Chapter 24 December 24th #3
April opens the door before we make it there, the relief on her face to see me with Dec appreciated more than she’ll ever know.
“He’s still out for the count,” she says, as Dec drags my coat off my shoulders and hangs it.
A tray of champagne glasses is on the console table, each glass still fizzing, recently poured. April slides it off and offers me one.
“Christ, April,” Dec murmurs, and she shrugs.
“Take one,” she orders me. “Blaine!”
He appears from the kitchen with a roll of wrapping paper and various bits of sticky tape lining his bare forearm. “You made it,” he says, joining us and taking a flute. Dec rolls his eyes as April puts one in his hand, then mine, and takes one for herself.
“To you two,” she says, chinking each of our glasses. “We’ll leave you alone, but if you’re peckish, I’ve prepared a sharing board. Cheeses, meats, pickles, nothing too fancy.” She gives me an excited smile and hauls me in for a fierce hug, forcing me to lift my glass to avoid spilling it.
“April,” Dec breathes. “Too much.”
“Okay, I’m sorry.” She releases me and grabs her husband, dragging him back into the kitchen. “How many left?” she asks.
“Too many,” he grumbles. “Can I eat now they’re home?”
Dec sighs and takes my glass, setting it on the side table with his. “Sorry. They’re staying over. Always do on Christmas Eve.”
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah,” he muses, and a weird silence falls between us I’m sure I don’t like. Dec eventually rakes a hand through his hair, and it’s then I see his blemished knuckles.
“What’s that?” I ask, taking his hand and inspecting it.
“Oh, that.” He frowns down at is hand. “That’s the result of me punching Anthony Fryer.”
“What?” I move back.
“You left your mobile here. There were missed calls from him. Naturally, I was curious.”
“Naturally,” I murmur. “So you didn’t put two and two together and come up with the fact he was pissed off because you fucked up his deal and renegotiated with his dad in your favour?”
He shrugs, sheepish.
“I’m not working for you, by the way.”
“Thomas told me he went to your apartment and found Anthony there.”
“Oh.”
“That he suspects Anthony had something to do with the guy who you fired attacking you.”
“Oh.”
“So, yes, I paid him a visit.” He shakes his hand off. “The police arrested Phillip West yesterday and released him after they’d interviewed him. Obviously, he denied it.”
“How do you know that?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out my mobile. “They said they’d be in touch to get your statement. I want you to tell them about what happened when Anthony turned up at your apartment yesterday too. Okay?”
“Okay,” I agree easily. They’re both bullying, misogynistic bastards. I hope they never work again.
“Good.” Dec coaxes me into the lounge. “Let’s talk. I want you to know what happened after you ran out the other day.”
With Chelsea.
Oh God.
Dec sits me down on one of the huge couches and puts himself at the other end. “Why have you put so much space between us?” I ask. “In case I don’t like what I hear?”
He frowns and gets back up, coming to my end and dropping to the cushion next to me, taking my hand.
“I just want transparency between us. No surprises. She wasn’t happy when she didn’t get the reaction from me that she wanted, and knowing Chelsea as I knew her, and I can’t imagine she’s changed in the four years since she left, I expect there’ll be some backlash. ”
“Okay,” I murmur, buckling myself in.
“She wanted us back.” He looks at me for my reaction, but I have no reaction. I figured that out before I overheard her tell him she wanted to come home. “I told her that wasn’t an option, which obviously led her on to you.”
“Obviously,” I whisper, watching him, how uncomfortable he is. This isn’t boding well. It feels like he’s bracing himself to tell me something damaging.
“She kissed me.”
My back automatically pushes back into the couch, putting some space between us that I didn’t want a moment ago. “Did you kiss her back?”
“Jesus, no.” He looks horrified at the suggestion. “Never. But I know that woman. She will try to spin this and make you believe it was more than me being jumped and pushing her off. April walked in when she heard the commotion, and suffice to say, Chelsea barely made it out alive.”
I smile on the inside, mentally cheering April on.
