by Harper West
Chapter 2
Killian
Christmas was one of those holidays I just didn't care about. It usually passed me by the same way St. Patrick's Day or Flag Day would, only with more fanfare from everyone else around me.
I had my traditions and I stuck to them faithfully. I usually got invited to various Christmas parties from friends and other people in my social circle, but I always turned them down.
I didn't have any desire to sit around with people and pretend like I cared about the season or whatever. Christmas music usually made me cringe, and I was always looking forward to New Year’s, when I could move on.
The one thing I did enjoy was selecting my mother's Christmas present every year.
I always went out of my way to get her something she'd hate, and considering she didn't send me anything, I was pretty sure she couldn't be that upset about it.
She never said anything about the gifts, but I knew from her household staff that she always opened them and had a nice complaining session about what an ungrateful and horrible son she had.
That sounded like her.
I always made sure her gift came after Christmas, too, so she could get it and be extra annoyed about it.
But really, that was the only thing that made me happy about the season. Everyone else was all deep in the Christmas spirit, and I just was not feeling it.
I ordered my mother a truly horrible crystal goose with beady red eyes that was too large to be considered a paperweight and too small to really be anything else, and then checked my email.
There in the inbox was the invitation to the annual fetish ball.
It was a classy affair hosted every New Year’s Eve by the owners of the club I frequented. The invitations were very exclusive, and the price of admission was used to support the club and pay for the upkeep of equipment and all of that.
Even if it weren't for a cause I wanted to support, I would still want to go. It was nice to get dressed up and drink with people I knew from the clubs. There were always exhibitions and public play, and I went every year.
This year I supposed I could take Ash with me. I wasn't going to kid myself and think she'd be excited about it, but it could be a new experience for her, at the very least.
I immediately RSVPd for two and paid the ticket price before drumming my fingers on the wood of my desk, trying to think of the best way to bring it up with Ashlyn.
It would be best to talk to her face to face about it, but I didn't think she was going to be back from her parents' in enough time to make that happen.
Christmas was still two days away, and it was after nine so I figured she wouldn't still be doing whatever cute family shit was doing with her family, and I took a chance and called her.
The phone rang five or six times, and I was about to hang up and try again in the morning, when finally she answered, sounding out of breath.
"What's up?" she asked.
"Were you just running?" I asked her, frowning.
"Kind of. My dad was throwing snow at me like a jerk, and then I had to run in here."
I could hear her moving around, and I pictured her in her childhood bedroom or something.
"I can call back later," I offered.
"Nah, that's okay. I'm sitting down now."
“How’s domestic holiday bliss going?” I asked her, leaning back in my chair. I’d admit it was nice to hear her voice. Since we got the system down, I saw her at least once a week usually, and it was odd knowing she wouldn’t be over at my place on the weekend. It wasn’t missing her, exactly, more just knowing she was usually there and she wouldn’t be. Like something out of place. Or something.
“It’s going,” she answered. “I’m hiding in my room for the moment because my aunt is trying to get people to sing with her around the piano, and that’s not happening.”
“What, you can’t sing?”
“She can’t play. And no one has the heart to tell her.”
I winced. “Oof. Familial duty really is heavy. This is why I don’t bother.”
“You go see your mother once a month and put up with her bullshit,” she pointed out, and I made a face. She really was coming to know me too well. It was a side effect of being married, probably, but it was strange.
“Touche.”
“So what did you want?” she asked, getting right to the point.
And that was fair. It wasn't like me to just call her out of the blue unless I wanted something. "There's an event I was just invited to, and I wanted to tell you about it."
"An event?" she asked, and she already sounded suspicious.
"Yes. A ball that's held every year on New Year’s Eve."
"Like a charity thing?"
Well, in a manner of speaking kind of, but I wasn't going to try and spin it that way just to get her to agree to go with me. "No, it's more of a fetish thing."
"Oh," she said, and her voice was flat. I could imagine the look on her face very clearly. "And let me guess, you want me to go with you."
"Got it in one," I replied. "I don't usually have a date, but I went ahead and said yes for two."
"Well that was presumptuous of you. How do you know I don't already have plans for New Year’s Eve?"
"Do you?"
"That's beside the point!"
"So you don't," I went ahead and assumed. "You would have told me if you did. I already know you'll be back from your parents' by then because you have to work the day before."
“That doesn’t mean I want to spend my time at some fetish party with you,” she said, and I could imagine the pout.
“Consider it one of your wifely duties,” I told her. When pressed, I wasn’t afraid to press the contract. It was a low move, really, considering how far we’d come without me having to do that as often as I’d used to, but it was part of the deal. She had to do certain things that I wanted her to do if she wanted her money.
And I knew she wanted it.
“That’s low,” Ash grumbled and then sighed. “Fine. I’ll go to your stupid ball. I’m assuming this a fancy, black tie kind of thing?”
“You would assume right,” I said, grinning. “There is a dress code.”
