Page 175 of Nutmeg + Mistletoe
Grant
I rub a hand over my face, pacing the study while Marlow sits there, arms crossed so tight across her chest I wonder if she’ll leave bruises.
My voice is cautious, but there’s no mistaking the weight of what I’m about to say. “Do you remember that story I told you about Vegas? About the woman I met there? The one I swore I’d never see again once I learned her age?”
Marlow cuts in immediately. “What does she have to do with anything?”
I don’t let her tone derail me. “Everything. Because I was committed to that promise, Marlow. I kept it, even when that woman from Vegas showed up in Atlanta—as the new team therapist.”
Her gasp cuts through the air like thunder. “Wait, what? I don’t get it…”
“We agreed to stay away from each other, out of respect for you, out of respect for her job. But every time we were in the same room, every time we had to work side by side during team activities, it only got worse. The fondness grew. The wanting. Until it wasn’t controllable anymore.”
“So, you’re saying Eslin was,is, the woman from Vegas that you couldn’t stop thinking about?”
I nod once, firm. “Yes.”
Her stare pins me in place, her jaw tightening. “And how long did you two wait before you let something happen between you?”
The air feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. I drag a tortured breath into my lungs, not wanting to admit to the months ofnear-misses, the brushes of temptation, the times I almost broke. “You have to understand, munch. Eslin really respects you. She loves you and—”
“How long, daddy?”
I shake my head. “Nothingreallyhappened until…” The words scrape out of me, low, ashamed. I bow my head, because saying it aloud feels like betrayal all over again.
But Marlow—my girl has always been too damn sharp. Too quick at piecing puzzles together.
Her eyes go wide, wild, horror blooming across her face. Her voice rises, trembling but fierce, as she spits the words like poison. “ Eslin was the woman from the gala?!”
“Yes,” I admit without hesitation, because there’s no point in dodging it. “It was her. And I know you’re angry, but we planned to tell you. We wanted to do it right, sooner rather than later. Only—Eslin found out you were carrying another secret, and she didn’t want to risk piling more hurt onto you.”
“Un-fucking-believeable,” she hisses, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry, Low. You have to know how sorry I am.”
She doesn’t say anything. Silence stretches, heavy, until finally Marlow leans back, her jaw tight. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you for this, Daddy. I don’t know if I’ll ever trustheragain.” She exhales hard, and for a moment, I think that’s the end of it. But then her eyes flick to mine. “But I sort of understand.”
And then, like she’s dropping a grenade in my lap, she says, “That other secret Eslin couldn’t tell you? I’m pregnant.”
I blink. Twice. Unable to do much else.
Then my beautiful daughter launches right into how she ended up on a reality show that somehow resulted in her marriage, like this is just another catch-up.
Then she says something that makes me completely roll my eyes and even laugh a little inside. “But you can’t tell Declan, Daddy. I haven’t told him yet.”
Chapter fifty-seven
Tree Trimming & Truces
Eslin
Marlow has been on calls for the better part of the day, strategizing, pacing, snapping at people on speakerphone, then snapping at no one in particular. And even though she won’t look at me or speak to me, I still make sure she’s comfortable—keep her fed, press a glass of water into her hand, even prop her feet up on a pillow when she finally sinks onto the couch. She kicked me once for trying, but I’ll take it.
I guess that’s what they mean when they say,love hurts.
After I’m sure she’s as relaxed as she can be, given the circumstances, I step back and let her breathe without me hovering like a mama bear.
That’s when I notice Grant, lugging a box of Christmas decorations into the great room and I walk over to him. “Whatcha doin’, Mister?” I tease, folding my arms.
