I looked away.
“Is that true, Ivy?”
Of course I wouldn’t be fine with it. But I would be a shitty wife to you. Always suspecting you of cheating. Never trusting that you really love me. It would be chaotic.
“Ivy?”
I looked up at him. Sadness built in my chest.
“I don’t want to move on with some other woman. I want you.” He put on his shoes, grabbed his coat, and walked over to me. “I want you to be my wife. The mother of my kids. The woman that I grow old with.”
I tried to gulp down fear, but still it remained lodged in my throat.
He pressed his lips together and studied my face. “Talk to me.”
I squared my shoulders. “I. . .need time to. . .think.”
“That’s always better than no.” A faint smile crossed his lips. “But, tomorrow night, I won’t accept that answer.”
I frowned. Unlike any other Christmas, he was bold and unapologetic. His gaze bored into me, unraveling all my thoughts.
“Goodnight, Ivy. I love you.” He turned around and left.
Once again, I stared at the closed door, needing him to return. Flashes of my mother’s dead body dangled in front of me.
Get out of my head.
I rubbed my eyes and that vision of her remained. I shook my head and the view became clearer. Saint wasn’t my dad, and I wasn’t my mother. But it was hard to hold onto that truth. And even worse, it was hard to not see my face being held tight by that rope and my body being suspended in death.
What do I do? I’m too scared to say yes and too full of grief to say no. Why can’t I be as normal as Holly?
My friend fell into love with no worry of consequences. She was carefree and hopeful. Loving and accepting. She would get her happy ending because she raced for it.
And what about me?
I considered calling my therapist but knew she probably wouldn’t answer. It was Christmas Eve. Although I hated the holidays, many enjoyed them. She would probably be with family and loved ones.
What do I do?Chapter 13
It's the Most Wonderful Time of the YearI tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I told myself that the moon’s glow and even the Northern Lights were keeping me up. But I knew it was my thoughts messing with me. Over and over visions of last night’s dreams played out like a bad horror movie. The people that I dared to love died over and over. The only constants were Holly and Saint.
By the middle of the night, I climbed out of bed and decided to take a warm bath to soothe my thoughts. Fucking Saint had exhilarated me. I wanted more. I had enough energy for several more rounds of his cock thrusting and pumping. But he wouldn’t have it, due to his new policy of stipulations.
I have to go to sleep. A hot bath will get me there.
I started the water, poured liquid soap into the tub, and assessed it. There were buttons on the side that had an image of a chair with hot or cold written. That was when I noticed the white backrest at the end of the tub. I assumed the buttons would control the temperature of the backrest. Then, I spotted jets on the inside of the tub to make bubbles.
This is what I need. A nice relaxing bath.
As the tub filled, I relaxed and took off my clothes. Thick trails of steam rose out of the bubbling water. Even with the chill in the air, I knew the bath would feel like heaven.
Sometimes a bath was all I needed to figure out the craziest things. I’d come up with major design collections from sitting in the tub. I’d even decided on my college from soaking in the water.
Let’s hope this helps with Saint. I have to figure out a way to compromise with him. I can’t. . .lose him. . .not completely.
I dipped my toes into the water. The sudden sensation of heat prickled at my toe. I stepped all the way in. The water engulfed my whole leg. A sigh of pleasure left me. I climbed all the way in and sank within the warm liquid. Layers of shimmering bubbles floated on the surface. Steam rose around me.
“Yes.” I leaned against the backrest, let out a long breath, and closed my eyes. “God, I needed this.”
There was a soothing nature to water. I’d read an article that water could relax us in so many ways. Seeing moving water triggered a response in humans’ brains that induced a flood of neurochemicals—ones that increased blood flow to the brain and heart. The sound of the waves crashing could even alter the brain’s wave patterns and put a person in a meditative state. And just being near water supposedly reduced anxiety, increased happiness, and lowered the heart rate. Perhaps water had that effect on humans because we needed it for our survival. The liquid made up seventy percent of our body. Due to that, there was a deep biological connection between our brains and water.