A Family for Christmas (16 page)

Lydia
literally couldn’t breathe. The world suddenly spun around her. She had been
right and so incredibly wrong. Everything
had
changed.

“He
didn’t save the world with a magic wand,” Daniel said, one more time.

The
silence stretched out for a long time.

Then
Jessica said, “I have no idea what this is about, but sometimes he gets it
right.” She smiled up at her husband with obvious affection. “Sometimes he’s
worth listening to.” She then gave Lydia a slightly teary smile.

Lydia
stared at her, and then she turned to look at her brother.

He
gave her a little nod.

“Okay.
Okay. I get it.” Her voice didn’t even sound like herself. She stood up. “I
better get home.”

Thomas
stood up too. “I’ll take you there.”

Five minutes later, Lydia
was walking through the door of their home.

She
used to think about it as Gabe’s house, but it was her house too. It felt like
hers now. Like
theirs
.

It
was completely silent, and she realized that Gabe must have convinced Ellie to
go to bed early. The first floor of the house was dark, except for the entryway
light.

So
Lydia put down her purse and went upstairs, discovering that Gabe’s bedroom
door was closed. A light was visible through the crack at the floor, the way
she’d seen it so often.

She
stood for a moment, suddenly terrified.

She
wasn’t the sort of person who normally hesitated before doing what she believed
needed to be done. She wasn’t the sort of person who was constantly fighting
tears, whenever she felt strong emotion. She wasn’t the sort of person who was
accustomed to feeling helpless.

But
she did. Now. All of them. As she paused in front of Gabe’s door.

This
morning, it felt like her heart had been broken, and she didn’t want it to
happen again.

But
she made herself knock on the door anyway.

She
heard a noise from inside. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, so she was sure
Gabe wouldn’t be asleep yet. She wondered if he was hurting like she was.

It
was a minute before the door swung open and Gabe stood before her.

He
was still dressed, and he looked rumpled and exhausted and confused and
stretched and like he really needed to shave. He looked like Gabe.

Like
Gabe
.

He
just stared at her.

Finally,
she made her voice work. “Sorry. Were you in bed or…or something?”

He
shook his head and opened his mouth, but no words came out. His eyelids were
heavier than she’d ever seen them before.

“I
just wanted to say…” She stopped to clear her throat, mostly as a filler. “I
know what you said this morning, and I can accept it. But it doesn’t change how
I feel about you and Ellie. I know you said we should take a step back, and you
can do that if you need to, but I’m not going to do it.”

He
kept staring at her, frozen, speechless.

It
was very unnerving, but she pressed on. “I think you’re wrong about holding
back—about not loving the people you’ve been given. And, for whatever reason we
got married, we were still given each other. But I can understand you’ve been
hurt, and it’s hard for you to trust me. I hope that will change. I think maybe
it will. But I can wait. I can be patient. I’m not going to pull away.”

She
paused, hoping he’d say something, but he didn’t move even an eyelash.

She
took a shaky breath. “Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. You can work out
whatever you need to work out for yourself. But I’m your wife. And I love you.
And I’m not going anywhere.”

To
her absolute astonishment, her voice broke on the last two words and a tear
slipped out of her eye to slide down her cheek.

Gabe
stared at her, stared at the tear, and slowly lifted a hand to thumb it away.
Then something seemed to crack in his composure without warning.

He
made a rough, guttural sound and pulled her into his arms, holding her so
tightly she couldn’t breathe.

“Oh,
baby, I love you too,” he murmured, burying his face in her hair.

She
was shaking—almost sobbing—and it was absolutely ridiculous. She wasn’t this
sort of person at all. She couldn’t seem to stop, though. When she pulled away
at last, she was sniffing and beaming at the same time. “Do you mean it?”

“Yeah.
I do. I’m absolutely crazy about you.” He cupped her face with both of her
hands. “I’m so sorry I pulled away. I was scared.”

“I
know. I understood.”

“But
it didn’t make it right. Not when you’re everything I never dared to even ask
for.”

Shivers
of joy were running through her, and she wiped away a couple of stray tears.
“Me too. Me either. Or whatever it should be. I had no idea I even wanted you,
and now I’m not sure how I lived without you. Are you sure you’re not just
overcome by my decline into tears?”

He
chuckled and pulled her into another hug. “That did kind of drive the point
home, but I was already going to tell you.”

“Sure
you were.” She was feeling better—more herself—so she pulled back and gave him
a teasing look as she closed the bedroom door behind her. “You’re just trying
to take my accolades for being the first one to make the move.”

“I
really was going to.” He glanced back to the corner to the room, where there
was a small desk by the window. “I have written evidence, so you can never
doubt me.”

“Really?”
She peered over and saw a piece of paper on the desk. “What evidence?”

“I
was writing you a letter,” he admitted, a little sheepishly.

She
gasped in shock and started over to look at the paper.

He
grabbed her to hold her back. “No need to read it now.”

“What
do you mean? I want to read it.”

“But
I told you in person, so there’s no reason to read the words.” He still looked
slightly awkward and self-conscious. “I was upset. Really upset. It might be
kind of embarrassing.”

She
giggled and pulled out of his arms, running over to the desk before he caught
her again. They had a little scuffle over the letter, but he eventually gave up
and let her read.

It
was only partly finished, but she scanned the lines and felt a swell of emotion
rising in her throat.

“Don’t
make a big deal about it or anything,” he muttered, reaching for it again,
although not persisting when she stretched her arm out to evade his grasp.

“Why
would I make a big deal about it?” She read over the lines again. “It’s not
like you wrote me poetry or anything.”

The
words weren’t poetry. They were blunt and to the point and full of obvious
emotion.

