25. DECEMBER — THE REED LAND, NORTH CAROLINA
DECEMBER — THE REED LAND, NORTH CAROLINA
Now playing: A Nonsense Christmas - Sabrina Carpenter // Forever and Ever, Amen - Randy Travis
The world outside the heavy iron gates protecting the Reed family land was still resetting itself, but once we crossed the property line, the air had finally changed.
We’d been home for a few weeks now, and the bone-crushing fear from the suspension had slowly eased up.
Corporate’s wheels were still spinning, trying to figure out how to market the “Wrestling Husbands” without losing total control of the narrative.
But behind our locked door, the scripts no longer mattered.
For the first time in our careers, we had fallen into a rhythm that didn’t involve an arena schedule or a production clock.
It was a smoothness that depicted a beautiful, everyday life.
And because it was December, that everyday life was wrapped entirely in the Christmas spirit.
This year, since we were home, and because I finally had a house where it was only the man I loved and me, I went unapologetically out of my mind on the decorations. Which, to my soul-deep adoration, Silas happily participated in every single bit of.
It was the first time in my thirty-two years I had decorated a home of my own for the holidays, and I didn’t hold back.
We had a towering, nine-foot Fraser fir sitting in the corner of the living room.
Its branches were filled with a sea of different ornaments the Reeds had collected over the years.
Warm lights traced every baseboard, garlands draped over the mantle, and the front porch was done up like a postcard.
Jayme and Shannon, of course, joined in on the madness.
Practically vibrating with excitement when they realized they finally had someone on the property who loved going all-out just as much as they did.
All of us spent three whole days stringing wire and hanging wreaths, laughing as Silas meticulously organized the extension cords by voltage and then length, because his brain couldn't handle the tangled mess.
During the craziness, Silas and I finally managed to take a single, quiet day at home alone.
I sat cross-legged on the living room rug, a roll of thick plaid paper in my lap and a pair of scissors in my hand, trying to read the tiny letters on an instruction card for one of the gifts Silas had bought for Taylor.
My eyes watered, my brow furrowing into a deep scowl as the text blurred together into a chaotic mess.
“Cal, just put them on.”
I didn’t look up. “I can read it just fine, Si.”
“You’ve been staring at the same paragraph for four full minutes, and your nose is literally touching the cardboard.
” Silas’s deeply amused voice rumbled from the other side of the coffee table.
He sat on his heels, a roll of tape hooked around his index finger, continuing to give me hell.
“Put the glasses on, husband. Stop being stubborn.”
With a long, dramatic groan, I tossed the instruction card onto the floor. I hated to admit it, but since we were sent home, I’ve now noticed how bad my vision has gotten.
Years of head bumps, combined with getting older, had quietly destroyed my eyesight. To my dismay, an impromptu trip to the optometrist last week had resulted in a pair of sleek, matte-black glasses I supposedly needed to see anything clearly, whether it was up close or far away.
I reached over to the end table, grabbed the case, and slid the glasses onto my face.
The entire living room instantly snapped into high-definition focus, and the blurred text on the instruction card became perfectly legible.
I cleared my throat, trying to alleviate some of the ridiculousness and self-consciousness that was curling in my chest. But as I looked up, I caught Si’s expression.
He stared at me through the dim light of the room with warmth and captivation in his eyes.
He loved the glasses so much that he told me approximately a hundred times how they made me look like the corporate executive I was supposed to be.
His words enamoured me, and since it was Christmas and our home smelled of pine and peace, I figured I might as well give him the win for once.
I left them on, offering him a small, defensive glare that only made him chuckle.
“You look very handsome,” he murmured, reaching across the table to gently tap the edge of the frames.
“Whatever, Reed,” I muttered, my face burning with a sudden blush as I went back to cutting the paper. “Just pass me the gold ribbon.”
Silas reached for the spool, his fingers lingering against mine as he handed it over. He looked at the tree, and his expression turned solemn, quiet, and deeply emotional.
