of him. They wrap around me like a heavy blanket. Warming me. Thawing my frozen heart .
Could it be this easy? Could I choose to believe him? To trust us? To try?
“I never gave you your present,” I say, my voice barely audible. I can’t take my eyes off him.
Sully shakes his head. “Having you here, pregnant with my child, even just talking to me, is the best present you could ever give me.” He brushes his thumb against my cheek.
I let out a long sigh. God, I need so much more than that little touch. I need so much more than these small moments. And if I don’t act, I’ll never know whether I can have them.
I place my hand over his and brush my lips against his palm. “But what if I want to give you more? What if I need to give you more?”
His eyes flare, the blue of his irises igniting. “A thousand todays with you wouldn’t be enough, sweetheart.”
The familiar words settle around me. A promise. A vow.
Breath catching, I nod. “Then let’s make today something to remember.”
As I lean across the couch, my husband’s expression turns to one of surprise, but when I press my lips to his, he doesn’t hesitate to kiss me back.