Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I whisper, “I know, Bubs.”
And I do know. So why can’t I muster up the courage to admit what is happening? Why can’t I go to the people I love the most in the world and tell them I don’t feel safe?
I know if I admit to Brody what has been happening with Aaron, he will jump into protector mode. He’ll help me get a swift divorce and set me up with a new place to live. But I also know he can be hot-headed, and finding out Aaron has laid hands on me multiple times now could possibly land Brody in jail.
I’m so close to leaving Aaron and making it on my own that I can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel. By this time next year, I’ll celebrate Christmas with my family as a single woman.
6
December
My truck rolls to a stop at a slick intersection a few blocks from my house. I spent Christmas Eve with my parents to allow Mack and Griffin time alone with Cadence. Thick, cottony snowflakes are falling, and “The First Noel” is playing on the radio. The scene is set for a storybook holiday, but I can’t muster up the same spirit.
Christmas morning used to be one of my favorite times of the year. Nothing beats the innocence of running down the stairs on Christmas morning and seeing that Santa had come. Growing up, my parents would invite our next-door neighbors, the Turners, over to let McKenna and I play with Griffin and Katie while the adults enjoyed spiked hot chocolates and made a big breakfast spread.
I was naive to think those traditions would follow us into our adulthood. But as I walk through the garage door into my house and spot Griffin at the stove flipping pancakes, my heart both swells and aches.
Fuck, Katie should be here with us right now.
She’d eat this up—Griffin making pancakes in my kitchen for her best friend and niece, who, she would point out, he so stupidly pushed away. She’d probably say something like, “Get on your fucking knees and grovel, Griff. You better beg for her forgiveness.”
I rub the physical ache in my chest that comes whenever I think of the spitfire girl I grew up with. Katie never hesitated to bust my balls and put me in my place. Sure, she was Mack’s best friend, but you don’t spend nearly every day interacting with someone in some small way or another, and not form a deep bond with them. She was ingrained into every memory of our childhood. Days like today feel like a punch to the gut when I realize she won’t be joining us.
The days and months that followed her passing were filled with sorrow so deep I didn’t know how to go on. But I didn’t have any choice but to keep moving, because I had to be there for my twin when her world was crumbling.
Watching Griffin make my sister and my niece breakfast, I know the pain I feel on this day every year, the grief that threatens to pull me under, is nothing compared to the bone-deep despair Griffin has had to overcome. Yet here he is—putting in the effort and slowly proving himself to everyone that he can be the man they deserve.
“Merry Christmas, G. What are you making?” I ask.
“Merry Christmas, Carse. I’m making pancakes, scrambled eggs, and ground sausage. Kenna said Cadence loves all of those, so I thought it was a good choice for the first Christmas I get to spend with her.”
I nod at him, really taking him all in. He’s changed so much in the two years since I’ve seen him. Sure, we played each other in the Frozen Four tournament in college, but I could barely look at him then.
Goddamnit, I’ve missed him.
“You’re doing a good job with her—with them. You know, I feel partly responsible for how things went down. I was hurting too, seeing you like that, hearing what you said to Mack. I didn’t handle it well. Obviously, punching you wasn’t one of my finest moments.” I wince at the memory. Hitting my childhood best friend while he was high and insinuating my sister intentionally got pregnant to trap him . . . yeah, not something I wish to rehash.
I rub the back of my neck and continue, “I’ve always taken on the role of a caretaker in our group. I guess I liked the idea of Mack, and eventually Cadence, needing me. I should’ve backed off and suggested Mack continue to reach out to you. To not give you the option of skirting your responsibilities. Looking back and knowing you, if you were in your right mind, you never would’ve abandoned them. I’m sorry, G. I feel like I got in the way.”
Griff turns off the burner and plates the last of the pancakes.
He clears his throat and turns to me, looking me in the eyes. “Honestly, I should be thanking you, Carse. If it weren’t for you, Kenna wouldn’t have had anyone to lean on after Katie’s death. I carelessly pushed her away, fooling myself into thinking I was doing what was best for her. Then, instead of trying to grieve in a healthy way, I coped by drowning myself in alcohol and prescription pills. You were there for her when I should’ve been along every step of the way. And while I’m jealous as hell that it wasn’t me, I’m also thankful for each and every time you had her back.”
He doesn’t need to thank me. My need to take care of Mack and Cadence has become one of my sole reasons for existing. Without the two of them, I don’t know what I’d do.
“Shit. It’s pretty early for these deep conversations. What do you say we hug it out and let the past stay in the past?” I give him a watery-eyed grin.
Griff smiles back, shaking his head at my theatrics, then brings me in for a real hug. He pats my back a few times, and we part when a throat clears from behind us.
“Care to share what has the two of you so emotional this morning? It’s Christmas!” Mack stands near the kitchen island, holding a grinning Cadence on her hip. My sister and niece are in matching Christmas pajamas and both sporting some crazy hair. But as I look over at Griff, his face is lit up brighter than the damn Christmas tree. He is so enamored with the two of them, and I can tell my stubborn sister’s walls are slowly lowering.
At this very moment, surrounded by my people, I know Katie is here watching over us.
I miss you, Kitty.
After we finished breakfast, Mack said it was time for Cadence to open her presents from Santa. She tore into the wrapping paper, squeals of pure joy filling the room.
Once Cadence finishes opening her last present, Griff gets up and goes to the tree.
