Dear Santa: A Bad Boy Christmas Romance

by Lulu Pratt

  No. That’s not right, either. He’s a liar. They both are.

  “You can keep your eyes shut as long as you like,” Dream Jacob says. “You’re still going to be the same person when you wake up.”

  His words slice through me. I’m always going to be the same person. But no, this isn’t my fault. He lied to me. About the house, about the eviction. About the girls. Wait. It’s all a mess in my head, and I don’t know which is which.

  When I sit up in bed, I’m drenched in sweat, and the darkness in the room wraps around me like a blanket. It takes me a moment to realize I’m on Monica’s couch. The blankets are all on the floor. I scrub my face with my hands and try to take deep, slow breaths. It was just a dream. A nightmare.

  I get up and rake my hair back with my fingers. I go the bathroom where I splash cold water on my face and wipe it off with a towel. When I look at myself in the mirror above the sink, my eyes have dark circles beneath them, and I look haunted.

  I take a deep breath and let it out with a shudder.

  “Sarah?” Lindsay asks, appearing like a little ghost when I open the bathroom door.

  “You startled me! What are you doing awake, sweetie pie?” I ask.

  “I just wanted to go the toilet. And drink water.”

  I nod. “Why don’t you use the bathroom, and I’ll go to the kitchen and get you a glass of water?”

  Lindsay smiles sleepily at me. I walk to the kitchen and find a glass, filling it halfway with water. When Lindsay comes in, I hand it to her, and we sit down at the kitchen table.

  “Do you still like that Santa guy?” Lindsay asks after she gulped down half of the water.

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”

  “Why?” Lindsay asks.

  “Because it turned out he’s a jerk.”

  “Why?” Lindsay asks again.

  I take a deep breath. “He lied to me.”

  Lindsay drinks the rest of the water.

  “Lying is bad,” Lindsay says. I nod. “But sometimes, people lie for good reasons.”

  “Like what?” I ask.

  Lindsay shrugs. “Like to protect people’s feelings, so they don’t get sad about the truth.”

  I sigh. Lindsay is growing up so fast. She’s wiser than I realize sometimes.

  “It’s still better to tell the truth,” I say.

  Lindsay nods and puts down the glass on the table. She slides off the chair. “Sometimes, when I do something wrong, Mom says it’s okay if I say I’m sorry and I won’t do it again. She says people always make mistakes, so you can’t always be mad forever.”

  “Your mom’s right,” I say. I can’t tell her that I don’t want anything to do with Graham, that with how I feel, I might be mad forever.

  “Will you tuck me in?” Lindsay asks.

  I nod, and she holds out her hand to me the way she used to when she was a toddler. I walk with her to her room and tuck her into bed. When I kiss her on the forehead, she closes her eyes and falls asleep almost immediately. I’ve always envied that about her.

  When I return to my couch and lie down, I can’t fall asleep right away. My mind is full of Graham. The dream is still fresh in my mind, and I feel horrible after dreaming about Jacob again. But Graham has never been like Jacob. Jacob always made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, like I was the problem in the relationship.

  Graham always made me feel like I was everything. Even when he lied, he never made me feel like it was my fault.

  Great, just what I need. A guy who fucks up right.

  I close my eyes. Lindsay is right. People make mistakes, and forgiveness should be an option. I don’t know if I’m ready for that, though. I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive him for kicking me out of my own home before Christmas, or for how long he lied about it.

  Lindsay said people lie to protect other’s feelings sometimes, and she’s right. That’s often how it works. Maybe it applies here. Maybe Graham didn’t lie to me because he knew I would be furious when I found out he was my evicting landlord, but because he didn’t want me to feel terrible. But why did he lie to me in the first place? I don’t understand what the problem was, or why he couldn’t just be upfront with me from the start.

  That’s the problem. It’s not just that he lied. It’s why he lied. I can’t help but feel like he lied to me to be able to get into my pants, to get closer and closer to me to get what he wanted. He never made me feel like a piece of ass, but no matter how many times I turn it over in my mind, I can’t find any other reason why he would want to keep the truth from me. He must have known that I would reject him after what he did to me, if I knew. But then again, Monica pointed out that he still planned to get me a place to stay, and he didn’t even charge me rent at the cabin. Not that I was there long enough, in the end, but still. And he bought me groceries and Christmas decorations.

  Nothing makes sense to me. The only thing I know is that he hurt me badly, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for that.

  Chapter 34

  Graham

  On Sunday, I spend time with Britney and the children. We watch them play on the grass when Britney says the dreaded words I hoped I would never hear again.

  “I think I’ve blown this whole thing with James out of proportion. Maybe I should drop the charges.”

  “And go back to him,” I add for her, because I know it’s what she’s thinking.

  She looks at me. “I love him, Graham.”

  I shake my head. “You can’t do this again. This keeps happening. When are you going to realize that this is just a bad cycle that you’re trapped in?”

  Britney sighs. “What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I have that many options. A single mother of three? I don’t know how I’m going to do it. And I miss him. He’s not a bad man. He just has problems. Don’t we all?”

