Page 125 of Babies for the Christmas Grump

The hum of chatter rises in waves, and for a second, I can almost forget that the floor beneath my feet still feels unsteady.

People… start to have fun again.

Like, seriously. The drama affected nothing…

As if the whole scene never even happened. It’s both surreal and oddly comforting at the same time.

The same guests who were wide-eyed just moments ago are now relaxed, clinking glasses as if they didn’t just witness an explosive confrontation. The servers continue circulating with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres, the laughter around the room now light and easy.

The holiday magic, I guess.

I spot Marjorie by the bar, her smile as wide as ever, laughing at something Eli said. She catches my eye from across the room and gives me an exaggerated wink, clearly sensing that the tension’s starting to lift. I can’t help but smile back at her, feeling a strange, almost surreal sense of relief wash over me.

Maybe it’s the whole “everything will be okay” vibe that people seem to give off when they don’t want to face the awkward aftermath of a meltdown.

Maybe it’s because, deep down, I can see it too… things are going to be okay. We’re still standing. The hotel is still standing.

And somehow, even after everything, this night is still ours.

The sound of jazz drifting through the room is suddenly brighter, smoother, less jarring. It’s almost like the music is playing for me now, a little gift from the universe.

A reminder that there’s beauty in the madness.

I watch as the guests start to dance, moving in time with the music, their faces glowing with the ease of the night taking over once more.

I take a slow breath, trying to center myself again. I can’t keep spinning in this whirlwind of panic. I need to remember that I’m in charge here.

I can do this. I pull myself together, smoothing my dress and adjusting the clutch I’d almost forgotten I was holding.

This is my night.

I force my shoulders back, standing a little taller. Just as I’m about to get swallowed up by the crowd, I see him.

Ryder.

He’s standing there, a grumpy, brooding Christmas angel who’s not quite sure whether he wants to dive into the holiday spirit or stand in the corner and brood some more.

But then our eyes meet, and something shifts. A slow, quiet shift that the universe just decided to reset.

Without even thinking, my feet move toward him. I’m not sure if it’s the adrenaline from Vincent’s drama or just the pull between us, but I don’t stop.

I make my way over to him, my brain trying to catch up with my legs. And when I finally reach him, his gaze is locked on mine, trying to figure me out.

Again.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I blink at him, my heart still racing, but there’s something about the steadiness in his eyes that makes everything inside me just… pause.

“I think I am now,” I reply, my voice a little shakier than I’d like, but it’s true.

I’m starting to feel maybe the world hasn’t completely crumbled around me. And I mean, come on. He just put Vincentin his place in front of everyone. That was… a master class in revenge.

And it made him about ten times hotter.

I stare at him a little longer than I probably should, caught up in the way he looks at me. His eyes are full of so much… gruffness, yes, but also something softer, something that makes my chest feel tight in the best way.

“Thank you,” I blurt out. “For what you did. With Vincent. I… I don’t even know how to thank you for that.”