I wake up to very child-like Bree bouncing on the bed in pink polka dot pajamas and yelling, “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal!”

I bury my head under my pillow and pull the covers up as far as they’ll go, hoping Breezy will go away if I just ignore her.

Apparently, my wishful thinking is useless because she grabs the sheets and yanks them off the bed, leaving me a disheveled mess in an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts.

“Rise and shine, Sunshine! It’s Christmas, and we don’t get to open presents unless everyone is in attendance! I don’t care if you’re pregnant or not, I want to start unwrapping!” she teases playfully, throwing me a fluffy pink bathrobe that also happens to be covered in polka dots.

I groan before lifting my arm high into the air from my lying position on the bed, silently requesting help sitting up. Bree laughs at my pathetic state before helping to pull me up.

“Chop, chop Livvy Lou! The day’s a wastin’!” she yells over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.

I take a deep breath before chuckling to myself and shaking my head at my insane friend. Luke’s sister is a total nut job, and I love her like crazy for it.

--

Christmas morning is awesome. It’s fun to see all of Luke’s family traditions, including everyone opening presents one at a time. It takes almost two hours to finish opening everything, and it’s not because there are a billion presents. It’s mainly because we spend so much time talking between each gift and enjoying one another’s company that we forget to open another present until someone reminds us. And when I say someone, I mean Bree.

It’s different than my Christmases with Adam and his mom. Everything was so forced, so structured, that it was hard to relax. Hell, I didn’t even feel comfortable enough to take off my high-heeled shoes in her house. And here I am, drinking hot cocoa in a hot pink bathrobe and my hair, which still hasn’t been brushed, in a small messy bun.

Don’t get me wrong. Adam wasn’t uptight like that at all. He was all about sweatpants and lazy Sunday mornings. He never cared if I followed the latest fashion trends, or if my nails were freshly painted.

I was the one who wanted to impress Susan, and when I finally gave up on that, I still put forth the effort to make Adam’s life a little easier. I know it was hard to play referee between Susan and me every time we got together.

I take a sip of my hot chocolate before reminding myself how pleasant Susan was at breakfast. She asked if I could stop by sometime this afternoon so she could give me a few presents for the baby.

She promised it would be low-key, and that I didn’t have to stay long if I didn’t want to. She even mentioned that I could bring Luke if I needed to.

She said needed as though Luke has me on a tight leash or something, which you would know is ridiculous if you spent more than five minutes in the same room with him. I invited him anyway, just to ruffle her feathers. We might be on relatively good terms right now, but it’s hard to remember that when I spent so long trying to get a rise out of her. Besides, I didn’t invite him just to rile up Susan. I want him to be with me because when we’re not together, I feel like a piece of me is missing. And when you lose someone you care about, you make more of an effort to be with the ones you love while you still can.

Luke grudgingly agreed to come with me, even though he was pretty hesitant to spend more time with Susan. I can’t blame him. Those two definitely have some bad history. I’m not sure what the deal is, but I can’t help feeling out of the loop with all their cryptic comments.

I shrug it off before heading upstairs to shower. I might refuse to wear high heels in her house now, but I should still look somewhat presentable. Smelling like a hobo might be pushing my luck.

Unfortunately, pants are a no-go for me. I can’t stand the maternity elastic waists, but I do have a cute gray and white maternity dress that grazes the floor. I pair it with black flats and a black puffy jacket, my hair in its signature loose curls.

I apply some chapstick and mascara before heading down the stairs toward Luke and his family. I can hear his husky laughter as I make my way down the hall to the family room.

Sneaking a gingerbread cookie, I lean against the doorframe and watch Luke interact with his family. They’re just finishing up a board game with tiny trains, and I smile as I take in how handsome he is. The light from the window is caressing his skin, giving him a warm glow and highlighting his chiseled features.

He and Bree are arguing over who got the longest route in the game as Jake counts the trains, announcing himself the victor before Luke teases him playfully about cheating.

It takes a minute before anyone notices me, but I don’t mind being an observer in this moment. I take my time nibbling on my cookie and enjoy the happiness that radiates from the room.

I hope I can create a fraction of this much joy in my home with Little Man. It’ll definitely be quieter, since it will just be the two of us, but I want my baby boy to have happy childhood memories like Luke does with his family. I hope he never has to experience the loneliness that was my constant companion while growing up.

