Chapter 18
C hristmas had always been Blake’s favorite holiday besides her own birthday, but this one felt different.
Living with Emon had shown her what it meant to be truly cherished, and watching him get into the holiday spirit had been something else.
He’d let her drag him to pick out the perfect tree, helped her decorate every inch of their home, and even wore the matching pajamas she’d bought for professional pictures. Anything for his baby.
Christmas morning, she woke to the smell of French toast and coffee drifting upstairs.
Their bedroom was empty, but his side of the bed was still warm.
She smiled, thinking about how different this was from last Christmas, when she’d been alone in her apartment, studying for finals and eating leftover takeout.
Pulling on her silk robe over her holiday pajamas, she made her way downstairs. Their tree looked like something out of a magazine, with presents scattered everywhere. They had been sneaking packages in for weeks, going too far and doing the most for each other.
“About time you woke up,” he called out from the kitchen. “Coffee’s ready.”
Before she could reach for her mug, something in her stocking caught her eye.
“Baby, why are there car keys in my stocking?”
“Maybe Santa thought you been good this year.” He smirked from behind his coffee mug.
“Emon...”
“Just go look outside, girl.”
There it sat in their driveway, a black Ford Bronco, exactly like she’d described months ago: custom wheels, sparkle black paint, and black leather interior with red stitching.
He’d been working on this surprise for months.
Finding the old body hadn’t been easy, but having connections helped.
His cousin Gio’s custom shop was becoming the go-to spot for builds like this.
Watching his cousin’s dream grow made supporting him with this project even sweeter.
“You remembered,” she whispered, tears forming.
“I remember everything you say.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Especially when you talking about your dreams, then you stare off into space with that little sigh. I pay attention to all that.”
After the way she had gone all out for his birthday, he knew he was going to spare no expense for Christmas. She jumped in with a grin the size of Texas, running her hands over the black leather interior. When she turned the key, the custom exhaust pipes rumbled, making her scream with delight.
“It’s perfect.” Her fingers traced over her name embroidered in the headrest; ‘Blake’ in elegant script. The custom plate read ‘BLAKEB’, because of course he’d thought of everything.
“Is it what you envisioned? If not, I’ll take this bitch back right now,” he said, joking.
Blake whipped her head toward him and gave him a death stare. “Don’t touch my baby. It’s exactly what I envisioned.”
“I was fuckin’ with you. I told Gio it had to be perfect.”
“It is. I love it. I can’t wait to drive it over to your mom’s for Christmas. My biggest cheerleader must see this.”
He leaned in through the window. “Come on. It’s cold as hell out here and you got more presents to open.”
“More? Emon, this is already too much.” He’d got her that Ninja slushie she’d been eyeing, new bags, perfume, new shoes, diamond studs from Cartier, and something so customized he knew it would mean more than all the rest. At least he hoped so.
“Yeah, some light shit. Nothing major.”
“I know you don’t expect me to believe that.
” She laughed, heading back inside. She’d gotten him a few things as well.
New tools, a zero turn lawn mower to make his yard work quicker, and a new watch.
She loved that he enjoyed fixing stuff and handling the yard.
He was so old school, and she loved it. They’d be fifty in matching outfits, going for groceries and running errands, and she couldn’t wait.
Blake smirked as she took the box from him, her fingers running over the wrapping. “You always do the most,” she teased, shaking it lightly. “Is this something expensive? ‘Cause you know I don’t need—” She stopped, eyes narrowing playfully. “Wait, is this a puppy?”
Emon chuckled. “Girl, if you don’t just open the damn box.”
She shook it again and smiled before ripping the paper off and tearing the box open.
Her breath caught in her throat as she pulled out the custom throw blanket.
The images of her father and her blurred as tears welled in her eyes.
The memories hit her like a tidal wave. Her fourth birthday, cake smeared all over her face as her dad laughed beside her.
The beach trip when she was seven, gripping onto his shoulders, smiling wide while waves rushed around them.
She traced her fingers over his face in the photos, her voice barely above a whisper. “How? How did you do this?”
“Later there’s something else.”
She found a small recorder in the bottom of the box and her face scrunched in confusion.
