Chapter 14
Fourteen
“Aunt Syd, come look at the pile of presents Santa left for us!” Beck squeals.
The boys dive into presents. Another Christmas morning, and the world keeps moving.
The deck and my wrist are now just memories pressing on the edges of my sanity this morning.
The numbness I crave, the way I survived my parents, won’t come.
Instead, my mind frays, my body a tangle of nerves.
Mason never came to our room last night, the only bright note.
Jules and Tom keep a measured eye on me.
James stands off to the side, gaze flicking to my wrist, lips set in a stern line.
It isn’t long before he approaches with two steaming mugs and hands me one.
“Thank you.” It isn’t enough, but that’s all I have, all that can come out.
Jules, across the room, catches the whole interaction. Tom whispers something that makes her smirk. I’ve never been so thankful to hear the monitor come to life, and I’m on my feet, escaping.
With snow falling outside and laughter ringing as wrapping paper flies, I settle into an armchair by the fire to nurse.
Anna is so beautiful it makes my chest ache.
I run a finger along her cheek, that pert button nose, and impossibly smooth skin.
How do I keep her wrapped in this bubble and the pains of the world outside her grasp?
A mother’s job is to protect her child, no matter the cost.
Anna's eyes grow heavy as she nurses, her grip on my finger loosening. By the time she's finished, the wrapping paper frenzy downstairs has mellowed into conversation.
“I know we usually do adult gifts later, but I wanted you to have this now.” Margaret approaches with a small box.
“That’s so sweet. Would you hold Anna so I can open it?”
“With pleasure.”
I hold my breath, unwrapping the thick paper, to reveal a small, square jewelry box. Inside lies a gold bracelet, a slim, polished plate engraved with my name.
“Motherhood changes so much,” Margaret says, meeting my eyes. “I want you to remember you are more than a mom.”
Air leaves my lungs. My fingers close around the cool metal, tracing the delicate script of my name.
“Thank you.” I wrap my arms around Margaret, resting my head on her shoulder, Anna tucked between us. A second later, another set of arms wraps around us. Jules.
Three mothers, holding one another. Women who understand the silent burdens, unseen struggles, the ache and beauty wrapped in a simple bracelet.
“Come with me.” Jules steps back, wipes my tears, and pulls me into the cold. She lights the fire pit, tosses me a blanket, and fixes me with her unyielding gaze.
“What’s going on with Mason? Why is he being such a dick? What was that last night?”
“I wish I knew.” I search through the windows for Anna, still wrapped in the warmth of her grandmother’s arms.
“Don’t do that. Don’t deflect this time.” Jules says, her voice sharper now. “He grabbed your wrist. Hard.”
“I… fuck, Jules. I wish I could say it’s adjusting to fatherhood, but it’s not. We haven’t been good in so long.”
The admission spills out, something inside my chest unhooking. My shoulders fall, breath easing for the first time in months.
Jules doesn’t blink. She meets my confession and demands even more honesty.
“Syd, we’ve been circling this conversation for over a year. The question isn’t what’s wrong, it’s—are you ready to stop pretending you’re fine?”
“Fine has been my whole life. I don’t even know what more than fine feels like.”
“What do you mean?”
Wetness slips down my cheek before I even realize a tear has escaped my eye. Instead of answering, I ask a question of my own.
“What if our hearts can only hold so much love? Maybe there’s only so much space to fill. Maybe that’s why my parents never had room for me?”
“Fuck that, Syd,” she snaps, grabbing my hand in both of hers.
“Look at Tom and me. Look at my parents. You didn’t deserve your childhood, and you sure as hell don’t deserve Mason’s bullshit now.
” She sucks in a breath, but she isn’t finished.
“You love Anna more than anything. You love me. Love is not finite. It expands and grows as you do. The people who believe there’s a limited amount of love in the world are either too scared or too selfish. ”
We both know which one I am.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and take a shaky breath. Jules waits, letting the silence stretch. My wedding band glints in the sunlight, weighing a thousand pounds.
Jules shifts, something electric sparking in her gaze.
“I find it interesting James brought you coffee this morning, like he’s done it a hundred times before.”
“It’s just a cup of coffee, Jules.”
She crosses her arms. “Mm-hmm. He left almost immediately after you gave me the monitor last night and came onto the deck two minutes after you got back from your walk.”
I look away, but she doesn’t stop.
“You think I haven’t noticed? The way he watches you, like the rest of the room disappears? Or how you light up around him? I don’t even think you realize it.” She softens, reaching for my hand. “I’m not judging. Is there something going on?”
Most people would keep their distance. No one wants to get caught in this web, especially when it involves siblings, but Jules walks into the fire and holds up a mirror.
It shouldn’t surprise me that she’s already noticed what I haven’t dared to admit.
Her loyalty is fierce to those she loves. She’ll be just as blunt with Ivy.
