Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
I let out a choked sob, my eyes welling to the point I have to quickly brush them clear so I can see. I approach slowly, rapt. I can hardly breathe through my utter awe. I see them every day. In my mind, in the pictures I have on my bedside cabinet.
But this?
“Do you like it?”
I whirl around, sniffing back my emotion, but I can’t stop the flood of tears. “I love it,” I choke, pointing back, as if Dec doesn’t know it’s there. “Look.”
“I see, baby,” he says, coming to me. “And did you see this?” He puts an arm around me and turns me back to the fireplace.
“Oh God,” I whisper. I have a stocking. And so does Noah.
“I found it in the garage,” Dec says. “Albi really wanted to put it there.”
I can’t talk. My throat’s too tight. The tears are streaming.
Dec takes me in his arms, hugging the shit out of me. “He’s a part of you, Camryn, so he’s a part of me and Albi too.”
I nod, sniffing. “Thank you.”
“Shut up.” He pulls me out and wipes my face. “Albi put a gift in Noah’s stocking. Will you humour him?”
I laugh a little through my sniff and go to the stocking, smiling at his name as I peek inside. I gasp. “He gave Noah his Spitfire?” I face Dec, shocked deeply. And then I notice something. Mr. Percival’s on the couch still, with a front-row seat. He’s paused Dad’s Army and is smiling fondly at us.
“Need a drink?” he asks.
“Not yet,” I say, laughing.
“You will do, dear.” He winks. I frown. And then Dec rolls his eyes. “I’m meant to give you this.” Mr. Percival reaches behind him on the couch and pulls something out. “Here.”
It’s my desk calendar. The one Dec bought for my home office. Every day, he leaves some words for me, a memory of our lives. Sometimes they’re deep and emotional, a declaration of undying love and appreciation. And sometimes they’re less emotional, more carnal, like yesterday. When I flipped the day and saw what he’d written, I nearly choked on my coffee.
December 23rd
My cock can’t get enough of you. We’re doing THAT again tonight.
I smile as I take the calendar, but it drops when I see it’s still on yesterday. Oh my days, did Mr. Percival see this? I shoot my eyes to Dec.
Mr. Percival chuckles. “Don’t look at him, dear.”
Oh my God, he’s seen it. “Well, I can’t look at you.”
He laughs harder, and Dec grins. “In my defence, I did warn him not to look.”
“That’s like telling Albi not to eat the Jelly Babies in the bowls scattered around the house, for Christ’s sake,” Mr. Percival says over a laugh. “Turn to today.”
Mortified, I flip the page to today. And I’m frozen again. It’s Albi’s handwriting, a beautiful mess of words.
December 24th
We love you, Camryn! More than Spitfires and Lego and Jelly Babies and busting balls!
Will you marry us? Please, please, please say yes!
Thank you. Lots and lots of love, Daddy & Albi xxx
The tears start rolling again, and I’m sure my mascara is streaking my cheeks. And when I look up and see Albi in the doorway, they come harder. He’s on his knee, a ring box open being held out to me.
Oh my heart.
“Wait for me, fella,” Dec says, hurrying over and joining him, dropping to one knee next to his boy. Our boy. “Well?” Dec asks.
“Will you?” Albi chirps. “Please, please, please?”
I have no idea what I did to deserve this beautiful man or his gorgeous little boy. Blessings. Both of them.
I walk across the room and drop to my knees too, pulling them both close to me.
And that’s all the answer they need.
I’m never letting them go.
* * *
THE END