feet as much as possible, and I think it will be fun."
I bit my lip, still worried, but nodded anyway. "Sounds amazing. You're too good to me, Mary."
She reached out and patted my hand. "Someone has to be, Brooklyn. And you deserve all the love in the world; you're a good person, in spite of all the world has thrown at you."
Oh fuck, more tears were burning at my eyeballs.
"Enough of that," Mary scolded. "We're having a magical Christmas Eve, Brooklyn."
She wasn't wrong about that. I had a hard time imagining how my day could have possibly gotten any better, but Mary made it happen.
30
We didn't return to the house until well into the evening, and the only mark on my whole day was the fact that I hadn't heard from Dylan again. I'd texted him again while I got dressed in the morning, thanking him for the car and asking him to please not trespass again. He'd replied with an apology but then... nothing else.
At least twenty times throughout the day, I'd opened our message thread, wanting to talk to him, then totally blanked on what to say. I was so damn confused about where we stood. Our fight the other day at the Delta house... then the thoughtful gifts this morning... I had no clue what we were now.
The ache in my chest as I parked my new car, though, told me I also wasn't content with just... friendly. I wanted more. I wanted Dylan Grant to fall madly in love with me. Me. Not with the woman carrying his child, but with Brooklyn Lawson. The gifts today, how they represented moments that were important to both of us, had made me feel like maybe he'd been heading that way, and I had so many feels about it.
But then radio silence.
"You need to get into bed," Mary said as we entered the front door. "Rest up as much as possible before tomorrow."
I hadn't been mothered in so long, but I actually loved all of her worry. "You made me ‘sit a spell’ every ten steps," I teasingly reminded her, "but yes, I do need to rest up so we can do all the Christmas things tomorrow."
Mary looked pleased with herself as she opened the front door, but whatever she had been planning to say was lost in my gasp. The room was dimly lit, but the flash of Christmas lights was my first indication that I wasn't about to walk into the same room we'd left behind.
The front entrance, which had been filled with the edible plants when we left, was now a Hallmark movie.
"Mary?" I said breathlessly. "You did this?"
The room was dominated by a huge tree, real and so green that even in the low, twinkling lights of the flashing Christmas decorations, the color popped. The woodsy scent of pine surrounded us, and I was transported back to my childhood in a flash of memory.
We stepped further into the space, and I was legitimately speechless. It wasn't just the tree, but the decorations, white and snowy with pops of pink and silver, that filled the twelve-foot tree completely. Maybe it had just been too long since I'd seen holiday lights in my home, but I'd forgotten the way they made me feel. The scene was so magical, like nothing bad could happen in the world at Christmas time.
What a lie that had turned out to be. But no, maybe it was the truth. Ever since my parents died and my world had turned into a nightmare, there hadn’t been any of those festive lights in our home. But now, with Blake gone, Christmas had returned.
"Wow," Mary said. "I mean, when Dylan phoned and asked for permission to set up Christmas for us, I had no idea he was going to be this..."
"Extra," I choked out.
It was extra, but it was a stunning extra most people could only dream of having for their Christmas setup.
"Wait, what?" I said, turning away to stare at Mary. "You helped Dylan set this up?"
She shrugged, flashing me her cheeky smile. "You did tell him not to break in again. He was just following the rules."
Skirting them, more like. But... I was too fucking happy to complain about it.
"There are presents," I said, my throat tight. Stupid pregnancy hormones were gonna be the death of me. But the multiple boxes were so pretty, all wrapped in shades of pink, silver, and green. "It's too much."