Christmas With My Ex (Stuck For the Holidays)

17. Rives

SEVENTEEN

Rives

Shepherds in the fields / The night watch they would keep / Till angel voices sang / Glory to the King.

Monday, December 25

8:22 am

The soft rustle of movement stirs me awake. The faint scent of fragrant espresso beans reach my nose before I even open my eyes.

I blink slowly, the warm haze of sleep still clinging to me as I adjust to the morning light filtering into the room. My heart skips a beat when I hear his voice before I see him.

“Merry Christmas,” Nicholas’s voice comes softly, and when I finally open my eyes, he’s standing beside the bed, a tray in his hands with coffee and breakfast neatly arranged.

I blink again, trying to wake up fully, and I can’t help the small smile that creeps across my face. Every woman should be so lucky to wake up to this view.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” I murmur, my voice still a little groggy. "And Merry Christmas to you, handsome elf."

Nicholas shrugs, but his smile is warm and genuine. “I figured you might be hungry after your workout last night. Plus, it’s Christmas. Breakfast in bed seemed appropriate.”

He gently places the tray down beside me, and I sit up, pulling the blankets around me. He grabs a T-shirt out of his bag and hands it to me.

The tray is simple but perfect—a steaming cup of what looks like a latte or maybe a cappuccino, a plate with scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit. There’s even a little sprig of holly on the side of the plate, and I chuckle at the thoughtfulness of it all.

“You really went all out,” I tease, but there’s a warmth in my chest that I can’t ignore. The simplicity of the moment, the thoughtfulness behind it—it overwhelms me in the best way.

Nicholas sits down on the edge of the bed, his eyes soft as they meet mine. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

I reach for the coffee, taking a slow sip, letting the warmth of it spread through me. There’s something about this moment—this quiet, intimate Christmas morning—that makes my chest tighten with emotion. It’s not just the coffee or the breakfast. It’s him. It’s us.

“Thank you so much,” I whisper again, my voice catching slightly. I'm slightly overwhelmed, not used to anyone doing so much for me.

Nicholas’s hand moves to mine, his fingers gently wrapping around mine as he leans in a little closer. “You okay?”

I nod, but my throat feels tight, and I have to blink back the sudden sting of tears. It’s silly, really. But after everything we’ve been through, after all the ups and downs, being here with him— this —it’s almost too much. The kind of too much that’s both overwhelming and beautiful.

“Yeah,” I say softly, my voice trembling just a bit. “I just, I really appreciate this.”

His brow furrows slightly, concern flickering across his face. “It’s just breakfast, Rives,” he rightfully gives me a hard time.

I shake my head, smiling through the tears that are now threatening to spill over. “True. But it's incredibly thoughtful. And, unlike me, you didn't disappear leaving me alone in your room.”

He looks at me for a long moment, his expression softens. "I see what you're saying, but there is no way to deny we've come a long way," he draws out the "o" in long, "since this time yesterday. I had to earn your trust back."

“Well, you have,” I respond matter-of-factly. I lean in and kiss him. There is nothing I can say that will convey how much this seemingly small gesture means to me.

His words settle into me, and I can’t stop the single tear that finally slips down my cheek. Nicholas reaches up, his thumb brushing it away gently, and I lean into his touch, feeling the tenderness of it, the care in every small movement.

For a moment, neither of us speaks. We just sit there, the weight of everything between us hanging in the air, but not in a bad way. It’s a shared understanding, a quiet acknowledgment of everything that’s passed between us and everything that’s still to come.

“Where's your food?” I ask, suddenly stingy and not wanted to share.

He smiles again, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “I actually brought some! Let me grab it and strip down and I'll join you in bed. If that's okay, of course?”

"Hurry up! I'm hungry."

He stands up and leans down to kiss me before running into the living area.

I close my eyes, letting the warmth of his kiss settle over me. Merry Christmas to me.

9:32 am

Nicholas lies next to me, his arm draped across my waist, the warmth of his body against mine comforting.

We’ve just finished breakfast, and things couldn't be more perfect.

I take that back—it isn't as perfect as it could be. I’m still harboring a secret so big that it could drive him away before we even get a chance to see where this will go.

I stare up at the ceiling, the lingering taste of coffee on my lips and my mind racing. The familiar gnaw of guilt twists in my chest. I’ve been avoiding this moment, putting it off for as long as I could. But now, lying here in this quiet, peaceful space, I realize I can’t hold it in anymore.

I have to tell him. Now.

Even though it’s Christmas. Even though everything feels like it’s finally falling into place. I can’t keep carrying this and expect to have a fully clean slate unless I come clean.

Especially not after I made such a big deal about him not being completely honest with me. I'm not normally a hypocrite or a coward, but I'm certainly acting like both now.

