Mistletoe Not Required

by A. D. Justice

  “Aaron. Why?” Desperation gripped her like a heavy vise and spilled over into her voice—forcing the pleading tone that was obvious even to her. She struggled to maintain her dignity and poise over the despair that suffused her. Everything she’d ever wanted in life was within her grasp, and she felt it slipping away, like tiny grains of sand sliding through her fingers. She was powerless to stop it.

  “Ms. Lanes, surely you didn’t think your relationship with Aaron was anything more than a passing fling. That’s all Aaron ever has—just a quick fling, a one-night stand, and then he’s through with them,” Lance retorted, disdain dripping from his every word.

  Christa heard a low growl emanate from Aaron’s chest, but he didn’t dispute Lance’s mean-spirited words. He also didn’t disagree with Lance’s assessment of their relationship. She knew that was Aaron’s life before her, but they were different. He was different with her. They were a couple now.

  “Aaron—tell him that’s not true. Tell him it’s different with us,” Christa pleaded.

  Lance continued as if her world wasn’t disintegrating all around her. Like the very person she loved the most wasn’t being ripped from her life. Like her heart wasn’t being cut out of her chest.

  “Ms. Lanes, as you can see, Aaron is offering you a very generous settlement. You will be given ten million dollars, a house, and a vehicle of your choice, and you may keep any gifts Aaron has given you. This is the only time you will be offered this generous settlement.” Lance’s heartless words and matter-of-fact tone matched the sneer on his face.

  “What? Ten million dollars? What are you talking about?” Unable to stay seated a second longer, Christa rose and quickly stepped around the table to sit beside Aaron. She was close enough to touch him, to feel the heat of his body, and to inhale the faint smell of his cologne. She watched him lower his head and stare down into his lap before she spoke softly to him.

  “Aaron, please look at me,” she requested. She watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed hard before slowly raising his chin. He turned his head toward her, his eyes indulging in a slow perusal of her body. When their gazes finally collided, she saw his emotions in the stark blue pools of his eyes before he quickly masked his feelings and his eyes became hard as nails again.

  “Aaron, what’s going on? Why are you doing this to us?” Christa asked softly.

  She desperately wished Lance wasn’t in the room so they could talk alone, and she could at least try to understand what was happening. She laid her outstretched hand on Aaron’s arm and lovingly stroked his skin with her delicate fingers.

  “I don’t understand. I don’t know why you’re doing this. But it doesn’t have to be this way. We don’t have to do this. We can just leave now and go home together.”

  “Let’s be frank, shall we? You know who Aaron is. You and he married without a prenuptial agreement. You may have fooled him for a short time, but no judge will ever give you more than what we’re offering you right now when you’ve only been married a few days. You are not entitled to half of everything he owns. If you want to fight us over it, rest assured we have the resources to keep you tied up in litigation for years, and you will not see one penny the whole time. Take the offer. Live comfortably. Move on with your life,” Lance barked.

  Pain and confusion were etched on her face. I know who he is? What does he mean by that? So many questions flew through her mind at lightning speed, too many to even try to vocalize. The only coherent thought she could latch on to was those were divorce papers.

  Didn’t we just walk in here holding hands? He brought me here to serve me with divorce papers, but I don’t understand why. What’s happening? The questions kept coming. They flooded her mind and made it impossible for her to make a logical decision on her own. When she sat motionless and silent for a moment too long, Lance continued.

  “Ms. Lanes, it is my belief that you drugged my brother to get him to agree to marry you, and that you have continued drugging him to keep him with you for the last three days. Now that he can think clearly again, he’s agreed not to press charges against you, provided you agree to this deal,” Lance concluded.

  “Drugged him? Press charges? I haven’t done anything wrong! I don’t use drugs, and I’d certainly never drug him. I wouldn’t even know where to go to get drugs, or even what to get.” Her gaze darted between the two brothers, waiting for one of them to speak words that made any sense to her. Her lips parted, her chest rose and fell in rapid succession, and her hands shook. Her mind was reeling, and she couldn’t reconcile how Aaron could think so poorly of her.