“Hit play,” he instructed. She did as she was told slowly. She didn’t know what to expect until she heard her father’s voice come through the speaker.
Hey, Daddy’s girl. I hate I missed you, but I wanted to wish you luck on your test today. It’s your year, and I’m so proud of you and all you’ve accomplished. Uhm, you always make me proud, truly. Love you, see you later.
She dropped the recorder like it was hot.
Blake’s breath hitched, her chest tightening.
The moment the first syllable left the speaker, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room.
Her father’s voice—warm, familiar, full of love, wrapped around her like a hug from the past. Her hands covered her mouth as a sob threatened to break free.
“Where did you find this? I lost this phone years ago,” she asked, finally finding the strength to speak. She missed her dad so much. One more phone call would do.
“Brooks turned me loose in a storage unit and I found it. I got lucky, to be honest. It was in the lining of a jacket. Thank God you saved the audio.”
This was the last voicemail she ever got from her father. She saved it to play after she lost him but soon she lost the phone and hadn’t seen it since. She was in shambles as Emon pulled her into him.
“I wanted to make you happy, baby, not sad.”
Blake wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his neck.
The more time passed, the harder it got for her to remember the voice that soothed her broken heart and that encouraged her when she needed it the most. She feared eventually forgetting it altogether.
And now, because of Emon, she didn’t have to.
Emon held her shaking body, wishing he could bring her dad back for her, but he couldn’t. But he could bring her the closest thing to it; a memory she could play over and over. He lifted her head by the chin and looked into her eyes.
“I am happy. So happy. I missed his voice, that’s all. This is the best thing anyone has ever gifted me, and the blanket. Thank you. I love you. I love it.”
“I love you too. I’m glad I could do this for you.” He was so humble. This was one gift she was going to cherish forever. She hadn’t heard her father’s voice in years and forgot how soothing it could be.
Blake wiped her eyes and settled into Emon’s arms on their couch. The recorder rested in her lap as she traced her fingers over the blanket, taking in each precious memory captured in the photos. Their Christmas tree danced in the corner, casting a warm glow across the room. She was thankful.
“Can I play it again?” she asked softly. Blake swiped at her damp cheeks, a small smile breaking through her emotions. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop playing it,” she admitted.
“Play it as many times as you want, baby. It’s yours.” He kissed her temple, holding her closer. “Brooks said you used to play that message before every test.”
“I did. It was like having him there with me, you know?” She pressed play again, closing her eyes as her father’s voice filled their living room. “I can’t believe you found this.”
“I’d move heaven and earth to make you smile like this.” His fingers intertwined with hers. “Your pops would be proud of the woman you’ve become.”
She looked up at him, eyes still glistening, “You think so?”
“Come on, I know so, and you know it too.”
“Yeah, he would have.” She squeezed his hand, and he stood to clean up the mess they’d made.
Emon was right. Her father would have been proud of her, although it didn’t take much.
He believed that anything she did, whether it was a success or failure, was a lesson and something she’d grow from.
He was even proud of her mistakes. “We all gotta make ‘em,” he would say.
“I said it before, but I need to say it again. He’d love you and the way you love me.”
Emon stopped picking up the paper littering the living room and turned to face her fully. Something in her voice made his heart skip. “Blake—”
“No, let me say this.” She took a deep breath.
“When my daddy passed, I thought that kind of love went with him. Or maybe I’d never experience a protective, nurturing, you can have the moon if you want it type of love, but you crashed into my apartment that day and.
..” She wiped a tear. “You love me like he taught me I deserved to be loved… unconditionally.”
Emon pulled her close, kissing her forehead. “That’s because you deserve it and fate had plans way beyond either of us could imagine.”
Blake exhaled, her fingers still tracing the edges of the recorder in her lap. “I just… I didn’t think I’d ever get to hear him again.”
“I know, baby, but now you can. Any time you want.”
“You don’t understand the gravity of what you’ve done, do you?” she asked.
“I just wanted you to have a piece of him back,” he said softly with a shrug. He believed all men would do exactly what he’d done if it meant she’d smile. “I just know how much you miss him.”