I set my phone down and press my hands over my face, trying to calm my racing heart.
These feelings, this pull, this absolute certainty that I'm in way too deep with no idea how to get out, is getting out of control.
And the worst part?
I don't want to get out.
I want to be in Tyler's hotel room right now, falling asleep next to him, and wake up tomorrow and have this be real, instead of whatever complicated thing we're dancing around.
But wanting something doesn't make it safe. It doesn't mean I won't lose it—lose him.
So I close my eyes and try to sleep, ignoring the phone that buzzes one more time with a message I don't let myself read until morning.
Tyler: I'm falling for you, Red. Just thought you should know.
24
TYLER
It’s been about two weeks since Hartford, and I'm still thinking about that text I sent.
I'm falling for you, Red. Just thought you should know.
She never responded to it directly. She just pretended it didn't happen and went back to calling me Tyler and maintaining whatever boundaries she thinks still exist between us.
But I meant it. Every word.
Saturday morning, I wake up with a mission: theChristmas tree. Harper's first Christmas needs to be special, which means we need a great tree. And maybe I also want an excuse to spend the entire day with Nora doing normal couple things even though we're not a couple.
I think about Jessica sometimes, in the margins of moments like this. Whether she knows what she's missing. Whether she thinks about it. I'm not angry anymore, or at least not the sharp kind of angry. Just a low, quiet ache for the version of this where Harper gets to have her mother around for her first Christmas. I hope wherever Jessica is, she made the right choice for herself. I have to believe that. The alternative is too complicated to sit with on a Saturday morning with a good day ahead of us.
I find Nora in the kitchen making coffee, Harper on her hip, already dressed for the day.
"We're getting a tree today," I announce.
She turns, raising an eyebrow. "Good morning to you, too."
"Morning. We're getting a tree. Harper's first Christmas. It needs to be perfect."
"We don't have any decorations."
"We'll get those too. The Christmas tree lot opens at nine. We should leave by eight-forty-five to beat the crowds."
Nora's trying not to smile. "Someone’s eager."
"Harper deserves the best Christmas, and that starts with the perfect tree."
"Okay." She's definitely smiling now. "Let's get the perfect tree."
We bundle Harper into approximately seventeen layers because it’s December and freezing, and by the time we strap her into the baby wrap against Nora’s chest, only her tiny pink face is visible. As usual, because I cannot help myself when it comes to my daughter, I take a hundred photos before we even leave the house.
The Christmas tree lot is already busy when we arrive just after nine. Families everywhere, kids running between rows of trees, Christmas music playing from speakers, the smell of pine in the air.
It’s aggressively festive, and I’m completely into it.
“What kind of tree are we looking for?” Nora asks, Harper snug against her chest.
"A good one."