Chapter 25
Contentment.
It’s an odd feeling, and I’m still not sure how I should handle it. I can only hope that with time I learn how to grieve and move forward at the same time. How to be sad for my losses but hopeful and happy about my future.
I feel Dec’s hand slip into mine where it’s by my thigh, as if he’s reading my thoughts and wants me to know he’s aware. I squeeze in reply. “Happy Christmas,” I whisper, smiling as I let my head drop to the side on the pillow so I can see him.
“Happy Christmas, beautiful,” he murmurs. “Is there anything I can do?”
“You’re doing it.”
He nods, looking over me to the clock on the bedside.
“I have no idea how he’s not awake yet.” He moves across the bed slowly, crawling on top of me.
My legs spread, giving his body room between them, and the sheets moving sends the glorious scent of Dec wafting around me.
He gazes down at me. “You’re the best Christmas present.
” He kisses me, but I know Dec. He won’t push for more, his thoughtfulness not allowing it.
And yet I need him as close as I can get him.
So I reach down between our bodies and slip my hand into his boxers, and in response, his soft kiss hardens, along with his flesh in my grasp as I stroke him until he’s solid.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, pushing my T-shirt up my body until it’s bunched up around my neck, his mouth moving down my chest to my boobs.
I lose my grip of him and sink into the sheets, closing my eyes in utter bliss as he worships my nipples, trailing his tongue around each one in turn before heading south, disappearing under the sheets and inching my knickers aside.
“Oohhh,” I breathe, my back bowing as he licks me from back to front, creeping onto my stomach, working his way back up and reappearing from beneath the sheets.
He finds my mouth again and kisses me into oblivion, feeling down my body to move my knickers aside again.
He pulls himself past the waistband of his boxers and guides himself to my entrance, slipping into me on collective sighs.
“No more sleeps!”
“Fuck.” Dec rolls off me, and the shock exit makes me yelp and Dec hiss. “Motherfucker,” he breathes, his eyes wide with pain.
“No more sleeps!” The door crashes open, and I prop myself up on my elbows to find him, my discomfort forgotten when I do.
He’s frozen stock-still in the doorway, a dishevelled mess of a gorgeous little boy.
And he gasps. “Father Christmas brought me Camryn!” He comes at me like a rocket, diving on the bed and taking me out, flinging his little arms around my shoulders, smothering me with his fierce hug.
I’m going to cry.
“Thank you!” he yells in my ear, intentionally loud enough so Father Christmas can hear him all the way from the North bloody Pole.
My eardrums ring, but I can still hear Dec chuckling beside me.
Albi releases me, allowing me to breathe.
But I can’t breathe. Like his father, he takes my breath away too.
“Merry Christmas, Camryn,” he chirps, forcing me to blink back the tears.
“Merry Christmas, Albi,” I reply, my words rough and broken as I reach for his hair, pushing my fingers through the wild mess.
He dives onto Dec. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”
“Merry Christmas, little fella.”
“Aunty April! Uncle Blaine!” He shoots off the bed and runs full pelt back out. “Father Christmas has been, and he’s brought Camryn!”
I grab a pillow and pull it over my face, letting my tears soak into the material. Dec soon yanks it off, crowding me again, his face close. “I love you,” he says, as if he needs to remind me.
“I love you too,” I whisper. “But I love him more.”
“And that will never not be okay.” He gets to his knees and hoofs me up, and I land on his thighs with force, my front crashing into his. “Remember what I said yesterday,” he whispers into my neck. “Whenever you need a moment, take it. But you’ve got to give me a signal so I know.”
“What’s the signal?”
“Give me your hands,” he says, encouraging me out of his chest. He takes the index finger on each hand and pushes the tips together. “Like this.”
“Okay.”
“Are you ready?”
I nod. “I’m ready.”
“Okay.” He loops an arm around my lower back and gets us off the bed, setting me on my feet.
“Are you?” I peek down at his boxers laugh when he rearranges himself, his cheeks blowing out.
“Five a.m. is a win,” he murmurs, taking my hand and walking us out of the bedroom. We find Albi outside a closed door.
“Aunty April and Uncle Blaine’s door’s locked,” he grumbles, trying the knob again.
“The crafty fuckers,” Dec says under his breath as he bends and inspects the knob. “Albi, there’s a coin in Daddy’s drawer next to his bed. Go fetch it.”
He zooms off and returns a few moments later, holding up a two pence piece. “What ’cha doing, Daddy?” he asks as Dec slips the coin into the dial beneath the knob. “Getting us in.”