I catch Luke staring at me from across the room, right after finishing my last bite of gingerbread. He makes his way over to me, purposely bumping the board and causing the tiny trains to scatter, effectively ending all arguing about who won. Luke wraps me in a hug, holding me closely as his siblings curse at him from across the room.

I smile softly and peek up at him, seeing a mischievous grin on his face. He’s obviously pleased with his not-so-subtle maneuver. Luke leans forward and kisses me softly, slowly nibbling the corner of my mouth before pulling away and licking his lips.

“You taste like cookies,” he grins, affectionately.

I nod, embarrassed at being caught eating more sweets. I swear this baby is addicted to sugar already!

“Let’s grab a few more before we hit the road,” he states, bouncing his eyebrows up and down. He grabs my hand and pulls me into the kitchen where the countertops are covered with a variety of treats.

Luke grabs a half-dozen cookies before nudging me out the front door and to his car outside.

--

I may or may not have finished the last cookie as we pull into Susan’s driveway.

Luke smirks knowingly, well aware of my closet sugar addiction, and pulls me into another steamy kiss across the center console. He doesn’t release me until I’m breathless, his grin still firmly in place.

“Tease,” I accuse, frustrated.

Damn these pregnancy hormones!

His smile widens before he shrugs nonchalantly. “Is it my fault that if I want to eat a cookie, I have to steal the taste from your tongue?”

I bite my lip, my cheeks reddening as he bursts into laughter, proud of himself for embarrassing me with his boldness.

I turn away from Luke, grabbing the door handle in hopes of escaping the car. He leans over the console, his entire torso on the passenger side, and pulls me toward him once more, effectively preventing my escape.

He grabs my chin with authority, both forceful and gentle at the same time, like I’m precious, but he refuses to let me go until he’s ready to do so. “I already told you that I would take every single opportunity to kiss you now that you’ve given me permission. This includes using the excuse to taste the sweet spice still lingering on your lips from your adorable sugar habit.”

He gently presses his lips to mine, his calloused hands cradling my face. He pulls away slightly, though I can still feel his breath against my cheeks. “I’m pretty sure you could eat onions and garlic every day for the rest of your life, and you’d still be the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he whispers huskily, his gorgeous green eyes pinning me in my passenger seat.

The tension is so thick in the small sedan, you could cut it with a knife. Luke swallows thickly, obviously as affected by our close proximity as I am. He kisses my forehead, his lips lingering before releasing me, his head brushing against the roof of the car as he sits back in his own seat.

Luke opens his door and makes his way around the car as I try to catch my breath.

The only thought running through my head is, Your taste is pretty addicting, too.

Luke opens my door and ushers me to the front porch as I experience a weird déjà vu feeling from having done this the day before.

However, this time Susan answers the door almost immediately as if she has been hovering in her entryway, not-so-patiently waiting for our arrival.

She’s wearing a fancy plum-colored dress with a sweetheart neckline that reaches just above her knees and a matching gold bracelet and necklace. Her ensemble reminds me of the old Susan, until my gaze reaches her feet, which are refreshingly bare. A small smile touches my lips as the new Susan immediately pulls me into an embrace.

My arms hang awkwardly at my sides, unsure how to react in such a foreign position. I turn my face to look at Luke, his shocked expression mirroring my own. I’m pretty sure she’s only hugged me one other time in my entire life, and it was more for show than an honest expression of love or affection.

The hug was at Adam’s and my wedding. The photographer had insisted on an intimate moment between mother and daughter-in-law, Susan welcoming me into the family with open arms. Adam had framed it for Susan after we received the pictures, laughing at our awkward posture.

I can’t help but chuckle at how he would perceive our current embrace as well. I hesitantly return the hug, patting her back cautiously. My eyes are still glued to Luke’s as he covers up his snickering with a fake cough.

Susan releases me, smiling widely as she sweeps her arms wide open, welcoming us into her home.

“Come in, come in. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold. That couldn’t be good for the baby!” she fusses, ushering us inside the foyer.

