Broken Holidays: A Broken Series Novella (The Broken Series) (4 page)

At the sound of a beeping horn outside, I slipped off Tony’s lap, giving him one last kiss before zipping my hoodie to cover my bra. “I’ll make sure to take note of the fact that you liked the new panties,” I said, giving him a wink as I headed out the door.

Aside from a hangover, the worst part about waking up after a night of drinking was waking up needing to piss. I was sprawled sideways on the bed with Jessie angled across me on her stomach, her head and shoulders on my chest. Her arm was over Tabitha, who was lower, her head near my stomach. My back ached from the uncomfortable position as my legs dangled off the side of the bed and I groaned as I started to stretch. I knew with the way the girls were laying, I probably wouldn’t be able to get up without waking one of them.

I tilted my head, squinting at the clock on the nightstand as my contacts swam in my still tired eyes. “Fuck,” I groaned softly, realizing I had to hurry. I slipped out from under the girls, apologizing when they whined, and snatched up clothing as I headed toward the bathroom. Now, I was going to add being late to the list of reasons I shouldn’t go out on a work night.

The one thing I had to look forward to was the fact that it was Christmas Eve. Tonight, I would get Conner. When we set up the custody paperwork, we agreed to trade off holidays. He spent Thanksgiving with Lizzie, so for Christmas Eve, I would pick him up and he would stay the night with me. That meant this year, the first year we weren’t all together, I would be the lucky parent who got to see his face when he woke on Christmas morning. I still held entirely too much bitterness inside of me toward Lizzie and Adam to share Christmas morning with them, but I knew that’s what she wanted. She’d been asking me for the last week if I would just come there for Christmas morning so everyone could be together. It wasn’t happening. Not yet. The last time Adam and I were in the same room together, I’d walked in on him with his dick inside my wife. That had very nearly escalated to violence and I wasn’t looking to fight. Not with him, or Lizzie. As it stood, he hadn’t contacted me at all, but the fact that the paternity results had showed Conner wasn’t mine, I knew it was a waiting game. At any time, Adam could decide to end my time with my son and I’d have to fight with everything I had to make sure I didn’t lose him.

Conner was the only good thing I had left in this shitfest I called a life.

Once I was dressed, I said a quick goodbye to Tabitha and Jessie. I was surprised at their offer to join them again sometime and even more shocked by the fact that I wanted to. Usually, I was a one and done kind of guy, but something about these two, the possibilities I could see, made it a tempting idea to keep coming back for more.

It took more coffee than most people drink in a lifetime to keep my eyes open and my mind focused on work. Jackson and I responded to numerous calls from the area stores and malls, injuries from falls and fights over last minute gift items. I hated that the holidays had become so commercialized, where people seemed to lose all sense of benevolence and turned into nothing more than greedy assholes. Even as the day ended, we had two more days of this before we’d get a brief reprise. Christmas Day shoppers and the ones looking for bargains the day after would be just as bad. Then, New Year’s always brought out the drunken idiots.

After my shift, I headed home to shower and change clothes, making sure all of Conner’s presents were safely stashed away in either Tish’s closet or the garage before heading to Lizzie’s to pick him up. It was still weird to think of the house as Lizzie’s, but I’d given it up, signed the papers over to her in the divorce because she wanted Conner to stay in the home he knew. I was still paying half the mortgage for at least another eighteen months as part of my alimony, but the house was hers.

Pulling up in the drive, my stomach knotted when I saw Adam’s car. “Mother fuck,” I whispered, clenching and unclenching my hands a few times as I sat in the driver’s seat. I had to face this, as much as I didn’t want to, and now was as good a time as any.

As I walked up the steps to the front door, I popped my neck, hoping to ease some of the tension I already felt. Go in, get Conner, and leave. That was it. That was all I had to do. I had no reason to speak to Adam or acknowledge his presence in the slightest. Go in, get Conner, and leave.

I rang the doorbell, listening for footsteps. I cursed under my breath when I heard heavier footfalls heading over the tile of the entryway.

The surge of pain and resentment I felt the second Adam’s face came into view, surprised me. Anger, I expected. Anger was easy to justify. I didn’t want to dig deeper into the emotions right now.

Adam stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him before I could find my voice. I took two steps back, keeping space between us in hopes of holding on to my temper.

“Look, I—”

“Don’t,” I snapped, not wanting to hear a word of what he had to say. It didn’t matter. “I came to pick up my son.”

“I know, but I want you to think about Conner. Don’t you think he deserves to have his parents together on Christmas? Come on, man, we’ve spent Christmas Eve together every year since our parents died. You’re mad and you hate me now. I get that. I deserve it. But we have a lot of history and so do you and Lizzie. I’ve stayed out of it, left you alone to deal with things and calm down, but it’s been months.”

I just stared at him, trying not to let his words seep past the wall I’d put in place when I caught them together. Just that reminder helped me cling to my anger. “So, how does it work? You want me to think about Conner and work things out with you and Lizzie because we have history? I’m supposed to come inside, hang out, and pretend that it’s totally normal for a man to walk in and catch his best friend balls deep in his wife?”

