Over the next several hours, Brett, with his family, decorated the massive tree. Between him, Carter, and Derrick up on ladders, they got the heavy lifting done quickly and left the lower branches to the family.
More often than he should, Brett found himself glancing at Regan, who protectively held his niece in her arms and occasionally reached down to stroke Barney’s silky black fur. Apparently the two of them had made up. The sight of her in complete familial bliss left him fantasizing about their own family, what could have been and what might still be. They jumbled his emotions, anger warring with hope. It was enough to make him dizzy, and considering he was ten feet up on a ladder, it was the wrong place and time to be thinking about anything other than the task at hand.
Still, Regan shone with maternal instincts, leaving Brett with little doubt that if she had stayed, they too would have two to three little ones, probably very close in age to Frankie, Gerry, and Hillary.
What a grand affair Sunday night family dinner would have been then.
He had a feeling Regan was thinking the same thoughts, because almost every time he glanced her way, she was staring back up at him, a wistful sadness marring her features.
Collapsing the ladders and putting them away, they ate appetizers and waited until Hillary and Gerry—who had fallen asleep on the opposite end of the couch over an hour ago—woke from their naps. Then the kids would be let loose on the bottom portion of the tree, their handmade ornaments already prepared for their little fingers to grab.
Brett sat on the edge of the couch and fed Regan a loaded cracker. “Just like old times?”
Hillary stirred in Regan’s arms, letting out a moan that said it was time for Mom or Dad to take over. Evelyn seemed to know and immediately swooped in and took the waking child from Regan’s arms.
Regan smiled. “Just like old times, but on a grander scale. I love watching you and your siblings reminisce about old Christmases, and I appreciate everyone bringing me into the conversation. I take it this is Jessica’s first Grayson Christmas?”
Brett grinned. “Yeah. Think she will survive?”
“I think she’s great, and Barney loves me.”
“What’s not to love?” Brett fed her another cracker before she could respond. The last few hours had given him a glimpse into what could have been. He’d been starring in his own version of Scrooge, and hadn’t realized it until now.
Christmases past were filled with visions of his and Regan’s first. They’d been living in a small apartment and decorating an even smaller tree. After spending Christmas eve with her mother, step-father, and half-siblings, all of which were at least ten years younger than them, they’d spent Christmas morning with her father and his wife, her step-siblings two states away with their father. They’d spent that afternoon with his family, leaving only after mom had packed them enough food to feed them for a week.
What he remembered most was the multi-colored lights that night reflecting off their naked skin as they’d made love in front of that dinky little tree their first Christmas as man and wife.
Shortly thereafter there had been twelve years of nothing. At first, he hadn’t wanted to celebrate the holidays at all, but the heartbreak that feeling caused his mom made him adjust his attitude quick. Only after Evelyn’s kids were old enough to get excited about the tree, decorations, and of course, Santa Claus, had a sense of excitement for the season reentered Brett’s heart.
What did Christmas of the future hold for him? Could it look a lot like what he’d laid eyes on this afternoon? Regan, with child, supervising as he decorated their home? Him, happy with those he loved—laughing, joking, and reminiscing about the past and celebrating the good times he actually believed were yet to come?
Carter walked up to the couch and gently woke up Gerry. “Time to decorate.”
Gerry rubbed his eyes and fussed for a few seconds before looking up at his father. “My turn?”
“Yep. Everyone is waiting, sleepyhead.”
The little boy nodded and rolled over, reaching his arms out to Carter who picked him up, leaving her and Brett alone on the couch. Even Barney got up and followed the kids, who were now on the opposite side of the room.
Regan took Brett’s hands in her own and locked gazes with him. She took a deep, steady breath. “I love you, Brett. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I want to say it, and I want you to know. I love you. Always have, always will.”
Brett stared at her for several seconds and then leaned in and kissed her cheek. He whispered in her ear, “I know. I’m just not sure what to do about it.”
She shook her head. “Me neither.”
“Let’s talk tonight, when we can be alone.”