  “Aaron.” The tears glistened in her eyes, spilled over her bottom lids, and poured like a torrent over her beautiful, porcelain cheeks. “You know that’s not true. You know I’d never do that to you.”

  “Aaron doesn’t remember getting married. He doesn’t remember anything about the last few days with you, Ms. Lanes. These are very serious charges—you could possibly even be charged with attempted murder, if the right information was given to the police.” Lance raised his eyebrows, and his tone hinted he was considering the idea of calling the police.

  “You don’t remember anything?” Christa barely spoke the words aloud. Lance opened his mouth to speak yet again, but she cut him off. “Aaron—please say something.”

  “No, I don’t remember anything about the past three days. I don’t know how we got married. How you ended up moving in with me. Nothing.” Aaron’s smooth, sexy voice finally found its place in the conversation.

  Christa inhaled sharply, and her hand flew to her chest, covering her heart. She searched his eyes for any indication that this was some cruel, sick joke, but she found no humor in them. Nothing was there but what appeared to be contempt for her.

  “You don’t remember asking me to marry you, Aaron?” Christa whispered to him.

  “No.”

  This can’t be happening, she chanted silently.

  “Is this what you want?” she asked, inclining her head toward the divorce papers.

  “Yes.”

  She took his big hands and placed them on either side of her face, forcing him to turn in his chair to fully face her.

  “When you proposed to me, you held my face like this. You said, ‘Christa, you are more beautiful to me than the purest diamond. You are more precious to me than the rarest jewel. I want to be this happy every day of my life. Will you marry me?’

  “You were so loving and so sweet to me, Aaron. Even though it was already late at night, you said you were going to make Bellasara’s open so we could pick out our rings and get married immediately. You said you wanted to make me yours before anyone could come along and steal me from you. I laughed because I thought you were just being funny—acting out the scenes like in the movies.

  “But when we pulled up outside of Bellasara’s and the door opened for us to enter, I was shocked beyond words. We searched through every bridal set before you found the exact ones you wanted me to have. Don’t you remember that?”

  Aaron didn’t answer audibly. He only slightly shook his head to indicate no. He listened intently as Christa continued recanting their story through her tears. The tears that were now soaking Aaron’s hands as they held her face. Her eyes, pleading with him, held his gaze steadfast, and he briefly wondered if she could read his thoughts. Without a conscious decision, Aaron’s thumb lightly grazed across her face and wiped away one tear as it fell from her eyes. It was quickly replaced by another.

  “You picked out my rings—the diamond engagement ring and the diamond-circled wedding band. When you found them, you told me to always remember one thing.” Christa stopped talking for a second to try to control the sob that was threatening to break free.

  Aaron furrowed his brow, his eyes pinched together in the corners, silently asking her what that one thing was while he continued to watch her with rapt attention. He allowed some small amount of emotion to shine through his eyes.

  Pity. He pities me. If tha
t’s what it takes to get through to him, I can endure pity for a short time.

  “You said,” she started and stopped to swallow a sob. “You said if I ever gave these rings back to you, it meant I was giving your love back. You said if I did that, I’d never get your love back again. You told me to hold on no matter what happened—to hold on to our love and never give it back.”

  Aaron’s jaw muscle ticked from the hard grit he held. His breaths were quick and shallow, uncertainty and mistrust marring his handsome face. But he couldn’t remove his hands from her face. Despite the terrible thoughts flying through his mind, he couldn’t break the connection with her once he touched her. Everything about her had been his weakness. Her purity. Her innocence. Her admiration of him. Had it all been a lie? His eyes could no longer conceal the upsurge of emotion that flowed through him.