Adam’s head dropped. The shame he was emanating nearly choked me. I felt my anger slipping as Adam’s jaw worked. He was obviously trying to find words. The worst part in all of this, in finding them together, in figuring out the depth of their betrayal, in seeing the negative test results on Conner’s paternity test, was my own sense of guilt. I wasn’t sure exactly when the affair started and honestly, it didn’t matter. It was long enough that the son I spent two years raising was actually his. I assumed, anyway. I’d never actually asked. None of it really mattered. In the end, it all came down to punishment for the mistakes I’d made. If Adam knew I was responsible for what happened to his family, if he had even an inkling, he wouldn’t have a bit of guilt for what he’d done. I deserved this and so much worse.

The door opened again and the blonde head of my son poked out. His eyes brightened and his chubby limbs flailed as he rushed toward me. “Daddy!” I swung him up into my arms, everything else disappearing at his smile. Most mornings, the only reason I kept going was that face.

“I missed you, buddy,” I said, hugging him tight as he wrapped his little arms around my neck. Lizzie was standing in the doorway now, her eyes pleading with me to come inside. I sighed, knowing I would give in, regardless of my feelings. We’d had our problems before I caught her cheating, mainly because of her using, but she’d gotten clean again during our divorce and as it looked now, she was still holding strong. She knew I was watching; making sure she kept it together to take care of our son.

Walking into the house — my house, technically — with Adam and Lizzie, brought an onslaught of memories. Luckily, I’d learned how to lock away memories years ago. I focused on that as we settled into the living room. Conner babbled on my lap, just as clingy as he had been the last few times I’d picked him up. Just turning three, he still didn’t understand why Mommy and Daddy weren’t together anymore.

I pulled out my phone, having to fight Conner briefly for it so I could send a text to Tish. I knew he’d be pissed I was staying, but I wanted to do what was best for Conner and right now, he needed something normal. All of us spending Christmas Eve together this way, this was our normal.

I
avoided spending time with Lizzie and Adam alone, instead spending as much of the evening focusing on Conner. But I couldn’t help but notice that there wasn’t any real difference in the way Adam and Lizzie interacted. They were comfortable around each other, but that would be true for any of us. However, I couldn’t tell if they were intentionally trying to hide things and just remain friendly in front of me, or if they really weren’t pursuing a relationship now that Lizzie and I were divorced. Was this what it had always been like? I didn’t see it because it happened behind my back, but now I found myself analyzing every memory I had. But, I didn’t need to analyze it; it didn’t matter either way.

Listening to Tish lecture me as I loaded Conner’s larger gifts into my car late that night almost changed my mind. But when Conner had begged me, wanting me to stay with him there, I couldn’t say no. I’d put him through so much. Actually, we put him through so much, and I didn’t want to say no when it was something as harmless as spending Christmas as a family. A broken family, but a family.

It was almost midnight when my phone buzzed. I was lying, wide awake, on the floor of Conner’s room, feeling like a complete idiot again for having agreed to this. I pulled the phone from the charger, squinting against the bright light as I unlocked the screen.

Paige: Merry Christmas, Fuckface
.

I had to choke back a laugh, not wanting to wake up Conner.

Me: Have I told you lately that you’re a pain in my ass?

Rolling to my side, I hoped to block the light from the screen so it wouldn’t bother Conner. I hadn’t thought about the sleeping arrangements when I’d agreed to stay, but Conner and I had built a fort out of sheets in his bedroom and he was now sound asleep, sideways across the pile of blankets that was our makeshift bed.

Paige: Not since last week.

Me: Damn. I’m off my game.

Paige: You have game?

Me: Ouch.

Paige: I win.

I shook my head, sighing. Talking to Paige made me miss her but tonight, all I could think about was the fact that she would’ve put up an even bigger fight than Tish if she knew where I was.

Me: Merry Christmas, Pigeon-poop
.

Paige: Gross. You had to go fifth grade on me?

The memory of Paige crying to Olivia because the kids at school made fun of her came to mind, bringing with it the sharp pain that always accompanied thoughts of Olivia. Paige had to read her paper about herself in front of the class at the beginning of the school year. It was supposed to help the students get to know one another. One of the things on the list of points to cover was nicknames. She wrote that we all used to call her Paigey-poo to make her mad. The boys in the class took the name and ran with it, turning it into Pigeon-poop.

Me: Yup. Where are you spending Christmas this year?

Paige: With my fuck buddy.

Rolling my eyes, I let out a soft growl. I’d told her about my fight with Lili earlier in the week and now she was apparently going to torment me. Well, I wouldn’t let her.

Me: I hope he has a big cock.

Paige: Actually, SHE has a perfect rack.

Me: You win. Just stop.

I had no one but myself to blame for her corruption. I chuckled, but my humor faded as her next message came through.

Paige: I always win. You should know that by now. What about you? Looking forward to spending Conner’s first Christmas morning without the slut muffin?

I stared at the screen, knowing she was going to be pissed. But it didn’t do any good to lie to her. Besides, I wasn’t doing anything wrong.