BEAUTIFUL MESS [Book 2] | MIKHAIAH

8

A few days later, Christmas Eve found Amaia, Mom, and I gathered around the coffee table in the living room. On the sofa, Amaia was sitting next to Mom looking puzzled as I placed a miniature Christmas tree on the table.

"It's more festive for present-giving," I explained to her.

She pointedly glanced at the huge decorated pine in the corner. She gave me a tight smile and then clenched her jaw. She clasped her hands in her lap and I saw her knuckles start to go white.

"Here comes Santa Claus," Dad said, coming downstairs with a red sack. He beamed as he ho-ho-ho'd at us while handing out shining little gold-wrapped packages. I tore into my gift as soon as I got it and emerged victorious with a new keyring of a Mustang.

"Cool. Thanks, guys," I said. I looked at Amaia holding her giff. I leaned over and tapped her leg making it flinch. "Open it," I said quietly when she glared at me for startling her.

"I was just being polite." She assessed the progress of my parent's opening their presents before taking a long swallow and running her fingers under the edge of the paper. "Mikaila, a quick word?" she said, glancing at me.

She was headed to the kitchen before I had a chance to answer. Climbing off the floor I followed her, aiming myself at the fridge where I knew there was leftover pudding.

"What's the protocol here?" Amaia asked, cornering me and the leftover dessert.

"Protocol?" I said around my spoon.

She grimaced at me. "Gift-giving. I didn't—I'm not..." She huffed. "I wasn't prepared to hand out gifts."

I smiled and took her hand. "You don't have to get anyone anything. No one is expecting you to."

She pulled her hand away. "Expecting me to? Meaning you all assumed I was going to boycott Christmas and say bah humbug?"

"Meaning there was, and is no pressure for you to buy gifts. Hell, I can't even afford to do that anyway. We're med students, Aiah."

Her eyes shifted to the emptier pudding bowl as she hummed a response.

I recaptured her hand. "It's okay. Spending the day with you is all I want."

She looked back to me and smiled. I responded by giving her a chocolatey peck on the lips. She sighed and rested her forehead against mine.

"I'm not entirely broke," she whispered a short time later.

Blinking a little, I was confused. Scholarships only went so far. I was prevented from questions by my mother gate-crashing the kitchen.

Amaia gave her a quick smile and made her excuses to leave the room.

"Here," Mom said, thrusting something at me in the kitchen as soon as she left.

I frowned at the ring now in my hand. "What—" It was Mom's engagement ring. I nearly dropped it. "What? No. I'm not—we're not—really?"

Mom smiled and closed my hand around the ring like she was nervous I was going to drop it and lose it under the oven.

"I want you to have this for whenever you're ready."

I thought of the accidental proposal-sounding words I uttered a couple of days ago. I'd be lying if I said the thought of marriage and Amaia hadn't crossed my mind a few times a day since. Especially since being home. The change in Amaia when visiting my parents' home was remarkable. Here she was relaxed, less-defensive, and incredibly affectionate. I couldn't put my finger on why that was. It was something I should probably work out before asking her to commit her life to me.