“I don’t have anything to wear to something like that, and I don’t have time to shop for anything.”
I hummed, already considering options for her. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
“I don’t trust you to dress me, Killian,” she said.
“Are you doubting my taste?”
“I’m doubting your ability to pick out something I’d want to be seen in public in.”
That made me laugh. She had such little faith in me sometimes. “Don’t be so negative. I know you better than you think. I’ll take care of it. You just enjoy the rest of your visit with your family.”
I could tell she was reluctant, but there wasn’t much else of a choice, so she agreed, and I was going to very much enjoy proving her wrong.
Chapter 3
Ash
Christmas Eve was the coldest day of the year so far. I woke up in the bed at my parents' house, wrapped up in layers of blankets with the old quilt my grandmother had made by hand on top. It was warm and comfortable, and I stretched slowly, letting myself wake up gradually.
It was nice to know I didn't have anywhere to be. No work, no classes, no demands from Killian to make me have to get up from my cozy cocoon and go face the day.
We always took it easy on Christmas Eve. It was the lead up to the big day. My parents cleaned the house and started cooking, and I drifted from task to task, alternating between helping them and sitting by the fire with cocoa in hand.
This was the first year when I didn't really have any pressing worries to distract me from celebrating with my family. I wasn't concerned about the cost of the trip eating into my savings or how I was going to afford presents. In fact, this year I'd gotten some really nice things from my parents and the rest of my family, and I was proud to put them under the tree with everything else
.
It was the most relaxed I'd been at a family gathering in years.
I was considering rolling over and going back to sleep for a bit when there was a light knock on the bedroom door.
My mom, then. She was the only one who knocked with those feather light raps on the door, just in case you were asleep. My dad liked to pound on the door, making sure you could hear him even if you were in a coma.
"Come in," I said, wiggling further under the covers and not even bothering to sit up.
My mom came in with a smile on her face and a cup of tea in her hand. She looked like me, but older, the lines around her eyes and mouth getting deeper by the year. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, streaked with gray, and she had her glasses pushed up into her hair.
She looked like she'd already been up for hours, even though it couldn't have been much later than eight or so in the morning.
"Merry Christmas Eve," she said, grinning. She set the cup on the nightstand and perched at the foot of the bed. "How did you sleep?"
"Not bad," I said, smiling at her. "This old bed is still comfortable."
"Well, it mostly only sees use when you're here," she said. "Or when your father is being insufferable."
"So, all the time, then?" I asked, and we both laughed.
There were plenty of things I didn't like about my parents, but I saw them so infrequently that being around them usually made me forget all those things. I just enjoyed their company.
My mom and I had crossed into a new phase of our relationship where we felt more like friends than just mother and daughter, and it was nice to have someone to confide in.
I almost wished I could tell her about Killian and everything that was going on with that, but I knew there was no way that would go over well.
No, it was better if I kept that to myself.
"What's going on?" I asked her. Usually she waited for me to get up before telling me whatever was happening that day.
"I just got off the phone with your Aunt Jen," Mom said, making a face. "Day before Christmas and she's springing changes on me. Apparently Carolyn is bringing her boyfriend this year. Well, her fiancé."
I blinked, trying to remember who my cousin Carolyn was even dating. As far as I knew, she was single, but apparently not.
"That's nice for her," I said.
"They've known each other for less than a year," my mom said. "He was supposed to go to his family's for Christmas, but apparently he flew out to surprise Carolyn and proposed to her on the spot. No ring, no nothing. So now he's coming with her to dinner tomorrow, and Jen wanted to make sure I knew he was both a vegetarian and gluten free."
Mom and I both rolled our eyes in unison and then laughed. "That sounds like Carolyn," I said, shaking my head. "She always has to make things complicated. Although I guess it's not her fault her boyfriend surprised her."
"It's her fault for saying yes," Mom grumped.
"Maybe it's true love."
She pinned me with a look. "Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?"
I laughed again. "Okay, okay. You got me. It's short sighted and probably won't end well."
"Thank you," she said. "It also means I'm going to have to make more green bean casserole and figure out what has gluten in it and what doesn't, at least."
I sat up from the bed, “I’ll help.”
“Oh, yeah? You know what has gluten?”
“Nope,” I chuckled, “but when all else fails, I have my secret weapon.”
“And what’s that?”
I tugged my phone out and hopped off the bed, “Google, of course.”
She smiled and took my hand as we kept on gossiping all the way downstairs.
A few hours later, the bitter, overbearing scent of far too much cheap cologne, filled the room as Uncle Robbie’s voice came from behind me.
"So, Ash," he said, dropping an arm over my shoulder. "How're things going? You still getting that fancy art degree?"
I nodded, ducking out from under his arm carefully. He already smelled like gin. "Yeah, still am," I said. "Almost done now."
"Tuition can't be cheap."
"No, but I'm managing."
"Got some help from dear old mom and dad, huh?" he asked, grinning.