The house was gorgeous, decked out in more festive decor than an actual store selling the goods. Munro’s Christmas department couldn’t compare to the Grayson family display. Perhaps Regan should recommend Julia for a seasonal position if they opened up a Fifth and Fifth store. She’d certainly do an amazing job.
The food was wonderful, as per usual. They kept the conversations light—which Regan appreciated—and the family atmosphere was something she missed even more than she had realized. The only tension she felt was the anticipation of the conversation with Brett yet to come. She’d told him she loved him. Not hinted nor danced around it, but bold-faced laid it out at his feet.
She wouldn’t regret it, even if he never said it back.
As the family said their final goodnights, Brett scooped Regan up into his arms and took her downstairs, leaving her in the wheelchair. He left her to get ready for bed. She found she was getting stronger and more self-sufficient with each attempt, and considering she had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Ward in the morning, she thought maybe she’d get a weight-bearing cast sooner rather than later.
By the time Brett came downstairs, Regan had cleaned up and was half-asleep in bed.
She opened her eyes to the sound of him rummaging in the closet. “Hey.”
“Hey.” With his back to her, Brett pulled his shirt off. He didn’t look her way.
“Is everything okay?”
His shoulders bunched as he blew out a deep breath. “I’m not used to spending so much time inside my own head. It’s exhausting.”
“Then talk to me.”
He kicked off his shoes and yanked off his jeans, turning to face her. “Actually, I think this day in general exhausted me.”
She nodded. “There was a lot going on.”
“Yeah.” He slipped under the covers and rolled over to face her, the king-sized bed feeling a thousand times bigger than it had before.
“Let it out, Brett.”
Right now, in this moment, it seemed to Regan that he was further away than at any previous point during their reunion. How was that possible after all the fights and conversations they’d had?
“Watching you today with the kids, I couldn’t stop my mind from running a dozen what-if drills.”
So that was it. She’d run through the same scenarios in her head, too. “The kids are great. I have no doubt had I not screwed up we’d have our own kids, probably around the same ages.”
“Is that how you feel? Like you screwed up?”
She furrowed her brow. “Of course I screwed up. I’ve told you I love you, never stopped, probably never will.”
“If you could go back, would you—”
“I’d change it all, Brett. I never should have left.”
“What could we have done differently?”
Regan sighed. “I would have talked to you, although I still don’t know how that would’ve gone over. Perhaps it would’ve made things worse. I don’t know. But if we had talked it out, maybe we could’ve figured out my malfunction together.”
“You said it at Castilla’s. At that time, at that age, I wouldn’t have responded well to a bunch of I don’t knows. I’d have clung tighter, which would’ve made it worse.”
“Maybe. But we could’ve talked to your parents. Or to the church. Or we could have gone to counseling. Instead, my dumbass ran away from the best man I’ll ever know without even fighting for us.”
He inched closer, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “I miss you. Even though you’re here right now, I feel like you’re going to walk out the door any minute, and I already miss you.”
“Do you want me to stay?” Hope bloomed in her chest.
He shook his head. “I don’t want you to stay for me.”
Disappointed, Regan murmured. “I wouldn’t stay for you, I’d stay for us.”
“Are we ready for that? I don’t want to fall into a relationship just because we don’t know how to date and haven’t figured out how we feel. I don’t think I’d recover if we failed again.”
“Maybe we take it slow?”
“How? Do the long-distance thing?”
Regan shrugged. “We could try.”
Brett rolled over onto his back. “How long was the flight?”
“Three hours, if everything goes well.”
“Hmmm. Weekend getaways. That could be nice. We couldn’t afford to do that when we were young, but now, we could go anywhere.”
“Yeah.” She smiled, but deep down knew it was only a bandage. If anything, a long-distance relationship would only confuse their feelings more. Absence makes the heart grow fonder—the saying wasn’t in existence for nothing. They would have weekends of amazing sex, but they wouldn’t address their problems. They wouldn’t fix the root cause to discover what their forever looked like. Kids wouldn’t be an option, nor the sense of family she missed so much.
Still, she’d take weekend getaways over nothing.
Brett rolled over and turned off the light. In the darkness he said, “So, we’ll try a long-distance relationship.”