“I’m letting my lawyer take over from here.
He’s working on a restraining order for the time being to keep her away from us, but it will be in the hands of the family court and I’m well aware they could deem it in Albi’s best interests to have contact with his biological mother.
She doesn’t want Albi. The money she took has obviously run out.
My legal team are working on digging up what they can—where she’s been, what she’s been up to. ”
“Why are we even talking about her?” I ask.
He withdraws a little. “I thought—”
“You wanted transparency.” I smile. “I believe you are a good man, Dec. An amazing father.” I take his hand and squeeze.
“Just trying to be a good boyfriend too.”
“Have you cleaned your teeth, rinsed with mouthwash, and disinfected anywhere she touched you?” He was half naked.
He smiles mildly. “Scrubbed.”
“Then I take you back.”
He laughs. “Okay, good.”
“Chelsea doesn’t matter, Dec. Albi does. What did you say to him?” He must have been a little anxious wreck.
“Blaine took him to his treehouse at the bottom of the garden, so he didn’t see or hear anything, thank God.
” He puts his face in his hands, brushing them down his stubble.
“I told him the lady who stopped by was someone who works for me, and now I’m terrified he’ll hold it against me when he’s older. I never want to lie to him, Camryn.”
“You did what you had to do in the moment. You protected him.”
He nods, but it’s not a convincing nod. He’s questioning himself.
It’s standard when you’re a parent. I don’t know how many times in Noah’s short life I beat myself up over one thing or another, questioned myself, argued with two parts of my mind that were conflicting.
We do what we can, and we hope we do it right.
I need to move this along. “What time did Albi go to bed?”
“Four.”
I laugh. “So, he’ll be up with the dawn chorus.”
“Possibly before that.” Dec shifts on the couch to face me. “He’s asked where you were non-stop.”
“Don’t make me feel guilty.”
“It’s not intended to make you feel guilty. It’s intended to show you how wanted you are. How loved.” He takes my hands. “We can never fix what’s broken. We can’t replace what you’ve lost, Camryn. But we’re here, and all we ask is that you love us as much as we love you.”
I soften, hating he needs confirmation of that. “I do.”
“Then we’ll be okay.” He leans in and captures my lips, kissing me down to my back, the cushions getting knocked off the couch. “Tell me we’ll be okay.”
I nod, fisting his hair at his temples. “We’ll be okay.”
“I love you.” His mouth moves across my cheek to my ear. “Bone deep,” he whispers, making me smile and shudder all at once.
“I hate to interrupt.” April’s voice drifts into the room, and Dec tears his wet lips from mine and scowls.
“No, you don’t.” He cranes his head to look over the back of the couch. “You said you’d leave us alone.” He helps me to sit up as she walks around the couch and places her grazing board on the coffee table, along with the bottle of champagne.
“It’s Christmas Eve,” she says haughtily. “And what do we do on Christmas Eve?”
Dec narrows an eye on her.
“We watch Love Actually!” she sings, getting the remote control and flicking the TV on.
Dec glances at me, all kinds of awkward, apologising with his eyes. “We don’t have to.”
“No.” I lean forward and pluck a wedge of Brie off the board. “I want to.”
“You do?”
I pop it in my mouth and hum, my taste buds tingling happily. “Oh, that’s so good.” I grab another chunk before I’ve finished, my stomach suddenly ravenous for food.
“Take it easy,” Dec says, alarmed. Then he scowls again. “When was the last time you ate?”
My chewing stops, giving him all the answer he needs. He reaches for the board and hands me another wedge as April loads the movie and Blaine tops everyone up with fizz. “Here we go,” she sings, flopping onto the couch.
Dec reaches for the table loaded with food and drink and drags it closer, so the occupants of both couches can reach.
Then he retrieves the pillows, plumps them, and lies down, pulling me into his front so he’s spooning me.
The lights dim, I snuggle down, and Londoners from every walk of life appear on the screen, Hugh Grant commentating over the hustle and bustle of the city I once loved.
And, like life, hope I can love again.