Page 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Theodore

“Tonight, we celebrate!” my father announces, holding up his champagne glass.

The whole family—mine and Marianne’s—is around the dinner table, waiting for dinner to be served. My father passed out champagne glasses and filled everyone’s glass to top. There is a smile on his face that’s brighter than I’ve ever seen before.

“To our families joining,” he begins, turning his attention to me. “To my son for making this possible.” His gaze turns to Marianne at my side, causing my stomach to drop. “And to beautiful Marianne for putting up with my son.” He chuckles, lifting his glass higher. “Let’s drink!”

I tip my glass back, taking a mouthful of the sharp, bubbly liquid, trying to dissect what I’m feeling.

The more time I spend with Tobias, the more I realize that is the life I want.

He is the kind of person I need. Each day, I come to terms with the fact that I do not want to be with a woman, and definitely not Marianne.

And each day, I hammer the nail into my coffin a little more, keeping up this lie.

But how can I let down my father now? I’ve never seen him so happy, and he’s certainly never been so proud of me before. And Marianne… she’s beaming on the side of me, proud to be part of this too. Can I be so selfish to ruin this all just for my own happiness?

I can be happy with Marianne… I can. Maybe not as happy as I could be with Tobias, but it wouldn’t be terrible.

I’d get by. I’d manage. Sex isn’t everything, right?

Marianne and I get along, and we’ve had sex enough times.

It’s always been fine. I shouldn’t ruin my life just because sex is better with a guy. That’s crazy.

Only I know deep down this is more than just sex. It’s Tobias. It’s his personality, his smile, his confidence… it’s just him. I want him in ways I shouldn’t. In ways I said I wouldn’t, when he made it clear this was only a friends with benefits thing.

“Theodore?” my father says as if it isn’t the first time he’s said it.

“Yeah? Sorry.”

“I asked if you wanted to say something.” His eyes widen as if telling me my answer better be yes.

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” I clear my throat as I get to my feet, taking my glass with me.

“I’m so thankful to be part of this family, and so happy to have such a wonderful fiancée.

” My chest gets a little tight, and I have to clear my throat again.

“I see good things in the future for our families, both personally and in business.” I lift my glass a little, causing everyone to smile and make sounds of approval.

"Here's to a wonderful future." I down the contents of my glass before taking my seat, then reach for the wine.

Everyone around the table settles as the staff bring out the dishes filled with food.

Mother always has Christmas Eve catered.

Everything that goes into my mouth feels like dirt and settles into my stomach like a boulder, but I keep a smile on my face, nod when I’m supposed to, and even laugh a few times.

When we’re stuffed full of ham and chocolate cream pie, we take our wine and move into the grand living room, where the tree stands twelve feet tall, glimmering like the night sky. Presents sit beneath, each wrapped perfectly with sparkling bows.

“All right, Preston, I think it’s your year to pass gifts out,” my mother says.

On his way to the tree, he gives me a cocky look.

I roll my eyes in return. Whenever it’s his turn to pass out gifts, he gives me mine last. It pissed me off when I was ten, but now I couldn’t care less.

All of this meaningless stuff will go on a shelf at home, never to be looked at again.

The rest of us disperse, sitting on the couches and the armchairs, which is where I go, needing some space.

Marianne follows me over, leaning on the arm of the chair .

“Won’t you be uncomfortable?” I ask, hoping she’ll go sit on the love seat with her mother.

“I’m fine,” she answers with a smile.

“All right, first gift is for… Isobel!”

I roll my eyes as Preston walks over to give his girlfriend her gift, kissing her on the cheek before letting her take it.

He stays by her side as she opens it, because we’re a “open one gift at a time” household.

I always wished we were one of those families who get all their gifts to tear into like wild animals while shouting and screaming.

The chaos looks like so much fun, like it amps up the energy in the room and makes Christmas ten times better.

Now, you have someone staring at you while you awkwardly open a gift as carefully as you can so you don’t come across as unseemly.

“This is from Channing and Lucy,” she comments as she pulls out a clothing box.

I close my eyes for a moment, listening to the shuffling of the cardboard and tissue paper, wishing I were anywhere else, though particularly with Tobias.

When she gasps, my eyes fly open. “It’s beautiful!

This is the exact one I was looking at!” She hugs the beige scarf to her chest.

My mother smiles. “It sure is, honey. Loro Piana. I sent Gerta to go get it that very same day we saw it.”

“Thank you so much. Both of you.”

She gathers her wrapping and puts it aside, keeping the scarf neatly folded in her lap.

Preston studies the gifts before going for another and checking the tag. He hands it to my parents .

“Oh, a weekend in Mexico!” my mother cries once it’s opened. “You know how I’ve been saying I need some sun.” She pats my father’s lap, looking at my brother Michael and smiling. “Thank you, Michael. This is a very thoughtful gift.”

“Very good, son,” my father adds.

I keep my words to myself, already annoyed with how this is going.

Christmas shopping is always a hassle. I never know what to get my family.

I mean, what do you get people who have everything or the means to always get what they want?

My parents take at least three vacations a year—is sending them on another one really that special?

Preston continues to pass out the gifts, and when I finally get one, almost an hour later, I find a car key buried in a small box. I hold it up, glancing at my parents.

“For ensuring a solid future for our families,” Vern says as he shares a smile with my father.

“It’s from both of us,” my father adds. “Much better than the model you’re driving now.”

I stare down at the fancy B on the key fob, wishing I could crush it in my hand. This gift is certainly not going to be used. The Bentley I have is not even two years old. There’s no need for this one, but I know why they did it. It’s a thank you, and it’s completely undeserved.

My parents are happy with the His and Hers matching Rolexes and so are Marianne’s parents, since we got them the same thing, only in a different color.

Marianne was thrilled with her diamond earrings, and I’m pretty happy with the gym equipment she got me, which will be delivered this weekend.

I’ve been meaning to turn my spare room into a gym for a while. Right now, it’s holding junk.

The rest of the evening goes by with me feeling like a zombie. I keep wondering what Tobias is doing, who he’s on a date with, and what he’s doing with his date.

Jealousy turns in my stomach, adding weight to that boulder and making it impossible to sit still. At some point, I excuse myself and go to the bathroom just to splash cold water on my face and breathe without someone staring me down. When I leave, Marianne is standing outside of the door.

“What’s going on with you?” she asks, not accusingly or unkind. Worried, maybe.

“I think I’m coming down with something. My stomach isn’t right.”

She walks closer to me, putting the back of her hand on my forehead. She’s going to make such a good mother one day.

I should tell her.

Not the mother thing, but that it won’t be with me. That I can’t do this anymore. I’m not happy. I deserve to be happier. She deserves better than me. I'm attracted to men.

Laughter comes from the living room, and I look up as she pulls her hand away.

I’d disappoint all of them…

“You’re not warm,” she comments.

I shrug, bringing my attention back to her. “Maybe just a stomach bug.” I kiss her forehead. “What time do you leave tomorrow?”

“Six am.”

It’s her family’s tradition to spend Christmas with her father’s parents, since her mother’s parents have passed. They fly out to New York every Christmas morning and return a few days later.

“I heard it’s snowing on the east coast,” I comment.

“Isn’t it always?” she asks, putting her arm around my waist, so I throw mine over her shoulders.

I chuckle. “Seems that way.”

We walk back to the living room, and I keep a smile on my face for the rest of the night.

Tomorrow morning, I can keep this life separate for a few days.

I can pretend that it doesn’t exist. I can see what my life would be like if I were to choose me for once.

Maybe that’s the fuel I need to take this final step.