I’m
sorry. I love you. You must know how much I love you. I was just afraid of how
much I was feeling for you and terrified that I would lose you. I didn’t trust
you, and I didn’t trust God, and it was wrong. But I want to take the risk. I
want to love you all the way. If you can forgive me for being an ass, I will
show you how much I…

The
letter stopped there. Lydia’s eyes blurred slightly as she read it again.

“I
told you not to make a big deal.” He looked highly uncomfortable. “I wasn’t
supposed to be in the same room when you read it.”

“Why
were you writing a letter in the first place?”

“Because
I was afraid I’d never get the words said otherwise. This way, it would be
done, and I couldn’t chicken out.”

She
smiled rather besottedly down at the wrinkled page. “It’s like a Jane Austen
novel.”

Gabe
groaned dramatically. “Please don’t say that. It’s just a stupid note. Here,
give it back to me and I’ll thro—”

“No!”
She held the letter to her chest. “You’re not going to throw it away. I’m going
to keep it forever.”

He
rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. You can keep it. But can you please at least put
it down now?”

“Why?”

“Because
I want to kiss you, and it’s getting in the way.”

She
set down the letter on the desk, laughing uninhibitedly and then squealing when
he grabbed her and pulled her down onto the bed with him.

He
settled on top of her, gazing at her with his heart in his eyes. “I do love
you. I hope you believe me.”

“I
do.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I kind of knew it already, although
I didn’t think you were ready to accept it yet. But now I have written evidence
of that fact that I can save for posterity.”

She
giggled when he tried to glare at her.

“But
seriously,” he went on after a minute. “I want to be your husband for real. I
won’t hold anything back. And I know it means you could break my heart if you
want t—”

“I’m
never going to—”

“I
know it’s a risk, and I shouldn’t have been scared to take it. You’ve made
everything about my life better.”

“Me
too.” Her face twisted briefly.

“Don’t
start crying again, or I’ll get totally freaked out.”

She
made a choked sound and tangled her fingers in his thick hair. “I’m not crying.
I’m so happy I could almost burst.”

“That’s
okay then.” He leaned down to kiss her. “And I know you have a heart to work in
India, and that means we’ll have to be apart some during the school year. And
that’s fine. We’ll work it out. I want you to have everything. I want you to be
able to do everything—I just want that everything to also include being my
wife.”

“Of
course, it means being your wife. What do you think I meant back there? I do
want to work in India, and I think I can do some good there. I’m not going to
give that up. But it doesn’t have to look exactly the way I thought it would.
Maybe I could work it out so I’m only there half the year. I’ll talk to them. I
don’t want to be away from you and Ellie for that long. I want to have India
and you and Ellie too, if I can.”

“Then
you will,” he said hoarsely, leaning to kiss her again. “We’ll do whatever we
need to, to make it work.”

She
pulled his head down, because she wanted to kiss him again. And then the kiss
deepened until neither could keep talking anymore.

Soon,
they were pulling off each other’s clothes and kissing and caressing with
almost frantic need.

When
Gabe slid himself inside her, Lydia arched up and gasped out his name.

“Lydia,”
Gabe mumbled against her skin, his face buried in her neck as he held himself so
tensely he was shaking with it. “I love you. I love you.”

She
arched again in pleasure at the sound of his saying the words.

He
was filling her completely—tight and aching and unbearably good. And she was
flushed with heat and urgency and already clawing at his shoulders.

When
he began to thrust at last, they built up a fast, hungry rhythm—Gabe grunting
out primitive sounds of effort and pleasure and Lydia biting her lower lip to
keep from crying out.

She
couldn’t restrain the impulse for long, but it didn’t seem to matter. Gabe was
just as out of control as she was as they moved eagerly together, their damp
skin clinging and their bodies slapping on each in-stroke.

Every
time he pushed into her, Gabe rasped out, “I love you,” and every time she
heard it, Lydia cried out, “Yes!”

She
was on the verging of coming when she met and held his gaze. His blue eyes were
hot and needy, and they didn’t look away from hers.

He
was seeing her for real—in all of her brokenness and humanness and messy
feelings. He was making love to who she really was. Lydia came on the
knowledge.

Gabe
followed quickly, her clenching, shuddering body pulling him into climax as
well.

She
clung to him as she came down, her chest aching with breathlessness and her
body so hot she thought she might melt. But she loved the feel of him, his
heated, sated weight on top of her, the way he seemed to have let himself go
completely.

Like
he understood that she was making love to
him
—in all of his brokenness,
humanness, and messiness—too.

Gabe
buried his face in the crook of her neck again and mumbled against her throat,
“Lydia, Lydia.”

She
arched her neck into his fumbling kisses. “Oh, Gabe, I love you so much.”

He
murmured his agreement, still pressing his lips against her flushed skin. Then
he raised his head and said, a familiar dryness to his voice, “This might be
the best Christmas ever.”

Lydia
could hardly disagree.

***

The next morning, she
woke up to find that Gabe was already awake, lying in bed and watching her.

She
smiled, remembering everything that had happened, how what was broken between
them had been miraculously remade.

He
smiled back. “Good morning.”

“Good
morning to you.” She scooted over a little closer to him.

“Merry
Christmas.”

“Merry
Christmas to you.” She was having trouble containing her happiness. While it
was unlikely she would feel this level of joy for a long time, she was
definitely going to enjoy it for the time being.

“You
look happy.”

“I
am happy.” She recognized an answering feeling in his own eyes, so she added,
“You look happy too.”

“I’m
glad we’re on the same page.”

She
couldn’t help but laugh. “I got you a really good present.”

“I
would certainly hope so.” He did a pretty good job of looking aloof, until he
added, “What did you get me?”

“I’m
not going to just come out and tell you.”