Irritation flared, and I shook my head. My parents would gladly help me if I asked, but I wasn't going to ask. I didn't need to ask. Before everything went to shit, I'd been managing well enough to get everything covered, and then I found Killian, and while that was shameful in its own way, it wasn't the same as needing help from my parents. "They're not paying for anything," I told him. "I'm working and covering it on my own."
Being married to a rich guy for a year counted as work, right?
I was sure we'd had this conversation before, but Uncle Robbie looked surprised all the same. "Well, damn. You're gonna make some man happy one day. Don't listen to the hype, Ash. Men love a self-sufficient woman."
"Um. Great?" I said, trying to leave the conversation without making things awkward. I hated when they started going in on how I'd make some man happy one day. I was smart, I was pretty, I had a good head on my shoulders and plenty of common sense! They were always showering me with compliments, but only as far as what my future husband would like.
Amused for a second, I pulled out my phone and tapped a quick message to Killian.
Hey, just wondering, do you like me because I'm self-sufficient?
I ducked back into the kitchen to help my mom with the rest of dinner, knowing Uncle Robbie wouldn't dare follow me in there because it meant he'd have to do some actual work.
"How are you doing, sweetie?" Mom asked from the sink where she was peeling potatoes. She had this way of doing it where she could get the peel to come off in one whole spiral, and I still loved to watch her do it even now that I was an adult.
"Fine," I said, smiling at her. "Uncle Robbie's already in his cups." I gave her a significant look and she sighed.
"He's only allowed to have more than one drink at Christmas, and he goes overboard every year. We haven't even eaten yet."
"It's tradition," I told her, picking up a peeler and getting to work helping her with the potatoes.
When I checked my phone a bit later, there was a reply from Killian.
I'm unsure of the context of this question.
Very diplomatic of him. I shook my head and replied back. My uncle was going on about how I'd make a good wife because men love self-sufficient women. He's also incredibly drunk right now.
I went to put my phone back in my pocket when it vibrated with Killian's response.
Ah, drunk wisdom. Did you tell him you were already a good wife?
I rolled my eyes. You know I didn't. And aw, you think I'm a good wife.
Well, you haven't tried to kill me in my sleep or steal my car, so you're already doing better than some of the wives my friends have.
They need better wives. You might also need better friends. Ones with better judgement.
I'll ask Santa for them.
It's a little late for that.
Ah well. Maybe next year. Merry Christmas, by the way.
Merry Christmas.
I found myself smiling down at my phone while my fingers flew across the screen, answering Killian's messages. Somehow, he was more palatable over text, when I didn't have to be in the same room as he was. Or he was just a good distraction.
I loved the holidays and I loved my family, but the combination could get a bit stressful.
"Who are you texting over there?" my mom asked, cutting into my thoughts. She was standing behind the kitchen island with her hands on her hips, looking amused.
"No one," I said quickly. "Just a friend."
"I see," she said, grinning. "A good friend?"
"Sure," I replied. "Just wishing them a merry Christmas."
"That's nice of you." She kept smiling, and I knew what she was thinking. In her mind, I was texting some guy, and technically she wasn't wrong, but it wasn't like tha
t. Of course, I couldn't explain to her what it was like, so my options were to be vague or lie.
I didn't like lying to my parents, but I couldn't risk them finding out about what was happening with me and Killian. They wouldn't understand, and even if they did, they'd be horrified. It just was better if they didn't know.
"So what's next?" I asked, trying to change the subject.
"You don't have to keep helping if you'd rather talk to your friend," Mom said.
I shook my head and forced a smile. "I can see him when I get back home, Mom. I came here to be with you guys."
"So it is a man," she said, because of course she'd latch onto that.
"Mom," I sighed. "Can we not do this?"
"I just want you to be happy, honey," she said. "You're out there, and you're all alone—”
"I am not all alone. I have friends and coworkers and classmates."
"You know what I mean. I'm not saying you need a man to be happy, but if you have someone, I don't want you to think you can't talk to us about him. Or her!" she added quickly. "That would be fine, too."
It was such a “my mom” way to put it, and I couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Mom," I said. "But there's no one. Just friends. I'm doing okay, though. I promise."
"Okay," she said. "That's all I want."
We went back to getting dinner together. Luckily, my aunts and cousins came in to help with the food, and the kitchen was too crowded and chaotic to hold any serious conversations after that.
Everyone oohed and ahhed at Carolyn's engagement ring, and she told the stroy of how she'd been in her bedroom at her parents' house sleeping when she heard someone coming in through the window.
"I was about to throw the lamp at him, but then I turned the light on and saw it was Adam. I was so surprised."
"I would be too if someone was breaking and entering into my bedroom," I said under my breath.
Carolyn missed the sarcasm and just nodded excitedly. "I know! I was so ready to call the police. But it was him and he had the ring, and he said he was in Minnesota with his family, but he couldn't stop thinking about me, and he knew he didn't want to have a Christmas where we weren't together. It was so sweet."