The house looks exactly how I remember it. Olive green walls, gold fixtures, and textured marble tile covering the floors. The only difference is a chunky gold picture frame that’s been added to the hand-carved mahogany entry table at the base of the stairs.

I take a step closer and examine the image. It’s a picture of Adam and me at our wedding, shoving cake into each other’s faces. We’re both smiling from ear to ear, laughing hysterically at the mess we’d made. The photographer captured the moment perfectly.

I’m stunned as I consider Susan’s photograph choice. She hated that picture. She had warned me before the festivities not to make a fool out of myself, and her precious son. How I would always regret getting frosting on my perfectly white wedding dress if I didn’t act like an adult and eat the dessert gracefully.

I can’t help but roll my eyes as I remember how proper the woman was…is. How she whispered that her son was marrying a child, how she didn’t approve of the marriage, and how she had assumed we’d be divorced in a fortnight.

A fortnight.

Her words, not mine.

As I continue to stare at the picture, I hear Susan’s bare feet pad across the tile until she’s standing next to me.

“You made him happier than I could have ever dreamed. I’m sorry I didn’t see it at the time,” she confesses quietly, examining the photograph. “All I ever wanted was for him to be happy, but I was too stubborn to admit that all he ever needed was you.”

I swallow thickly before placing the gaudy frame back on the entry table. I peer over my shoulder as Luke stands by the door with his hands in his pockets. I hold out my hand, motioning him to come closer. He immediately complies, intertwining his fingers with my own.

I look back at Susan, her eyes staring at our interlaced hands before clearing her throat and walking toward the living room.

Luke squeezes my hand before following. The room is extravagantly decorated with a large fake Christmas tree in the corner. I assume it isn’t real, anyway. Susan would never have allowed pine needles to ruin her plush cream carpet.

I shake my head slightly, attempting to stop myself from assuming the worst of her. She’s been nothing but kind to me lately, and I need to return the favor.

“Come sit down. Make yourselves at home.” Susan gestures to the fancy coffee-colored leather couches.

Luke and I sit hesitantly, my hand tightly gripping his. He squeezes it once before letting go and resting his arm on the back of the couch behind me, gently running his fingers across my shoulders. His soothing touch instantly relaxes me, causing me to melt into the leather cushions and, more importantly, into Luke’s side.

Susan takes a deep breath, obviously trying to hide her frustration as she looks at Luke and I snuggling on her couch. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, but I also don’t want to lose Luke’s touch. He grounds me. Makes me feel like I can tackle anything. Makes me feel whole.

“Thank you for inviting us,” I say politely, trying to break the tension.

She nods curtly before attempting to smile, as poised as ever. “Of course. How could I not? I’ve been dying to spoil my only grandbaby,” she gushes, sweetly.

I look over at the Christmas tree in the corner, just now noticing the piles and piles of presents hidden underneath.

“Are those all for my Little Man?” I shriek, blown away by the sheer number of gifts.

She nods enthusiastically. “Of course, they are!”

I turn and look at Luke, feeling like a fish out of water.

I can’t accept these. There are too many. They’re too huge.

“How do you expect me to get them home?” I ask, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of gifts.

“What do you mean, home?” she questions. “I thought you were home.” Her gaze bounces between Luke and me.

I lick my lips, my brows furrowed. “I live with Luke,” I state, although it seems to come out as a question.

He squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. “Yeah, she’s coming home with me. We leave tomorrow, actually.” He sounds so casual, but I can feel the way his muscles tense under his grey button-up shirt.

Susan waves her hand, quickly dismissing Luke’s comment. “That’s nonsense, Liv. You said so yourself. You only went to live with Luke because you had no other options. Obviously, that isn’t the case anymore. I still have Adam’s inheritance, and he would never forgive me if you didn’t have access to it, for the child’s sake. It was actually your main gift. I had the bank put your name on the account. You can get a place of your own tomorrow if you want. Something closer to home. Something closer to family.” It’s obvious she’s referring to herself.

My eyes bounce between my mother-in-law and Luke. I don’t know why this new information has brought me to question where I’ll be living, but it does. Luke only invited me to live with him because he felt obligated. Because he felt like he needed to clean up Adam’s mess.

But that was before we kissed.

Maybe he feels differently now?

It’s not like we’ve had ‘the talk’ or anything. I don’t even really know where we stand. And I’m not sure where I want us to stand.

