Chapter 27
Alex
The next few days drifted by in a strange, quiet blur.
Dad was still working, his step a little lighter now that the fridge was full and the house felt secure.
To my genuine surprise, Carrie actually went home for a night.
She told me she had "administrative loose ends" to tie up at the university, but promised she’d be back by Christmas Eve.
She didn’t feel far away, though. Her presence lingered in every room.
It was in the gourmet coffee I brewed in the morning, the clear picture on Mum’s TV, and the constant buzz of my phone.
She checked in with clinical precision—messages during the day and low, private phone calls before bed that left me flushed and restless.
Fuck, something about how her voice got so low as she wished me good night made me fucking twitch.
I was glad for the space, or at least I told myself I was.
But by the second night, I found myself staring up at my bedroom ceiling, the silence of the house feeling heavy and wrong.
Seriously, what the fuck? My mind whirred, trying to process the impossibility of the last week.
Between hospital vigils and emotional breakdowns, I’d somehow managed to submit all my final coursework on time.
Carrie had been a steel-trap focus for me, sitting at my small desk and marking my progress with a sharp eye while I worked, refusing to let me succumb to the stress. Thank fuck.
Now, it was finally Christmas Eve. Carrie was coming back today—not just to see me, but to spend the holiday with my family.
The thought was fucking insane. We’d gone from a first date to being so tightly intertwined that I couldn’t remember where my life started and hers ended.
And fuck, I craved her. I craved the weight of her hand on my neck and the way she made the world feel small and manageable.
My phone buzzed on the duvet, cutting through my thoughts. It was Mia. We’d been texting constantly; she was fucking terrified when I called out of work, and she’d been offering to bring over food and help with Mum every hour since.
I took a deep breath, trying to find my normal voice, and swiped to answer.
"Hey, Mia," I said, sitting up and leaning against the headboard.
"Alex! Thank fuck," Mia’s voice crackled through the line, sounding breathless and worried. "I’ve been waiting for you to pick up. How is your mum? How are you? I was going to drop by with some of those pastries you like, but I didn't want to intrude if... you know... she was there."
I could practically hear the curiosity dripping off her tongue.
Mia knew Dr. Carter’s need to own every fucking room she was in, and as much as her and Mia sort of get on now, she knew Mia turning up to help would probably get her a few looks.
She didn't know about the plasma TVs, the threats to buy the street, or the fact that I’d spent the last few nights being called princess by the most formidable woman in the city.
"Mum's doing much better, Mia. Honestly, it’s a fucking miracle," I said, my heart giving a little skip at the word. "And I'm... I'm okay. A bit overwhelmed, but okay."
"And Dr. Vixen?" Mia asked, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Is she still around, or was that just a 'hero for a day' kind of thing?"
I chuckled. “Well, she’s bought us two fucking plasmas, stocked the kitchen like a Michelin-star restaurant, and keeps threatening to buy the entire street if I complain any more.”
“Fuck me!” Mia laughed, her voice skyrocketing with excitement. "I knew she was going to be a sugar mama!"
"Shut up," I groaned.
"Absolutely not. You are living the dream, Lex. Shit, are you going to stop working? Is the woman going to start paying you for going down on her whenever she gives you a look?"
“Fucking hell, Mia,” I laughed, finally feeling lighter. I joked back, "You know she doesn’t need to pay me for that."
“True. You may as well get paid for something you love, Lex.
Seriously though, I need updates. I'm living vicariously through you.
Does she just buy things on a whim? What if you asked for something mental, would she just do it?
Oh—and I need to know what she's like in bed. Oh- fuck, has she strapped you down and fucked you with a dildo yet?”
“Jesus fuck, Mia.” I rubbed my face, blushing furiously as the exact images she described flashed through my brain. No, we fucking hadn’t done anything like that. In fact, we haven't had sex for weeks while my entire world fucking combusted around me.
Mia’s laugh was loud and unapologetic through the speaker. "Oh, come on, Lex. Think about it. With that whole 'command and control' vibe she has? You should try calling her 'Mommy.' I bet she'd fucking love it.”
"Mia, stop," I snapped, but my voice lacked any real bite.
The idea made my stomach do a slow, dizzying roll.
