“I think it’s special that both our parents are still so in love all these years later.”
“I haven’t thought about that before.” I pass her a snowflake shaped ornament. “But you’re right. It is special.”
I watch my parents as they dance in front of the TV screen that displays a crackling fire. I want that to be Ebba and me one day with our kids watching. The feeling settles like a deep ache inside me.
“Can you help me?”
The sound of her voice brings my focus back to her and I find her holding an ancient ornament of popsicle sticks shaped like atree that I probably made in preschool. I think my mom has kept every arts and crafts project from my childhood.
“I was going to put it up there, but I can’t reach.” She points to the spot she wants it. Holding out my hand for it, I wait for her to place it in my palm, but she doesn’t. “No.” She gives me a coy look. “Pick me up.”
Pick her up?
I don’t have to be told twice. Wrapping my hands around her waist, I lift her easily so she can reach her desired spot on the tree. When I place her feet back on the floor, she turns around and beams up at me. Her smile is fucking dazzling, and I find myself plotting for ways to make her smile at me like that again. I’m certain with that smile alone aimed my way at least once a day I’ll certainly live to see a hundred.
I choose not to read into it too much. I want to give her space to figure out what she wants from me.
Ebba reaches for the plate of cookies and breaks one in half. “Want one?” She extends the other portion to me.
“Thanks.” I take it from her and bite into it. It’s still slightly warm. “Mm,” I hum. “Delicious.”
She smiles, clearly pleased. While her and my mom made cookies, my dad and I had gotten the tree set up in its corner in the living room. I have no idea what they talked about while baking but I sure heard a lot of giggles coming from the kitchen.
“Your mom gave me the recipe, so I’ll try to make them on my own sometime and you’ll have to give me the verdict.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
I know we still have several months left to be married so it’s not a stretch for her to talk about baking me something, but it still makes my heart ache with hope that we have more time together. That she’ll give me the forever I’ve always wanted.
I knew when I saw her that first time all those years ago that she was the one. Call it love at first sight if you want, but I don’tthink it was love I felt. It was a bone deep contentment that this is my person. My soul seemed to wake up and recognize hers.
But that doesn’t mean she’ll choose me.
And that’s fucking terrifying.
CHAPTER 36
EBBA
Two days later,after an intimate and cozy Christmas day and a delicious dinner I walk down the street with Fisher. His hands hang at his sides, and I contemplate reaching out and taking one. I can tell he’s backed off some, trying to keep the ball in my court. I’m almost positive he doesn’t want me to feel pressured in any way, and I appreciate that, but it’s so much easier when he’s the one to take the lead.
“What are you thinking about over there?” he asks in a teasing tone. “I can hear the gears in your mind turning.”
“I was thinking about holding your hand.”
He arches a brow as we carry on down the street. “It takes that much brain power to decide if you want to hold my hand or not? I’m not sure whether to be flattered or horrified.”
“No, I just…” I shake my head.
“Are confused and don’t want to give me the wrong idea?” he supplies.
“Well, yeah.”
“Holding my hand isn’t going to make me think you’re committing to forever with me. We still have a few months Ebba.”
“I’m being silly, aren’t I?”
He straightens his baseball cap—the one he put on backwards before we left the house and has my ovaries jumping in delight. “A little.” He says it in a teasing way and winks, no doubt trying to make me feel better about my pathetic freak out. Fisher’s warm palm envelops mine. “This good?”