“You know…” he said softly, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the house. “This will be our first Christmas together.”
I paused, the scissors freezing against the paper as I looked toward him. The weight of his words hit me right in the sternum. Realization washed over me as my mind raced back through the timeline of our lives.
“Jesus, you’re right,” I breathed, caught off guard by the throat-tightening emotion.
All of our adult lives had been spent bleeding for the UWF.
Back when we were in our twenties and together, the holiday loops were the most brutal and grueling weeks of the year.
We were always on the road, flying from city to city for holiday night tapings and post-holiday house show marathons.
This truly was the first time we’ve gotten to spend it together, and inside our home.
Happiness erupted inside me, bubbling over and completely evaporating the tension that had been lingering from the last few months.
While we sat there, surrounded by ribbons and torn edges of paper, reminiscing about the early days of our relationship, a sudden thought popped into my head.
I stopped wrapping, leaning my elbows on my knees. “Si?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“We never went on an actual date,” I said, the words feeling entirely surreal as they left my mouth. “Like…ever.”
Silas paused, a piece of tape dangling from his finger as he looked at me.
“Wait. you’re right. That’s wild.”
“That’s terrible,” I corrected playfully, narrowing my eyes at him behind my glasses. “Wow! You never wanted to actually date me, just hide me in the dark.”
“Hey! That’s not true, you dick! We couldn’t. I always wanted to take you out and buy you dinner.” Silas shot back, his face turning a brilliant shade of pink as he threw a crumpled piece of wrapping paper at my chest.
“Sure, sure. Excuses.” I smirked, leaning back against the couch cushions and crossing my arms over my chest.
“Alright,” he responded, his voice dropping into a low, commanding register that made my pulse do a sudden, familiar flutter. “Will you go on a date with me?”
I blinked, completely caught off guard by the sudden shift in energy. “Wait… right now?”
He chuckled, a bright, mischievous sound as he reached down and snatched the car keys off the counter. “Yep, right now. I have an idea. So, move your ass, Reed.”
I groaned, looking down at my old Philly hoodie. “But we’re not exactly date-ready, Si. I’m wearing your flannel pants.”
Silas let out a long groan of his own, rolling his eyes as he walked toward the front door. “Sir, you’re fine. Throw on some jeans and meet me at the truck. You have five minutes before I leave without you.”
I stood up. “Wait, why are you driving? I always drive.”
He paused at the doorway, turning back to give me a smug, devastatingly handsome look over his shoulder. “Because I asked you out, asshole. Go get ready.”
Winter in coastal North Carolina was nothing compared to the brutal blizzards of a Philadelphia December, but today, the damp Atlantic wind cutting across the marsh made it feel cold as fuck.
The temperature hovered in the low forties, the air biting at my cheeks as I sprinted across the frost-dusted grass of the yard.
I ripped the passenger door of my truck open and slid inside, the heavy blast of the heater instantly hitting my face. The truck was already on and completely warmed up, the engine idling with a deep, familiar purr.
I turned in the leather seat, fully prepared to glare at him for rushing me, but the second my eyes landed on him, my jaw locked.
Silas sat behind the wheel, a proud, entirely unbothered smirk on his face.
And he was currently wearing the exact, oversized grey hoodie that I had just spent fifteen minutes looking for in the closet before we started wrapping.
“Oh, you dick!” I shouted, reaching over the center console to give his broad shoulder a playful, aggressive shove. “That’s the hoodie I wanted! I looked everywhere for that!”
As we hit the historic district of the city, the Christmas magic I loved so much was on full display.
The old brick buildings were completely done up for the holidays.
Massive green garlands wrapped around wrought-iron light posts, velvet red bows hung from windows, and wreaths decorated the grills of the cars that were parked along the cobblestone streets.
Even though it was still daylight, and the sun hadn’t fully set, the festive energy was palpable.
I ate it up. I leaned my forehead against the truck window like a kid, watching the families walk along the riverfront, and my heart swelled with a deep happiness that I knew was permanent.