I’d never been into that scene—it felt a bit too fucking American, and 'Mummy' was somehow even worse—but the mental image of whispering that word against Dr. Carter’s skin while she had me pinned to the bed made me instinctively cross my legs.
The friction sent a sharp, unwanted tingle straight to my core. Fuck, what was going on?
"You're fucking disgusting," I muttered, though my heart was suddenly racing.
"I'm a genius, you mean," Mia retorted, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Just imagine the look on her face. She’d probably buy you a fucking car just for saying it."
"I am hanging up now," I said, desperately trying to scramble back to some kind of moral high ground. "And I don't even feel bad about leaving you to run the Christmas Eve shift on your own anymore. You deserve the holiday rush for being a total fucking arsehole."
"Hey! That’s low, even for you," Mia squawked, but she was still giggling. "Fine, go be a pampered princess. Just don't forget us little people when you're living in your mansion."
"Goodbye, Mia."
I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the bed, staring at it like it was a live fucking grenade.
Mommy. The word echoed in my head, feeling illicit and heavy.
I could practically hear Carrie’s low, dark hum in response, imagining her fingers tightening in my hair as she rewarded me for the sheer audacity of it. Oh, fuck me.
I was so lost in the "what if" that I didn't hear the front door open downstairs. I didn't hear the familiar, confident click of boots on the stairs.
I only realised I was not fucking alone when the door to my room pushed open and Carrie stood there, looking effortlessly powerful in a tailored wool coat, her eyes immediately locking onto mine.
"You look flushed, Alex," she said, her voice as smooth as expensive bourbon. She closed the door behind her with a soft, final click. "I hope you haven't been getting yourself worked up while I was away."
I sat up quickly, tugging the hem of my oversized t-shirt down over my joggers, which had ridden up a little too high for my current fucking state of mind. I shook my head, offering her a shaky smirk. "Absolutely not. I was just... talking to Mia."
Carrie didn't look convinced, but she didn't press. Instead, she walked over to the bed, the scent of the winter air still clinging to her coat. She leaned down and captured my lips in a kiss that was both a greeting and a claim. "I missed you," she murmured against my mouth.
I leaned into her, my hands finding her waist. "I missed you too. Did you get everything done that you needed to?"
Carrie nodded, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "The university is sorted, and the few businesses I represent are confident in their finances over the holidays. I’ve threatened them all with a very public downfall if they dare disturb me for the next few days."
I smirked, the heat from earlier still humming in my veins. "You’re so powerful, Dr. Carter."
She let out a low hum, her teeth grazing my bottom lip as she nibbled on it. "Do you like it when I’m powerful, darling?"
My body answered for her with a violent fucking shiver, my eyes fluttering shut as I melted into her.
I was about to pull her down onto the bed when the heavy thud of footsteps from across the landing broke the spell.
I heard my dad’s voice, low and encouraging, as he helped Mum navigate the stairs for the first time today.
Carrie pulled back just enough to hold my face firmly in her hands, her eyes searching mine. "It is only eleven in the morning," she said, her tone playful yet commanding. "What exactly are the Christmas festivities I’m in for today?"
"Well," I rasped, trying to get my breathing back under fucking control. "Usually, it’s a pancake brunch as a treat, and then mostly just drinking, snacking, and watching Christmas films until we pass out."
Carrie kissed me again, a soft, lingering touch. "That sounds perfect. And just in time for my first present to arrive."
As if on cue, the doorbell echoed through the house. I looked at her, my eyes narrowing with suspicion. Oh, for fuck's sake.
Carrie grinned—a rare, wicked expression that told me exactly what was happening. "I was perfectly serious about that sofa, Alex.”
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, the scene was pure, organised fucking chaos.
The front door was propped wide open, and our old, sagging sofa—the one I’d spent half my fucking life on—was already being hoisted out the door by two men in professional uniforms. The dingy armchair that Dad practically lived in followed right behind it, disappearing into the cold December air.
Dad was standing in the middle of the hallway, looking completely fucking bewildered, his hands shoved into his pockets as he watched thirty years of furniture vanish in thirty seconds. Mum was leaning against the kitchen counter, her hand over her mouth, watching the transformation in total awe.
Then, the new arrivals began to appear.