  “No, we don’t all have problems. Not like that. The problem James has is not forgivable. I can’t believe you’re back at this.”

  It’s been long enough since James’s outburst. Every time Britney is away from him for a while, his mistakes seem smaller and less significant. The pain goes away, the fear subsides, and everything he put in her head about his undying love for her comes back, and she runs to him again.

  “You can’t tell me what I should do with my life,” Britney says.

  I nod. “You’re right. I can’t. If you want to go back to that abusive son of a bitch, it’s your choice. You don’t have to go to the courthouse and file for divorce. You’ll get enough to sustain yourself, by the way, with the charges against him.”

  Britney sighs. “It’s not about money. I don’t have enough without him, but I don’t want to leave him. You know what love is like. What if I can’t live without him?”

  She’s right. I know what love is like. I know how it feels to ache for someone now, and how much it hurts not to be with that person. I know that now, more than ever. But Sarah isn’t James. James is a psychopath who doesn’t seem to understand the line between anger and violence, and he can switch off his humanity for a while. It’s a problem that’s not going to go away.

  I don’t say it to Britney. I’ve said it to her a million times before. Saying it again isn’t going to change her mind now, when it hasn’t before.

  “It’s not okay to go back to him,” I say. “If you want to endanger yourself, like I said, go ahead. But if you don’t file for divorce, I’m going to fight for custody of the kids.”

  Britney pales, her face shocked.

  “You can’t take my children away from me.”

  “Oh, yes, I can. Sending them back to live with James means they’re in danger. Even if you drop the charges, the police report is still a matter of public record. It’s all I need to show the state what’s happening behind closed doors at that house. They’ll strip you of your parental rights without hesitation. If I have them, at least you’ll be able to stay in their lives. Either way, it’s not right to make them go back to that. I can’t stand by and let you do tha
t to them.”

  Britney’s eyes well up with tears, and they spill over her cheeks.

  “Oh, God,” she cries. “You’re right. You’re so right. What am I doing to them?”

  I feel bad for forcing my sister’s hand, but she can’t go back to James.

  “What am I going to do?” Britney asks in a soft voice.

  “You’re going to file for divorce,” I say. “You’re going to stay close to me, and we’ll figure it out. You can be happy without him. You can be safe. And just as important, your children can be safe.”

  She nods.

  We watch the children in silence. They’ve been happier since they moved in next door. I can see a difference in them. If they go back there, they’ll die. Maybe not physically, and maybe not right away, but they’ll die emotionally. And that’s a crime.

  “Thank you, Graham,” she says. “I don’t know what I would do without you. You’ve done so much for us, put us first, even when it ruined your own life. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

  I reach over to her and squeeze her shoulder.

  “You’re my sister. It’s been me and you against the world since I can remember. I would do anything for you.”

  Britney is still crying, and I wish I could make it better for her, but she’s taken that first step. As long as she sticks to the plan, she’ll get better in time. She has a long road of healing ahead of her, but there is still hope. She can find happiness. She can learn from what she did wrong and move forward. Maybe she can find a man who will be good for her, who will respect her the way she deserves to be respected and take care of her.

  In the meantime, I will do what I’ve always done, even though I’m the younger brother. I’ll take care of her and make sure she’s safe. Since our parents died, I’ve been doing that for her. Britney and I have been a team against everything life threw at us. We can do it again. We’ve gotten through so much hell before.

  I know that we’ll make it happen for her, and that’s enough for me. Even if I can’t make it happen for myself.

  “I’m so sorry how things worked out with Sarah,” Britney says, as if she knows that I’m thinking about her again.

  I shrug. “It’s okay. I think it was one of those things that just wasn’t meant to be.”

  “You can’t believe that,” Britney says.

  “Why not? It’s not working out. What am I supposed to do?”

  “You can’t just give up. You’re the one who’s taught me to fight for what I want. Even if it’s going to be hard. And with this, it will be. You don’t just leave it there. Right?”

  I sigh. “Right. But she doesn’t want anything to do with me. I’ve tried to talk to her, tried to call her, to text her. She really doesn’t want to hear from me ever again. She made it very clear, too.”

  “That’s not an excuse,” Britney says, and I stare at her, incredulous.

  “It’s easy for you to say,” I retort. “But you forget how badly I messed up, and how angry she was when she left here.”

  Britney nods. “I know she was angry. And I understand why. But you love this woman. It’s a big deal if you, of all people, fall in love with someone. And as far as I can tell from what you told me about her, you had good reason to fall for her, too. A woman like that, emotions like yours, shouldn’t be ignored. Do something about it, Graham. Allow yourself the chance to be happy again.”

  I chuckle. “We’re a pretty pair, aren’t we?” I say. “We’re both lecturing each other on what we should and shouldn’t do, but we’re not that great at actually doing it.”

  Britney laughs, too. “Yeah, we’re not. But we give great advice. We should try take it.”

  I smile. I like seeing Britney like this, so carefree and positive about life — except for one lapse, she’s been doing great since she decided to leave James. And maybe she’s right. Maybe I should fight for Sarah the same way I’m telling her to fight for her freedom.