I feel like I’m walking on a tightrope of emotions, and I could plunge either way at any moment.

On one hand, I want to feel independent. I want to do something on my own without the need to rely on someone. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone, let alone my best friend. I don’t want to hold Luke back, or make him feel obligated to step into the ‘father’ role. He didn’t sign up for that. And I don’t want him to ever regret helping me when I needed him most, from a financial standpoint as well as an emotional one.

But on the other hand, I don’t want to lose the only person I really care about. Luke means everything to me. He was a huge part of my world back then, and he’s become an even larger part since we’ve reconnected.

As soon as these thoughts enter my head, guilt quickly follows. I start to question if I’m replacing Adam with his best friend. And I still remember what Luke said the moment before we kissed for the first time, that he was okay with being second place.

I don’t want Luke to feel that way. It isn’t fair to him, and it definitely isn’t true. There isn’t a first or second place. There are just two separate men that I’ve loved, and will continue to love for the rest of my life. They’ve always held different pieces of my heart.

Holy shit. Did I just use the L-word?

I think I’ve always known that I’ve loved Luke a little bit, but to come to that realization while sitting on my dead husband’s mother’s couch is a bit too much to handle.

I feel so confused.

And dizzy. I feel dizzy.

Like I’m on a Tilt-a-Whirl and might vomit all over said plush cream carpet if I don’t clear my head soon.

Before I can get a grip on my overwhelming emotions, Susan’s crisp voice interrupts my swirling thoughts.

“Liv, honey. I think you and I should talk in private,” she states cautiously, as though talking to a skittish animal.

“No chance in hell will I let you do that,” Luke growls protectively, his arm wrapping around my shoulders.

“Why not? Afraid I’ll turn her against you for good? Show her your true colors?” Susan spits, angrily. “How you would lie? Cheat? Steal? Do whatever was in your power to take her away?”

Mama Bear is back with a vengeance.

I’m shocked by how drastically her tone changed from carefully handling me like a china doll, to practically attacking Luke as if he were a cockroach under her shoe.

I want to ask what she’s talking about, but I’m frozen to the spot. My mind is attempting to comprehend her cryptic statement while still grappling to get a handle on my fraying emotions.

“Don’t listen to her, Liv. She’s trying to manipulate you. I think we should leave,” he whispers calmly into my ear while attempting to comfort me.

“Don’t listen to me?” Susan sneers, obviously overhearing Luke. “You think he’s a shining knight with a white horse coming to rescue you? He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, Liv. He even made up some ridiculous story about Adam cheating on you before graduation. Can you believe that?” she scoffs, oblivious to the bomb she just dropped out of nowhere.

Her statement shocks my system enough to push me to stand, slipping Luke’s arm from my shoulder, my mind reeling. I turn and look at Luke, silently demanding an explanation. He looks up at me with glassy green eyes, silently pleading with me. “Liv. Don’t make me do this.”

I swallow thickly. “Do what, Luke?” I whisper, holding his gaze.

“Don’t make me break your heart for him.”

I shake my head in denial. Not wanting to hear his explanation, but needing the truth more.

“Tell me what you mean,” I demand, surprised by my steely voice.

Luke runs his fingers through his thick hair, pulling slightly on the ends before speaking.

“The night your grandma died, remember I found you in the girl’s bathroom and you told me you never wanted to be alone?”

I nod, listening.

“I knew you needed Adam, so I texted him, but he never replied. He was supposed to be home for a family dinner. I drove to his house. This house,” Luke scoffs, taking in the great room. “I rushed in here without knocking, knowing you needed him to comfort you, and found him with someone else.” He looks at the ground shamefully, almost as if Adam’s transgression is his own.

I’m too shocked to speak. But I don’t need to as Luke rushes on.

“I’m so sorry, Liv. I was pissed as hell that he would betray you like that, and we got into a fight. I told him that he didn’t deserve you. That he let the best thing that ever happened to him slip through his fingers. I could see the guilt written all over his face. I know he had been drinking; the room reeked of alcohol. And you know Adam never drank. Not like that’s any excuse, but….” His voice trails off, leaving me to fill in the blank.

Luke shakes his head, not wanting to relive the moment.

