Read Online Sweet Christmas Kisses by Ginny Baird, Grace Greene, Donna Fasano, Helen Scott Taylor, Beate Boeker, Melinda Curtis, Denise Devine, Raine English, Aileen Fish, Patricia Forsythe, Mona Risk, Roxanne Rustand, Magdalena Scott, Kristin Wallace - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ginny Baird, Grace Greene, Donna Fasano, Helen Scott Taylor, Beate Boeker, Melinda Curtis, Denise Devine, Raine English, Aileen Fish, Patricia Forsythe, Mona Risk, Roxanne Rustand, Magdalena Scott, Kristin Wallace
Ads: Link
terribly upset about Izzie, that was true, but Aaron’s apology had set her on what felt like a razor’s edge that sliced her heart clean in two.
Maybe he’d merely been expressing regret. Maybe he was sorry for having taken his daughter away when she’d been weak. Maybe he’d felt the need to confess to someone who would understand.
Oh, who was she kidding? There had been no love-making. They’d had sex.
Two people who had gotten caught up in the moment. Two people who had—
Then it had hit her like a baseball bat to the forehead.
She
had gotten caught up in the moment. However, he had come into that room after hearing her crying. He had reached out to her in comfort. He had hugged her, kissed her, touched her in all those pleasurable ways because he felt sorry for her.
He pitied her.
Even now, as she maneuvered through traffic on her way home from work, the idea made her body flush hot with fresh embarrassment.
Chapter Ten
For three days, the box mocked her. It sat on the back counter in the kitchen, the spot where junk mail and sales catalogs tended to land. She’d plunked the box down right next to the ceramic bowl she used as the home-base for her car and house keys. The counter was located right inside the kitchen doorway, so she passed it each and every time she went into the room for a cup of coffee, or a meal, or a simple glass of water.
A constant reminder of Aaron.
A constant reminder of the promises she’d made to Izzie.
What did you do?
Izzie had asked.
Did you cry?
Izzie’s heart-wrenching questions rolled through Christy’s mind.
Aaron was grieving. Most certainly, he was crying. Although she doubted he would want anyone to know it. Men tended to think displays of sadness or grief somehow demeaned their manhood, so they hid these feelings and did everything they could to show the world a brave face. She’d seen it, time and again, in the parents of the children she cared for at the hospital. But the hearts of daddies were just as vulnerable, just as breakable, as those of mommies.
Were you lonely?
When Christy had lost Danielle, she’d felt lonely. But, moreover, she’d felt completely and utterly
alone
. Yes, there was a difference. At first, friends had flocked around her. But soon—all too soon—reaching out to others had no longer been an option since she could see she was a constant source of pain and suffering to those around her. She saw it in the expressions of her friends, neighbors, and co-workers. Interacting with her brought everyone down.
The grieving process is different for everyone. But statistically parents of deceased children took the longest to sort through the chaotic feelings, the guilt, the anger, the silent but overwhelming this-is-not-fair railings. Going through the steps took forever it seemed, until somewhere down the road, the sense of resignation settled in.
You didn’t get over it. You learned to live with it.
Christy knew exactly what Aaron was mired in.
Will you watch over my daddy?
Izzie’s sweet, innocent voice plagued her.
Will you be his friend?
The promise to be Aaron’s friend sat like a chunk of granite on Christy’s shoulders, and in the end, outweighed the embarrassment that had her staying away from the grieving man. And that’s why she’d stowed the box back in her car and was driving across town toward Aaron’s home in north Wilmington.
And as she rang the bell, she hadn’t given a thought to what she would say or what she would do; she only knew she had to begin fulfilling the promises she’d made to little Izzie who had been so worried about her father.
“
Christy
.” Aaron’s gaze widened, his lips parting in surprise.
God, he looked awful. The circles under his eyes made him look exhausted.
“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to visit. I brought lunch.” She balanced the box on one forearm, a few grocery items in a fabric bag slung over the opposite shoulder. She bustled past him. “I hope
Maybe he’d merely been expressing regret. Maybe he was sorry for having taken his daughter away when she’d been weak. Maybe he’d felt the need to confess to someone who would understand.
Oh, who was she kidding? There had been no love-making. They’d had sex.
Two people who had gotten caught up in the moment. Two people who had—
Then it had hit her like a baseball bat to the forehead.
She
had gotten caught up in the moment. However, he had come into that room after hearing her crying. He had reached out to her in comfort. He had hugged her, kissed her, touched her in all those pleasurable ways because he felt sorry for her.
He pitied her.
Even now, as she maneuvered through traffic on her way home from work, the idea made her body flush hot with fresh embarrassment.
Chapter Ten
For three days, the box mocked her. It sat on the back counter in the kitchen, the spot where junk mail and sales catalogs tended to land. She’d plunked the box down right next to the ceramic bowl she used as the home-base for her car and house keys. The counter was located right inside the kitchen doorway, so she passed it each and every time she went into the room for a cup of coffee, or a meal, or a simple glass of water.
A constant reminder of Aaron.
A constant reminder of the promises she’d made to Izzie.
What did you do?
Izzie had asked.
Did you cry?
Izzie’s heart-wrenching questions rolled through Christy’s mind.
Aaron was grieving. Most certainly, he was crying. Although she doubted he would want anyone to know it. Men tended to think displays of sadness or grief somehow demeaned their manhood, so they hid these feelings and did everything they could to show the world a brave face. She’d seen it, time and again, in the parents of the children she cared for at the hospital. But the hearts of daddies were just as vulnerable, just as breakable, as those of mommies.
Were you lonely?
When Christy had lost Danielle, she’d felt lonely. But, moreover, she’d felt completely and utterly
alone
. Yes, there was a difference. At first, friends had flocked around her. But soon—all too soon—reaching out to others had no longer been an option since she could see she was a constant source of pain and suffering to those around her. She saw it in the expressions of her friends, neighbors, and co-workers. Interacting with her brought everyone down.
The grieving process is different for everyone. But statistically parents of deceased children took the longest to sort through the chaotic feelings, the guilt, the anger, the silent but overwhelming this-is-not-fair railings. Going through the steps took forever it seemed, until somewhere down the road, the sense of resignation settled in.
You didn’t get over it. You learned to live with it.
Christy knew exactly what Aaron was mired in.
Will you watch over my daddy?
Izzie’s sweet, innocent voice plagued her.
Will you be his friend?
The promise to be Aaron’s friend sat like a chunk of granite on Christy’s shoulders, and in the end, outweighed the embarrassment that had her staying away from the grieving man. And that’s why she’d stowed the box back in her car and was driving across town toward Aaron’s home in north Wilmington.
And as she rang the bell, she hadn’t given a thought to what she would say or what she would do; she only knew she had to begin fulfilling the promises she’d made to little Izzie who had been so worried about her father.
“
Christy
.” Aaron’s gaze widened, his lips parting in surprise.
God, he looked awful. The circles under his eyes made him look exhausted.
“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to visit. I brought lunch.” She balanced the box on one forearm, a few grocery items in a fabric bag slung over the opposite shoulder. She bustled past him. “I hope
Similar Books
