Page 9 of A Constant Christmas

“I fucking love.”

“Daddy, don’t say fucking,” Lilah says, and we both roll our eyes.

I whisper, “You know I think she secretly likes it when I do it because it allows her to repeat the bad word.”

“You think?” Sam laughs.

I lean in to make sure that only she can hear me, “But let me tell you how many dirty words I want to use to explain what I want to do to you later.”

Her green eyes flick up at me. “Just wait until you see what’s underneath the dress.”

I clench my fist and bite my knuckles. Glancing at my watch, I am praying that it is close to bedtime. But low and behold we are still at least two hours off.

Damn it.

I look over and see the bags that she has laid all over the counter. “What kind of goodies did you buy?” I ask about to start peeking through them.

She slaps my hand away. “The kind that is a surprise. Your sister is supposed to be coming back over tonight since we are leaving first thing in the morning. She should be here at any time for me to go over everything with her.”

“You know she has a phone, right? If she needs something, she can just call us.”

“I know that. But I also know that she is a Wendell, and you guys are stubborn and don’t like to ask for help with anything.”

“Hmm. Wonder who else is like that,” I say, leaning down to steal a quick kiss.

“I have no idea,” she feigns confusion. “But I’m sure she’s pretty great.”

She turns around, grabbing all of her bags, and heads toward the stairs. I follow her just far enough to watch her ass as she climbs them just slowly enough to give me a good show.

Jokingly, she calls, “Stop watching me, perv.”

For the first time in I don’t know how long, I am seeing that wildfire of a woman that I fell in love with.

Chapter Eight

Sam

When I get upstairs to our bedroom, I dig our suitcases out of the closet and begin to pack. I have no idea where we are going, so I try to pack a little bit of everything, including all the new clothes I just bought.

When I left the house this afternoon, I was still a little weary about this whole thing. I decided to go get my hair done to try to at least feel a little prettier. While I was sitting under the giant hairdryer, I pulled out my phone and was looking at old pictures from years ago of Tyler and me.

Every picture we took showed how in love we were and how we cherished every single moment together. Even after the twins were born, our love echoed in every picture. The way we would look at each other when the other wasn’t paying attention made me swoon. There was one photo where I was holding the girls, one on each knee. I’d never noticed before that Tyler is standing off to the side just looking at me. The look on his face shows nothing but pure, selfless love.

That is my husband. He has always been there for me in the most selfless ways imaginable. Tyler and I started as friends; in fact, I tutored him in Math. Then, after my roommate kicked me out, he and I had a steamy night together, and I guess he took pity on me because he asked me to move in.

We were friends for a while because I simply wasn’t ready for more. He patiently waited for me to let down my walls enough for him to break through. Then, when my past came knocking in the form of my abusive ex-boyfriend who stalked me for damn near a year, he was there. He put up with me being moody, distant, and terrified. He made sure I always felt loved…even when I lied to him to push him away.

Then, we moved on from all that and had the twins and then Jonathan. No matter how greasy my hair got, or how ratty my clothes looked, he never treated me like anything less than a queen. When I turned him down for sex, he didn’t make me feel bad. He just would give me a sweet kiss and tell me to go to bed.

And Tess was right in the sense that Tyler is always willing to help me with whatever I need. If I asked him to stay home and help with the twins, he would do it in a heartbeat. No questions asked.

Instead, I chose to try to do it all myself and then silently built up a wall of resentment toward him. Resentment that he gets to get out of the house every day. Resentment that he always looks like the damn prince from a fairy tale (albeit a tatted up prince). And resentment that I felt like he is exactly the same as he was all those years ago while I just feel like a shell of a person sometimes.

But ultimately, I know none of that is his fault. He’s been doing what he always does. Propping me up when I need it the most, sometimes without me even realizing he’s doing it.

It’s time that I start finding a way to balance being a mom and a wife and a woman. And it’s time for me to show my husband that I am still in love with him and that I appreciate everything he does for us.

So, I got a new hair-do that makes me feel pretty again as well as some new clothes. I’ve been living in sweats and yoga pants for who knows how long, so I decided to expand my wardrobe a bit…including some lingerie I think he will enjoy. While I was out, I even got a pedicure and had a waxing…of everything.