  When she noticed the change in his demeanor, a seed of hope blossomed in her chest that she was getting through to him. Perhaps he did remember but suddenly had cold feet when the weekend ended and reality hit him. One thought after another swirled through Christa’s mind while she tried to make sense of it all.

  Did he have a change of heart?

  Did he think getting married was a huge mistake?

  Am I not good enough for him?

  “Is this what you want, Aaron? You honestly don’t want to be married to me? You don’t want me at all?” Christa asked, leaving the tears to flow freely and her love for him to shine in her eyes.

  Aaron maintained eye contact with her—gazing deeply into her eyes, looking for something, before his eyes followed the trail of her tears to where his hands cradled her face. He looked hard at the moisture gathered there. His gut told him one thing. This was no act—no one could cry that hard, that much, and be faking her feelings. It wasn’t possible.

  “I think it’s best for both of us to end it now,” he finally answered on a whisper.

  He noted that her tears increased after his declaration, and the warm glow that shone in her eyes was slowly extinguished. He watched in slow motion as she reached up, wrapped her small fingers around his large ones, and dragged his hands off her face. The immediate emptiness slammed into him, driving deep into his core. He was losing her, losing his love, possibly even losing his destiny. Something vitally important was gone instantaneously, something he feared he’d never feel again.

  Life had been hard for Christa, but she was no shrinking violet. She’d never felt such pain and despair. She had no doubt it would take her a lifetime to heal from the blow he’d dealt, but she didn’t have it in her to roll over and give up. She reined in the minor breakdown Aaron and Lance had already witnessed, swallowed the broken heart that now resided in her throat, and straightened her spine.

  “I’m not signing those papers,” Christa stated with firmness but was quickly interrupted by Lance’s angry growl before she could finish her sentence.

  “We will see you in court in a couple of years, then!” Lance bellowed.

  “I wasn’t finished!” Christa yelled back before returning her gaze to Aaron, instantly softening, but maintaining her inner determination.

  “As I was saying, I’m not signing those papers. Draw up a new agreement. I don’t want anything from Aaron. I don’t want his money. I don’t want a house or a car or his gifts. I will agree to the divorce when you’ve taken all that out.”

  Looking down at her hands, she stared at the beautiful wedding rings for what felt like an eternity. She was still close enough to him that she could feel the weight of Aaron’s stare on her like an iron anvil resting on her shoulders. From the corner of her eye, she knew he was also looking at her rings—the rings he chose for her. She mustered all the courage she could find as her right hand found her left ring finger. Her hands visibly trembled when she deliberately removed the beautiful diamond rings that symbolized their union.

  Christa took Aaron’s hand in hers, turned it over, and placed the rings in the center of his palm.

  “I’m not giving your love back to you, Aaron. You’re taking your love away from me. All your money, your houses, and your cars—they’re all just worthless junk to me without this,” she said as she closed his fist over “his love,” her wedding rings. “I won’t fight you over the divorce. If you don’t want me, don’t love me, there’s nothing to fight for.” For all the boldness she tried to project, inside she only felt defeated and crushed beyond repair.

  Christa rose from her chair, and Aaron’s eyes followed her every movement. She wiped the remaining tears from her face and dried her hands on her jeans. Looking at Lance, she spoke clearly. “I assume you’ll contact me when you have the new papers ready for me to sign?”

  Lance cleared his throat, obviously surprised by this odd turn of events. “Yes. Yes, I’ll be in contact. It’ll probably take about a week, though, because I have previous obligations to attend to first. I’d really prefer that we get something in writing from you today.”

  Christa quickly picked up the pen, drew lines through the settlement portion of the legal papers, put a big, fat zero in its place, and scribbled her initials beside it.

  “Will that be good enough for now?”

  Lance simply nodded, stunned, and for once in his life, speechless.

  “If you honestly believe he’s been drugged for the last three days, you should get him to the hospital to be tested. He may need medication to counteract any further effects.” Christa’s remarks were made to Lance, but she couldn’t keep the true concern for Aaron out of her voice. “If he was drugged, it wasn’t by my hand. I would never hurt him.”

