Wicked Love | √

Thirty Six

"HOW did you know I've always wanted to do this?" I ask Preston, with wide eyes and a permanent smile tattooed across my lips, as we walk hand in hand through the massive crowd gathering in midtown New York.

Families. Couples. Tourists. Everyone's here and the cold winter air is suddenly filled with an energy that buzzes through my veins. It's excitement I quickly realize. Pure, unadulterated excitement.

His hand squeezes mine twice, and the worry and the fear that continue to fight to stay at the forefront of my mind calms a touch as I force myself to focus and soak in the excitement that surrounds me. We are only a week away from the masquerade. One week before I know everything will change. So until then I'm trying to embrace the happiness, embrace Preston as much as I can.

"Aiden told me," he replies easily.

The mention of my brother warms my chest but also pulls at my wounded heartstrings. "He did?" My voice sounds surprised. Shocked that he even remembered.

When I was little I would always talk about going to the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree Lighting all the time. I loved the holiday. The lights. The trees. The decorations. It was all so magical to me as a little kid. But my parents always called it a tacky tourist trap and refused to ever take me.

Preston's thumb traces over my knuckles. "He loves you a lot Jameson," he tells me earnestly.

I nod knowing it's the truth, but still finding it difficult to digest. Aiden was once my sweet and kind little brother, until one day he wasn't. Until he pushed me away and became hard and cold. Until I was convinced he hated me. Until all I felt was alone.

Until I also became hardened and cold to the outside world.

I know why he did what he did. But that doesn't make it any easier at the end of the day. He's been giving me space, and keeping his distance. And I won't lie, I've been letting him. I haven't been ignoring my brother, but I haven't been trying to reach out either. I've also not been attending family dinners at home anymore.

My mother's been calling me, but I let her go to voicemail. It's been three weeks since I've last stepped foot inside my house. Three weeks since I've seen or spoken to either of my parents.

The last time I saw my mother still replays in my mind. She was trying. It wasn't enough. It still isn't enough to be honest. But that doesn't mean I don't think about it. Think about what our relationship could maybe become if or when I am ever ready.

Preston's hand slips from mine and wraps around my waist tightly as we come to a slow stop. The crowd continues to grow around us as we look up at the insanely large unlit tree. It somehow seems even larger in person. The cold wind whips around us, but he holds me close helping to keep me warm.

"Are you okay?" he whispers in my ear. He could clearly see the way I fell into myself for a moment as I thought about my family.

But I don't want to talk about that right now. I want to stay in the happiness, stay in this moment with Preston. So I lean back into his chest and turn so our eyes meet. "I know it's cheesy, but I want to do this every year for the rest of my life," I confess to him ignoring his question. Because I'm not okay.

"And we will do this every single year," he promises me with such fervor it makes my heart leap in my chest.

My eyes flutter close for a second as contentment soaks through my skin. "I just love how excited everyone gets. The energy around it. Christmas was my grandfather's favorite holiday and he always talked about how magical it can feel," I explain letting the memory of my grandfather fill me with warmth and love.