Season's Greetings : Christmas Box Set

“That’d be really cute.”

“If you’re making something for the baby, you might consider decorating a platter you can add their foot and handprint to later.”

“That’s such a sweet idea.”

“Plate it is,” James says with a chuckle.

“No, you can do what you want to.”

“I’d rather work on one piece with you for Flora.” His voice grows soft, and he gets the gentle expression I’ve come to adore.

Could he come to love her like she was his own? Would we be given that chance to find out?

“Let’s do it.”

Choosing shades of yellows, greens, and a bit of pink, we use stencils to wind vines around the plate’s edges before going back in to add flowers for pops of color.

“Should we do her name in sage green?” James asks.

“Yes. I’ll let you choose the lettering stencil.”

The painting is therapeutic, and my back thanks me for sitting. Flora lounges on my bladder once more. “You handle the name. I need to visit the little lady’s room.”

“At least she waited until after we were done.”

“You always take her side.” I pout, and he chuckles.

“I’m Switzerland. I don’t take sides.”

After making my way to the restroom in the back of the building, I do my business and wash my hands. My purse vibrates. Drying my hands, I lift the phone, expecting it to be Warren.

Preston: Tick tock. I see you haven’t taken me seriously. I’m in town and willing to talk ... for now.

He’s not going to let this go. Ignoring him has done nothing.

Preston: Maybe you need a little motivation.

The phone chimes. A document link flashes on the screen. I double-tap, and the blood drains from my face at the list of cons his lawyer has made about me. My stomach cramps with each line. My home situation, the daycare I’d be forced to use, and my inability to properly split custody from Maryland. The suggestion that I relocate jars me. Can he get away with this? Past experience says yes. The best I can do now is damage control.

Faye: When and where?

The words are a betrayal to the man who deserves so much more. I return to the table.

“What happened?” James asked, instantly picking up on my new mood.

“Can we go home?”

“Of course. I’m all done here. Let me check out.”

I nod, glancing down at the hands in my lap. How ca

n I do this? The ride home is quiet as I try to absorb every second I have left with him.

“Are you ready to tell me what happened back there?” he asks as we walk up to my front door.

I unlock the door and step inside, turning to face him.

“James.” I study the face of the man who’s become my best friend and brace myself for the pain. I turn to him.