  Aaron couldn’t stop watching her every move. He was completely mesmerized by her, but he knew he had to break the spell. She had more natural beauty in one little pinky than all the professional models he’d “dated” combined. Her long, thick blond hair draped loosely over her shoulders—her shoulders that stood proud even when she wanted to break down.

  Her petite frame and stature were dwarfed by his, but somehow, she had fit perfectly into his side. Her hand fit his like it was made for him and him alone. Her expressive brown eyes held nothing back, and she gave her love to him freely. Even at that moment, when she was hurt beyond measure, he had no doubt if he asked for forgiveness, she’d give it without question.

  She was more honest, giving, and loving than anyone in his life, but he was pushing her away. She was the light in his dark, dreary world, and he was extinguishing her flame. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was the epitome of all that was good and pure, and he was the exact opposite. The sins of his past wouldn’t let him forget what he’d done. When it came to personal relationships, his judgment had been clouded, his heart jaded. He couldn’t trust his decisions or feelings, and he’d learned to bury them over the years. Regardless of the emotions she evoked, he couldn’t allow himself to give in.

  Christa wiped her face again, reeled in her emotions, and stepped toward the door. She was only a few feet away from Aaron, but it may as well have been miles. Christa was simply trying to keep her composure until she could get back to her small apartment and have a total breakdown in private. She didn’t want the workers in the pretentious office to see the telltale signs of her ugly crying—red-rimmed, puffy, bloodshot eyes, red nose, and tear-streaked cheeks. Her sole focus now was to get to the elevators as quickly as possible, but Lance’s next comment stopped her dead in her tracks.

  “Ms. Lanes, there’s one more delicate subject we need to discuss before you leave.” Lance was almost hesitant, and he nervously cleared his throat. Christa knew whatever was coming next couldn’t be good.

  “And what’s that? What more could you possibly want from me?” she asked incredulously as she whirled around to fully face him.

  Lance cleared his throat again, something she noticed he did when he wasn’t comfortable. “I need you to list anyone with whom you’ve ever had sexual relations. In the event you try to claim that you’re pregnant before this divorce is final, I assure you we will require a vas
t measure of tests to be performed to confirm paternity.”

  Lance knew demanding that information was a far stretch if it came down to a fight in a court of law. She didn’t have legal representation present, and they didn’t have a prenuptial agreement. He knew he didn’t have a valid reason for requesting this information at this point, but he was banking on the fact that she had no legal knowledge or training.

  She didn’t know the wicked ways in which he could use this information against her if she later changed her mind and pursued the path to gain a full half of Aaron’s considerable assets. But he needed to make sure his brother and their fortune were safe and secure from any gold-digging harlots.

  Lance pushed a blank sheet of paper across the table in her direction. She looked from Lance to Aaron, clearly unsure of what she should do, and silently praying that Aaron would come to her rescue. But he sat stone silent, patiently waiting for her to complete the embarrassing and humiliating task Lance had asked of her.

  Christa stepped to the table and scribbled a couple of words before shoving the paper back at Lance. He balked when he read the paper. “Ms. Lanes, I need you to list everyone.”

  “I did,” she responded indignantly, then turned her head to look Aaron squarely in the eye.

  Unable to contain his curiosity of what the paper held any longer, Aaron grabbed the paper from Lance’s grip. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked from the paper to Christa’s face, closely examining her while he tried to come to terms with what he saw.

  “It only has my name on this paper,” Aaron stuttered disbelievingly.

  “I know. I was waiting for the right man. I told you that on our wedding night,” she said as the blush crept up her face. If Aaron had to guess, he would say she was clearly remembering their first night together. The night he couldn’t remember at all. He suddenly wished he could remember that night more than any other night he’d ever spent in a woman’s arms.