Albi claps his hands, squealing his delight, bending to mirror his daddy’s pose. “What if we wake them?” he whispers.
“That’s the point, isn’t it?”
“Will they be mad?”
“Do we care?”
“No!”
The lock clicks, and Dec turns a crafty smirk onto his boy. I’m melting bit by bit . . . and pining for Noah at the same time. “Ready?” he asks.
“Ready!”
“Okay.” Dec stands, takes Albi’s hand, and pulls me to join them with his other.
“Oh God,” I whisper, getting the drift. “I’m not sure they’ll appreciate me bombing them out of bed too.”
Dec kicks the door open, and I don’t have a moment to give it another thought. I’m being hauled toward the bed, Albi squealing his excitement. I just catch April and Blaine bolt up, their eyes wide, before we all dive onto the bed.
Grunts and shouts of surprise mix and blend before laughter drowns the room. “Seriously?” April wails, half outraged, half elated.
“Seriously,” Dec counters, as I find my way to my feet, embarrassingly out of breath.
Albi’s in hysterics as he rolls around in the duvet. “Seriously!” he yells, getting to his feet and bouncing up and down between April and Blaine. “Father Christmas came, Father Christmas came!”
“Come here, you little rascal.” Blaine grabs Albi’s pyjamas and drags him over, pinning him down and tickling him until he virtually stops breathing, squirming around on his back.
“Get up,” Dec demands.
“I’m naked,” April declares, her eyebrows high.
“Me too,” Blaine adds.
“We’re leaving,” Dec blurts, pushing me out of the room. Albi overtakes me, and Dec stops, looking back at his sister and brother-in-law. “If I don’t get morning sex, neither do you. Get up.” Then he slams the door.
“Oh my gosh,” Albi breathes, standing on the bottom step looking at the floor in the hallway, where muddy footprints make a trail.
He follows them to the lounge and stops.
“There’s no more footprints,” he says, pointing.
“Look, Daddy. They stop here.” Just before the insanely expensive cream carpet.
“Father Christmas must know we’re not allowed to wear shoes in the lounge. ”
“Clever Father Christmas,” I whisper. “When did you do this?”
“At three a.m.”
“I didn’t hear you get up.”
“Because I’m stealth like Father Christmas.”
“They ate the carrots. Oh my gosh, all the presents are here!” Albi starts jumping on the spot. “Look, Daddy. Look, Camryn!” He bombs past us, back to the lounge entrance. “Aunty April, Uncle Blaine,” he yells from the doorway. “If Daddy can’t have morning sex, neither can you! Get up!”
Dec coughs on nothing, and I throw him a wide-eyed look. “Shit.”
“Any suggestions?” he asks.
“Pretend it never happened,” I say. “Don’t bring more attention to it. And never assume he can’t hear you.”
“Noted.”
We both quickly move out of Albi’s path when he dashes back past us like a tornado, dropping to his knees in front of the tree, his little face full of astonishment.
An unavoidable gut-wrenching feeling comes over me.
It’s not something I can chase away by having a private, stern word with myself, or by physically shaking myself away from the thoughts and memories coming at me.
I look at Dec, seeing he’s spotted it, and I push the tips of my index fingers together.
He nods mildly as I turn and leave the room, meeting April and Blaine on my way out, both pulling dressing gowns on, both smiling wide when they see me.
I try with all my might to return their beams and fail miserably.
“I just need a moment,” I say as I pass them, not trying to fool them with excuses that I need the toilet or anything else.
This won’t be the last time I have to take a break.
Today’s going to be a bizarre and conflicting mix of joy and sorrow.
I just didn’t expect to need be take a timeout so soon.
“Of course,” April says. “Take as much time as you need.”
I make it into the kitchen and brace my hands on the worktop, my rigid arms holding me up.
I take some deep breaths, in and out, in and out.
Sometimes I wish I could reach into my chest and physically squeeze my heart to stop it thumping so hard.
Like now. I can hear it pounding in my ears.
I blow out my cheeks and remove my hands from the counter, standing without support.
“Coffee,” I breathe, going to the machine and staring at the endless knobs and buttons.
What do I need to do, talk to it? Abandoning the machine, I find a glass and get some water.
Constant squeals of excitement come from the lounge, oh my goshes on loop.
I hear Albi.
I see Noah.
“Jesus, Camryn,” I murmur to myself, glugging down the water, vehemently willing the shortness of breath to piss off.
Breathe. Long, deep breaths. I rub at my chest and focus on that, breathing, watching the clock on the cooker as the minutes tick by.
Five pass before I feel ready to join them again.