His mother had followed the same bent, buying Sonia a variety of new clothing except, unlike her normal gear, all of this was more durable and meant to be layered for easier use going in and outside in cold temperatures. Regan also bought her bath salts, lotions and things to wear in her hair.
Sitting amongst the discarded paper, ribbon, bows and boxes with piles of stash by both of them, Callum looked around and muttered, “We’re going to need another year to use all this stuff.”
Sonia, sitting with her ass to her calves, leaned forward and beamed, “I know! Isn’t it great?”
What was great, Callum thought, looking in his queen’s shining, happy eyes, was that they were done unwrapping and now they could move onto an even more enjoyable part of the morning.
Therefore, he reached for her and pulled her off her calves, into his arms and buried his face in her neck.
His lips trailing up to her ear, he heard her say, “You’re not quite done.”
He lifted his head and looked at her only to see she suddenly appeared apprehensive.
“What is it?” he asked cautiously, not happy that the shining light had died in her eyes and anxiety had replaced it.
“You have one more present,” she whispered like she didn’t want to say the words.
She took a deep breath, pulled out of his arms, stood up and started digging in the branches of the tree. She found what she was looking for and gracefully dropped to her knees. She held out a small wrapped box topped with a large bow that engulfed it.
He took it and unwrapped it while she spoke uncertainly, “I didn’t know, you know, if I should but I thought…” She hesitated. “Well, then I thought I should. But now, I’m thinking…” She paused again as he pulled the jeweler’s box out of the wrapping, allowing the paper to fall unheeded to the floor and flipped the box open with his thumb “You don’t have to wear it!” she finished on a strangled cry.
In the box was a wide, simple, gold, human man’s wedding band.
Staring at the often neglected symbol of another culture’s connection between male and female, Callum felt something shift in him so huge it was as if the entire room moved. His chest tightened as did his gut but his mind blanked of everything but that f**king ring.
His eyes moved to Sonia.
“You don’t have to wear it,” she repeated on a whisper.
He used his forefinger to lift the ring from its satin bed, dropped the box but pointed his finger at Sonia.
“Put it on me,” he ordered, his voice so thick it was almost harsh.
She studied him uneasily for a moment before scooting forward on her knees, taking the ring from his forefinger and grasping his left hand. Then she slid the ring on his ring finger.
He stared at the gold gleaming against his skin.
“It fits,” she said softly and his eyes moved to hers “Um…” she mumbled, “Merry Christmas.”
Before his brain told his body to do it, Callum surged up, his arms going around her, taking her with him as he propelled them to the floor, twisting so he landed on his back and Sonia on him.
Then he wrapped his hand in her hair and crushed her mouth down on his in a bruising, possessive kiss as he rolled his weight onto hers, pillows cushioning them, wrapping paper crinkling all around.
Then he took his wife on the floor amongst discarded Christmas paper and boxes and he did that in a bruising, possessive way that she could not misread or misunderstand.
Even so, when it was over, their breathing had steadied, her limbs were wrapped around him and he was still seated inside her but up with his forearm in the pillow he’d tucked under her head. He was running the tips of his fingers across the features of her face, she still asked tentatively, “I take it you like the ring.”
His eyes captured hers and he growled, “Yes, I f**king like it.”
The doubt clouding her eyes disappeared, a hint of a smile touched her mouth and she whispered, “I’m glad you like it.”
He was bending his head to kiss her again, her head was tilting to let him when the doorbell rang.
Callum stopped his descent.
Sonia blinked up at him. “Who could that be?”
He knew who it was.