“Adam looked me in the eyes, and I could see how at war he was with himself. He felt guilty as hell, but was defensive too. You know how he never liked to be wrong, Liv. He said, ‘You let her slip through your fingers first. You could’ve had her, but you were too much of a pussy to do anything about it.’ And he was right, Liv. Adam was right. I lost you before I ever even had you. But you seemed so happy with Adam, and I didn’t want to ruin that.” Luke stands up and starts pacing around the room like a caged beast, running his shaky hands through his hair.

“And he loved you. I know he did. You could see how much he regretted it. I told him about your grandmother, and I could see his heart breaking for you right before my eyes. He decided then and there that his little slip-up would be just that. A one-time slip-up. He wasn’t going to break up with you right after your Grandma died. He didn’t want to leave you alone. He was just feeling so much pressure from his mom,” Luke glares at Susan, “and going away to college. He had never been with anyone but you. It’s no excuse, but it practically tore him in two. He spent the rest of his life trying to make it up to you.”

Luke looks as if his heart is breaking, right along with mine.

“He loved you, Liv. He did. He was just a stupid kid, who did a really stupid thing, and regretted it for the rest of his life,” Luke whispers, defeated.

I try to comprehend his confession, but one thing keeps coming back.

“So, you lied to me?” I ask, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“No, Liv. I mean, yes,” he chokes out, “but, I didn’t mean to. It just wasn’t my secret to tell. I wanted to. But I knew you loved him. I didn’t want to see your heart get broken, especially after everything else you were going through,” he apologizes, silently begging me to forgive him.

I shake my head in denial. This can’t be happening.

The only reason Adam and I stayed together was because he felt too guilty to break up with me?

We freaking got married. I’m having his effing baby. Did he ever even love me?

“Don’t be ridiculous, Luke. Adam would never do that. See, Liv? See what I was talking about? See the insane lies Luke has been spinning? Making my precious Adam into the bad guy? He loved you! And I honestly don’t remember pressuring him that much,” Susan interrupts, as though she has any right to be involved in this conversation.

I had forgotten she was even in the room.

I quickly wipe the tears from my eyes, willing myself to become numb for the next few hours. Long enough to get alone and digest this new information by myself.

I feel betrayed.

But I believe him. He isn’t lying.

Susan is just a proud mother who is unable to see the flaws in her only son.

I remember how things were a few weeks before graduation. I remember Adam becoming more distant. I remember Susan pressuring him like hell to break up with me so he could sow his wild oats in college.

And I remember the pain I felt when my grandmother died. I remember Luke holding me, promising me that everything would be all right. That he would make it all better.

And I guess this was his way of keeping that promise.

But it also broke my heart in the process.

I feel like the last five, almost six, years have been a lie. A big. Giant. Lie.

Without a single word, I make my way to the guest bathroom to compose myself. I can hear Luke and Susan whisper-yelling at each other as I close the door gently behind me.

After using the restroom and splashing cold water on my face, I’m reminded of the morning of Adam’s funeral. How I splashed cold water on my face that morning, too. How I gave myself a little pep talk, promising myself that I would figure things out. That I needed to get my shit together and get through the next few days because they were going to happen, whether I wanted them to or not.

I look at myself in the mirror, taking note of my red, swollen eyes. I run my fingers through my hair before pulling it into a ponytail. I breathe in and out slowly, deeply, and count to one hundred before smoothing down my maxi dress and opening the door.

Luke is waiting in the entryway with my black puffy jacket and his thick winter coat.

Susan is nowhere to be seen, although I think that’s for the best until I can sort through the myriad of emotions fighting inside of me.

Luke holds up my jacket, allowing me to slip my arms through the sleeves. After it’s completely on, he places his hand on my lower back and leads me to his car, which is already running. Apparently, he had come outside earlier to warm it up. I’m grateful for his thoughtfulness as I let the heat soak into my numb soul.

The car is silent except for the engine’s low hum as we make our way back to his parents’ house.

I’m sure he would kill to know what I’m thinking right now. But, honestly? I’m not really sure what I’m thinking. The only thing I’m choosing to focus on is my Little Man.

I rest my hand on my stomach and savor every little kick, every tiny nudge, refusing to let my tears fall.