  The only difference is that Britney’s freedom can’t tell her it wants nothing to do with her. Which is exactly what Sarah has told me.

  Chapter 35

  Sarah

  I go back to work. I hate it. Everyone is still in holiday mode, intent on spreading the festive cheer, and I’m so over it.

  In short, I feel like crap. I don’t want to be around people. I know I’m being a little melodramatic, but I reserve the right to be so when I’ve had my heart broken. I want to lock myself in a quiet room somewhere so I don’t have to plaster a fake smile on my face, and forget about everything that happened over the Christmas break.

  Which is the one thing I can’t do, because my job is all about working with people, and there are at least three other women I must face daily in the open-plan office.

  Everywhere I go, people are sharing their happy holiday stories with each other. They talk about how nice it was to see their families again, how lucky we were to have a white Christmas in the true sense of the word, how convenient it was that the blizzard happened over Christmas so that we didn’t have to close the school for a snow day.

  I don’t want to hear any of it. I wasn’t with my family for Christmas. I was with the one man who turned out to have stolen my holiday — and my house — from me. The white Christmas was a curse, not a blessing, and I wish for a snow day so that I don’t have to be here around all the people who are so damn happy.

  I even had a terrible New Year’s Eve. Monica and Larry went out with friends they had long-standing plans with and Lindsay had a sleepover at her friend’s home. I fell asleep on the couch early that night and didn’t even wake up until seven the next morning.

  I know I’m just being sour. I should be happy, cheerful like I always am. What happened to the woman who’s always in a good mood and takes everything in stride? That’s an easy one to answer. She fell in love with the wrong guy.

  When I sit down behind my desk after all the teachers and secretaries caught up, it’s time to start working, Margot rolls her office chair over to my desk. She’s a hefty woman with a bosom that promises awkward hugs, hair that’s a shade too red, and when she smiles at me today, she has lipstick on her teeth. Usually, I like talking to her. She’s always positive, and I like to think I am, too. At least, I was.

  “How was your Christmas, Sarah?” she asks, clutching a half-empty cup of coffee.

  “It was different than expected,” I say. What an understatement.

  “How is your family doing?” Margot asks. I don’t think she even remembers Monica’s name.

  “They’re doing well. I know my niece would rather be out playing in the snow than be back in class.”

  Margot laughs. “Children only value education when they’re much older.”

  Right. I give Margot an empty smile, and her phone rings on her desk.

  “Oh, duty calls,” she says and laughs like it was funny before rolling back to her desk. I roll my eyes when her back is turned. I don’t dislike the woman. Right now, I just don’t like anyone.

  It’s hard to get through the rest of the day, pretending to be in a good mood when I’m not so that everyone doesn’t keep asking me what’s wrong.

  During my lunch break, I text Monica.

  Do you think I should talk to him? A part of me wants to talk to him. Is that weird?

  She doesn’t take long to reply.

  It’s not weird. Do what you feel is right. Follow your heart.

  I don’t like her answer. It’s the perfect answer, of course, but I don’t know what my heart is saying to me. I was hoping she would give me a straightforward answer so I could follow it blindly.

  Do you think he’s a bad guy?

  Her reply is almost immediate.

  I don’t. Everyone makes mistakes.

  I take a deep breath. Well, Lindsay gets her wisdom from someone, of course. Monica is wise, but it’s hard to just let go and forgive Graham for what he’s done because “everyone makes mistakes.”

  My anger is starting to subside. I’m still hurt, b
ut without the anger to fuel me, I’m starting to weaken, and I’m thinking about everything that happened in a different light. I miss Graham. We didn’t know each other for very long, but after spending a few days with him and only him, I got attached to him very quickly. In the absence of anger, I think about a lot of things we did together, and I want that back.

  I just don’t know what to do. I think I’ll probably speak to him, though. When Lindsay told me everyone deserves a second chance, I told myself forgiveness can only happen after an apology. I never gave him the chance to offer me one, so who is wrong then?

  When my lunch break is over, I get back to dealing with the backlog of work that piled up over the Christmas break.

  “Someone’s here to see you,” Margot says to me a moment later. When I look up, I see Graham at the little window where all visitors to the school must announce themselves. His eyes meet mine the moment I do, and my stomach turns.

  I panic. Deciding to speak to him and being emotionally ready for it are two very different things. I only just decided, and now he’s here in my work place.

  “What are you going here?” I ask.

  “I just want to talk,” he says.

  I shake my head and get up, moving away from my desk. “Well, I don’t.”

  “Sarah,” he says, and like a coward, I run.

  I run away from him, heading to the ladies’ room at the back of the office section. Like a stupid teenager, I hide in the restroom, knowing it will keep me safe from him because he can’t come after me.

  I stay in the restroom for far longer than is necessary. When I finally come out, Graham is gone, and I let out a breath in relief.

  “What was that all about?” Margot asks when I sit down behind my desk again.

  I shrug, trying to look indifferent. On the inside, I’m freaking out. I’m still on an adrenaline high, and I feel like an idiot for how I behaved.