Before Jules can press further, the door swings open. Ivy stands in the doorframe, a broad smile lighting her face. “Mind if I join?”
“Of course,” Jules says smoothly, her eyes never leaving mine. “We were talking about relationships.”
“Perfect, I could use some advice.” Ivy drops onto a chair, gearing up for some girl talk.
I turn to stare out at the mountains, willing my eyes to dry and searching for an escape.
“How did you guys know Tom and Mason were the ones?” Ivy asks, her words landing like a detonation.
Jules shifts beside me. “Is this about James? I thought you two were just hanging out again after... some time apart?”
Time apart—
I didn’t realize they hadn’t been together since last year. Did he break up with her? Her with him? Questions I never once thought to investigate about how last Christmas affected him now flood through me. Unanswered. Unaskable.
“I mean… yeah, we did just recently reconnect. We're taking it slow, really slow, but I know he wants kids and a family. I've overheard him talking with his mom.”
Jules tilts her head. “I knew Tom was the one when I got sick and he tried to make me soup. It was awful, truly inedible. But even in my fever haze, I could see how hard he was trying. I spat it all over the blanket, and he laughed. We’re friends first. The physical part was always there, but friendship is what holds us.
He doesn’t flinch at the mess. He never makes me feel like I need to be easier to love. ”
“Or when you throw things at him,” I add dryly.
“Hey, that shoe incident was an accident! The game board, though...” She shrugs, grinning, before giving Ivy her attention. “But seriously, is James your friend?”
Ivy shifts, an uncomfortable fidget. “He’s… so mature. Different from anyone I’ve dated. And even though we don’t share a lot of the same interests, I don’t think that’s a dealbreaker.”
“No one knows what goes on inside a relationship." Jules nods slowly, taking her time to process. "But does he make you feel special? Like he’d wake up every morning and make your coffee exactly the way you prefer and be happy to do it for the rest of his life?”
Her eyes find mine on that last line, and the air catches in my chest.
“But, Syd, that’s not how it is with you and Mason, right? You’re not all over each other or doing a lot together. How did you know?” Ivy’s big blue eyes gleam in the bright morning sun.
“Oh, I’m the wrong person to ask. My marriage advice would be like getting fitness tips from someone on life support,” I say, laughing it off as a joke.
The silence that follows is heavier than I intended. Glancing toward the mountains, I watch the wind rustle through the trees. For a moment, I envy it. I long to move without hesitation, without fear, toward something.
I meet her soft, questioning eyes. “I married Mason for a million reasons. But love wasn’t one of them. I don’t think my relationship is one you should try to emulate.”
Ivy stills, her brows furrow. She’s quiet for a long moment before her voice comes out smaller than before. “What do you mean?”
“I was young and lonely. I knew the career I wanted, but I didn’t have a family to share it with.
” I pause, weighing my words. “Mason seemed a logical choice. But I didn’t realize what that meant.
The little things Jules was talking about—connection and friendship—they’re important and hard to build if they aren’t part of your foundation. ”
We all sit there, sisters and sisters-in-law, in a rare moment of honesty.
Until Ivy finally asks, “So why are you still married?”
My stomach twists and I look off, staring at the mountains once again. Some truths are harder than others. Especially when the consequences reach far beyond me. I rub the slight red welt still sitting on my wrist. A rubber band. A caress. A grab. How much it has gone through in seventy-two hours.
Jules touches Ivy’s arm. “If I’m being honest, if you have to ask whether someone’s forever… that’s your answer. Because when it’s right, it isn’t a question.”
Her eyes meet mine, meaning unmistakable. She’s not only talking to Ivy.
The door swings open again. Leo and Beck spill onto the deck, followed by a silent Tom and James. The three of us women exchange glances, still reeling from the confessions shared.
“Mom, we’re going sledding. You want to come?” The twins jump on Jules. “What about you, Aunt Syd? Aunt Ivy?”
“I don’t know if you can handle me on the hills.” I laugh, grateful for the distraction.
Ivy breaks out of her reverie, the confusion on her face replaced with a soft smile. “Thanks for the invite, guys. But I’m going to stay behind. James, maybe we could spend some time together?”
“Sorry. I promised the boys I’d go.”
His eyes find mine as he takes a seat across the fire pit. It lasts only a second, but the look is unmistakable. I might be sitting here in leggings and a Christmas sweater, but I’ve never felt more seen. More wanted.
When he said my name last night under the moonlight and touched my elbow, I knew what he wanted to ask. And there’s no denying it. I feel it, every goddamn beat of it. And maybe that’s the scariest part.
“Can we talk later?” Ivy curls a hand around his jaw, pulling his mouth to meet hers.
The breath leaves my lungs in one sharp exhale. I stand quickly, my chair skittering backward, and cross the deck with shaking legs, unable to watch his lips touch hers and still pretend none of this matters.