It’s Mother-Pucking Christmas!

25. Dakota

25

DAKOTA

I avoided Ryder for the next few days, feeling worse and worse as the hours ticked by.

He texted me nonstop, sending videos and pictures of Dasher, telling me about the senior citizen shenanigans, giving me updates on the meetings he had with recruiters for the big NYC team, forwarding me articles he thought I’d be interested in.

My plan had been to ease off, dial it down, then break the news right before the big game against the Arctic Avengers. But it was like the more I pulled back, the more he came at me.

I was pushing my lasagna around on my plate two days before the big game, hating myself and my life and trying to ignore my nosy family.

“Are you sick?”

“Are you pregnant?”

My mom and my aunts fussed over me.

Gracie wrapped a scarf around my neck. “Is it Ryder?”

“You better not have done anything to that boy,” Uncle Nate warned as my dad commandeered my plate and parceled out my uneaten food to the rest of the family. “The recruiters are going to be at the next game. Ryder can’t afford any distractions. That’s what being a hockey girlfriend is about.”

“Dakota is employed. She’s more than Ryder’s girlfriend,” my aunt scolded him.

“Unless she wants an unemployed ex hockey player living in her house, she’s going to have to do some compartmentalization,” Nate said flatly.

My aunt kissed him. “I had an unemployed hockey player living in my house, and he was fiiine-uh !”

“It was my house,” Granny Murray declared, “and you were sneaking Nate into your room. You hid him under the bed one time like I wasn’t going to be able to find out. Like he didn’t stink to high heaven after hockey practice.”

“Ryder said he wanted to be a stay-at-home dad though, right?” Gracie said.

My aunt immediately went gaga. “Babies!”

“Oh, Dakota!” One aunt came at my uterus with some essential oils. “A new life!”

I had to fight her off.

“More importantly,” my cousin Logan said, draping an arm around my shoulders, “Ryder’s on my team for the holiday family match. You can’t drive him away being mean and bossy. Aunt Babs!” he shrieked as I stabbed my fork at him.

“He’s not wrong, Dakota. You’re hard on men,” my mom admonished. “And Ryder’s not like those Manhattan men you like to date. He’s a nice boy. He’s a good boy.”

“Do we really have to cheer him on at the game?” my uncles complained.

“I’m wearing his jersey,” my mom said, crossing her arms, “and I expect that the rest of this family is going to support him as well.”

“Then we are done, woman!” my dad thundered.

My mom grabbed the spatula from the lasagna pan, brandishing it violently.

“I mean… we are done with this, uh… poorly functioning kitchen. I mean, who has a white fridge anymore?” my dad said hastily. “My god. Yes, I think we need a new kitchen for Christmas. I got that Christmas bonus, after all. I know I said I was buying a boat, but you are worth it.” He kissed her then sat down meekly.

“Nice save.”

“Shut up,” he hissed at his brothers.

I sighed, miserable.

My parents argued, but they loved each other, always had each other’s backs—and ours.

I’d always wanted that. Could have had it with Ryder. I mean, how could I just throw away a man like that?

“ We wish you— ” the doorbell shrieked.

“Fuckin’ hate that doorbell,” my father muttered as my second cousin’s little kids raced, screaming, to the door.

“I’ll get it!”

“Dakota! Your boyfriend’s here!” They raced back to the dining room, still screaming.

“Did you just leave him outside?” my cousin scolded them as I slowly hauled myself out of the chair.

Was I really going to go this?

My brother made puppy-dog eyes at me and pointed to his finger, miming chopping it off.

For my little brother? Anything.

Ryder was standing on the porch. He gave me a small, worried smile when he saw me.

I was the person who played a brutal game of lacrosse in high school and had no problem cussing out catcallers on the streets of Manhattan. But the expression on Ryder’s face almost broke me.

It was like Dasher’s when we had dropped him off at the pound, like he knew what was coming but still had a shred of hope that it wasn’t.

Ryder leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. Everything in me wanted to wrap my arms around him and never let go.

But that would be leading him on.

“The scouts for two big NYC teams want to fly me out,” he said conversationally. “That’s where you work, right? If I joined, we could be together.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to be in the NHL,” I croaked.

“I don’t know if they even want me yet, but I could save up some money if the contract is big enough. Once I retire, we could buy a place in Maplewood Falls. You could do remote work,” he said. “And I could be with our kids.”

Children. Cute little blue-eyed kids—a whole pack of them—racing around with little hockey sticks. Ryder would be an amazing dad.

“This is going too fast for me,” I said miserably before my heart could take over and start excitedly planning our future.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Ryder slapped a gloved hand against his head. “Dakota, please, I didn’t mean to pressure you.” He took my hands in his larger ones.

“I just… I-I really like you. I don’t want to lose you. I promise I won’t be so serious. I know I screwed up. Please don’t leave me. I—You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m serious about you, is all. I’m serious about us. I didn’t mean to make you hate me.” His blue eyes searched mine. “Can you please give me another chance?”

I was the one who was fucking him over, and he was apologizing and asking me for another chance, like he’d done something wrong. My heart broke thinking about how that was probably how he’d acted whenever whatever sociopathic foster parent had kicked him out—my wonderful, perfect, sweet Ryder.

I am a shitty, shitty person. I am the used chewing gum stuck to the bottom of the Grinch’s shoe.

Ryder deserved someone good.

“I’m done, Ryder.” I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t face the heartbreak in his blue eyes, knowing I had caused it. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” His hands dropped. “It’s—” He rubbed his arm. “I know it’s my fault.”

I bit back the “No, it’s not.” Stamped down the “No, I’m sorry. I screwed up.” Held a knife to the part of me that wanted to run into his arms.

“I—Thanks, Dakota.” The sad blue eyes rested on me.

“What?” My head snapped up.

“You let me come over to your family’s,” he said, smiling at me gamely. “And hung out with me. It was really lovely. I’ll always remember that. You’re really cool, Dakota. Have a merry Christmas.”

I shut the door as quietly as I could behind me, snuck into my dad’s study, grabbed one of the holiday bottles of whiskey from the wet bar, and collapsed behind the Christmas tree in the living room.

I took a long swig from the bottle. Then another. Wanting to drown out those sad blue eyes.

“I’m a shitty person,” I slurred to Gracie when she found me hidden behind the Christmas tree, just me and my emotional support bottle of liquor.

“No, you’re not.” She rubbed my back.

“I broke up with Ryder.”

“Why?” Gracie cried.

I blinked away tears. I couldn’t throw my brother under the bus. Not yet. Not after I’d sacrificed everything. “I don’t know,” I lied.

My aunts crowded around. “You’re single again?”

“Dakota, you can’t keep doing this.”

“It’s a pattern. She has a pattern. It’s toxic behavior,” Violet shouted.

My uncles railed at me. “Right before his big game?”

“Dakota, what the fuck.”

My mom declared, “Well, I’m still supporting him.”

“Me too!” My aunts piped up in unison.

“You could have cost him his big chance!” Uncle Nate yelled at me. “You couldn’t wait until after Ryder got signed, Dakota?” He shook me. “You ruined his life!”

I started sobbing.

His wife shushed Nate. “Just leave her alone. We don’t know what happened.”

My little brother looked relieved and mouthed “Thank you.”

See? It was worth it for him, right? I was still a good sister at least.

Even if I was a terrible girlfriend and deserved to spend every Christmas alone then get run over in the middle of Main Street by a pack of rabid reindeer.