My heart pounds in my chest, and I try to swallow the lump forming in my throat. My fingers trace the edge of the blanket, nerves rattling through me. Nicholas is so close, his steady breathing keeping me grounded, but I know this could shatter everything.

He shifts beside me, glancing over with that same easy smile from earlier. “What can I get you?”

I nod at first, but it feels like a lie. I close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe. “Nothing, sweetness. But I have to tell you something, something that will hurt you, and it's killing me.”

The smile fades from his face, concern flickering in his eyes. He props himself up on his elbow, watching me carefully. “What’s going on? You can tell me anything.”

Why does he have to be so goddamned kind?

This is it. There’s no turning back now. I take a deep breath, gathering the courage to say what I thought I would never tell him. Mainly because I thought that was another life, that we would never intersect again. But now that we have, he deserves to know.

“Please hear me out before you react,” I start, my voice barely above a whisper. “This is something I should’ve told you a long time ago, like five years ago.”

His expression shifts, growing more serious. He waits, giving me the space to speak, but I can feel the tension in the air already.

I sit up, pulling the blanket around me as if it’ll protect me from what’s about to happen. I stare down at my hands, willing them to stop shaking. “When we broke up, about a month or so afterwards, I found out I was pregnant.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and sharp, and I can see the confusion flash across his face. His eyes widen, but he doesn’t speak. He’s waiting for more.

“I tried to reach you,” I continue, my voice trembling. “I called you, but you didn’t pick up."

"What are you saying? What did you do?"

"Nicholas, I missed my period and I got a test to take at home. The same day I tested, not even an hour after getting a positive test, I found my mother dead in her bed.”

My throat tightens as the memories flood back, memories I’ve tried to bury for years. I'm crying now, unable to hold back the tears. He hasn't said anything since his initial question.

The weight of it all crashes over me again, even after all these years. “I didn’t have time to process the pregnancy. I couldn’t even think about it with everything that was happening, dealing with my mom. I spent weeks in a fog, trying to deal with her death, trying to figure out how to keep going.”

I glance at him, his face unreadable, but his eyes are filled with something—shock, maybe, or hurt. I’m not sure, because he is a steel trap.

"I called you that day because I needed you. I found out I lost the woman who gave me life on the same day I learned I was carrying one of my own. I called you but you didn't answer, and you didn't call me back."

"Did you leave me a voicemail, 'Hey, I found out I'm carrying your baby?' Because if you did, I must has somehow missed that."

"Nicholas, please. I don't remember what I said, I was probably crying, begging you to call me. I don't remember. But I know you were the first person I wanted to hold me, to tell me what to do, and you were nowhere to be found."

"That's not fair. We had broken up. I didn't know why you were calling."

"I guess not. I must have called you twenty times, and you never called me back. Maybe if you had, I wouldn't be confessing this to you right now."

"So, I'll ask you again. What did you do, Rives!?"

“By the time I had the bandwidth to come up with a plan, it had been weeks. You didn’t answer. I figured, maybe it wasn’t meant to be. So, I made a decision.”

Nicholas finally speaks, his voice low and strained. “What decision, Rives?”

I swallow hard, blinking through the tears. “I had the baby. And I gave him up for adoption.”

The silence that follows is deafening. I don’t dare look at him, afraid of what I’ll see in his eyes. Anger? Betrayal? I don’t know. I just know that I can’t take it back. I can’t undo what’s been done. And I can't unsay what I've said.

"Who has him? Where is he?" he demands.

“It was a private adoption,” I continue, my voice shaking. “I didn’t know anything about the family. I signed away all rights. I thought... I thought it was the best thing to do.”

I glance at him, and his expression is a mix of emotions—shock, confusion, pain.

“You gave our baby away? My baby?” he whispers, his voice barely audible. "I would have adopted him. You had no right to give him away!"

I nod, tears streaming down my face. “I didn’t know what else to do. I was grieving my mom. I was alone. And you weren’t there. I didn’t think you wanted to be.”

His brow furrows, and he looks away, processing everything. I can see the questions swirling in his mind, the disbelief in his eyes.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” I whisper, my heart aching. “I know I should have. But it was too late, and I thought you were better off not knowing by the time I had him.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and I can feel the fear building in my chest, the fear that this is it, that this confession will be the thing that breaks us. All the progress we’ve made, all the love we’ve rebuilt in this powder keg these last few days won't sustain this news.

Finally, he looks at me, his eyes filled with pain but also something else... something softer. “I honestly don't know what to say, Rives.”

“I don't blame you,” I admit, my voice breaking. “I never thought we would be together like this again. I'm so sorry.”

Nicholas runs a hand through his hair, his jaw tight, and I can see the struggle in his expression. He has so many questions, I can tell, but for now, he’s quiet, letting the weight of the confession settle in.

I wipe at my eyes again, my heart pounding in my chest. “I would give anything to go back in time.”