Don't Promise (Don't 3)

“Are you talking about me?” Frank waltzed into the room. He looked as if he had already had a few bourbons.

“Yes, just loving the present you got Mom.” Kaitlyn gave him a hug.

“I thought they would look good on her.” He moved past his daughter and kissed Moira on the cheek.

Grayson ran over and I threw him in the air. “Santa night.” He giggled.

“That’s right. Santa will be here tonight. So you have to go to be extra early.”

He frowned. He hated going to bed. I couldn’t blame the kid. He always thought he was missing out on something.

Ryan strolled in the kitchen a few seconds later. “Is dinner ready?” Kaitlyn threw her coat and scarf on the back of one of the chairs.

But the room was quiet. No one answered him.

I placed Grayson’s feet on the floor. Moira and Frank were staring at Kaitlyn. I wished I could say it was the diamond on her left hand that they had spotted first, but it wasn’t. Inside under normal lights, I realized her dress accentuated just how beautiful her body was. I wasn’t the only one who saw how gorgeous her breasts were or how the swell of her bump made her glow. This dress made sure our babies were front and center. There were no more coats. No more scarves.

Her mother’s mouth dropped open. “Kaitlyn.”

Kaitlyn held the two wrapped boxes in her hand. She shoved the gifts toward her parents.

Her father took his in slow motion. His eyes hardened as they lifted to mine. I didn’t waver. I put a hand around her waist, holding her close.

“Open them,” Kaitlyn urged. “Please.”

I didn’t know what Kaitlyn felt as we watched her parents open the gifts, but I knew it was as if someone had plowed a sword into my lungs. I hurt for her. I didn’t know how to shield her from what was happening.

I wanted to shake them. I wanted to yell in their faces.

Ryan watched silently from the corner of the kitchen.

Moira picked up the picture of the babies. “So you’re pregnant?” Her eyes looked between us.

Frank held an identical photo.

Kaitlyn nodded. “Yes. Twins. Can you believe it?” She was shaking. I added another hand to steady her.

They weren’t going to do this. They weren’t going to scare her, or ruin this moment. I wouldn’t let them.

Her father glared at me. “How did this happen?”

“Dad,” Kaitlyn eked.

“Frank,” Moira placed a hand on her husband’s wrist. “It’s Christmas Eve, please.”

There were a lot of things I knew about Frank Thomas. He went to church every Sunday. He had worked a steady Monday through Friday job at the same company for twenty-five years. He loved bourbon. He loved his family. And he believed children came after marriage.

It was as if I were staring down the barrel of a gun. His rage was palpable. But I wasn’t about to let this get out of hand. Not in front of my son and not in front of my pregnant fiancé.

Ryan walked into the center of the circle. “This is great news. I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle.” He leaned in to hug Kaitlyn. “Congrats, sis.”

I heard her choke back a sob and she whispered something in his ear.

“Yes, honey. Congratulations.” Moira followed her son with a hug.

They stepped back and watched Frank. “You have until the end of the week, son.” He looked at me.

“Excuse me?” I cocked one eyebrow higher than the other.