Chapter 10 - Christmas Morning, One Year Later
At 6:11 Christmas morning, Noah began screaming.
Sebastian opened one eye.
Claudia remained perfectly still beside him.
“Your son,” she murmured.
“Our son.”
“He has your lungs.”
“He has your temper.”
Claudia opened one eye.
“Dangerous sentence.”
Sebastian smiled.
Then he got out of bed.
He had moved back into the house six weeks earlier.
Not the Greenwich estate.
They had sold it.
Claudia had expected to feel sad when the papers were signed.
Instead, she felt relieved.
The enormous house had represented everything they once believed success should look like.
Their new home was smaller.
Warm.
Messy.
There were toys beneath the sofa and fingerprints on the refrigerator.
Sebastian loved it.
He returned carrying Noah.
The baby immediately reached for Claudia.
“Traitor,” Sebastian whispered.
Noah laughed.
Then the bedroom door burst open.
Sophie entered wearing Christmas pajamas.
“He’s awake!”
“We noticed,” Claudia said.
“Presents.”
“It’s six in the morning.”
“It’s Christmas.”
Sebastian checked the clock.
“She has a compelling legal argument.”
They went downstairs.
Four stockings hung above the fireplace.
Claudia.
Sebastian.
Sophie.
Noah.
Sophie stopped beneath them.
“Wait.”
She disappeared into the kitchen.
When she returned, she carried a fifth tiny stocking.
Sebastian frowned.
“Who is that for?”
Sophie looked at Claudia.
Claudia covered her mouth, laughing.
“Sophie.”
“What?”
“You promised.”
Sebastian looked between them.
“Promised what?”
Sophie pointed dramatically at Claudia.
“She has a secret.”
Sebastian’s face changed.
Claudia had planned to tell him after breakfast.
Perhaps with coffee.
Perhaps privately.
Apparently ten-year-olds were unreliable co-conspirators.
Claudia reached behind a cushion and pulled out a small box.
Sebastian stared at it.
“What is happening?”
“Open it.”
Inside was a photograph.
An ultrasound.
Sebastian stopped breathing.
“No.”
Claudia smiled.
“Yes.”
He looked at her stomach.
Then the photograph.
Then back at her.
“How?”
Sophie made a disgusted face.
“I know how.”
“Sophie!”
“What? School exists.”
Sebastian started laughing.
Then crying.
Then laughing again.
He crossed the room and knelt in front of Claudia.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“The doctor?”
“Everything looks good.”
“How far?”
“Ten weeks.”
“You’ve known—”
“Six days.”
“And Sophie knew?”
“Twenty-four hours.”
Sophie nodded proudly.
“I almost made it.”
Sebastian rested his forehead against Claudia’s knee.
One year earlier, Christmas morning had found him alone in a mansion with his wife’s wedding ring on a desk and his daughter’s handmade mug in his hands.
Now Claudia threaded her fingers through his hair.
“You’re doing it again,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Trying to solve everything at once.”
He looked up.
She smiled.
“Just be happy.”
So he was.
Later that morning, after presents had been opened and Noah had fallen asleep beneath the tree, Sebastian found Sophie sitting by the window.
He sat beside her.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Last Christmas.”
He nodded.
“Me too.”
“I thought you were going to choose Porsche.”
Sebastian’s chest tightened.
“I know.”
“But Mom chose us.”
“Yes.”
Sophie thought about it.
“And then you chose us.”
Sebastian looked at her.
“No.”
She frowned.
“No?”
“I should have chosen you long before anyone had to leave.”
Sophie leaned against him.
“You’re smarter now.”
“Marginally.”
She giggled.
Across the room, Claudia watched them.
Sebastian caught her eye.
There had been a time when Claudia believed a happy ending meant discovering that the terrible thing had never really happened.
That there had been no betrayal.
No neglect.
No lies.
No damage.
She knew better now.
The terrible things had happened.
Sebastian had neglected them.
He had allowed another woman too close.
He had hidden things.
Claudia had left.
Their son had entered the world while their marriage was breaking apart.
Marcus had betrayed a fourteen-year friendship.
Porsche had crossed boundaries.
Trust had been shattered.
None of that vanished because the ending became beautiful.
Perhaps that was what made it beautiful.
They had not returned to the marriage they had before.
They had built another one.
At noon, snow began falling.
Sophie ran outside.
Sebastian followed carrying Noah.
Claudia stood beneath the porch roof watching them.
The scene reminded her painfully of the previous Christmas Eve.
Snow.
A car.
A suitcase.
A little girl holding her hand.
A man standing behind them, too late to understand what he was losing.
Sebastian looked back.
“You coming?”
Claudia touched her stomach.
“In a minute.”
He walked toward her instead.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She smiled.
“Just remembering.”
He knew immediately.
His expression softened.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I’ll probably always be sorry.”
“I know that too.”
He looked toward Sophie.
“She still has Mr. Bun.”
The battered stuffed rabbit sat on the porch.
Claudia laughed.
“He survived.”
Sebastian took her hand.
“So did we.”
Claudia looked at him.
“No.”
He frowned.
She stepped closer.
“We didn’t survive.”
Then she smiled.
“We changed.”
Sebastian understood the difference.
Sophie shouted from the yard.
“Family picture!”
Sebastian groaned.
“I hate pictures.”
“You own four framed photographs of yourself receiving awards.”
“That’s documentation.”
Claudia laughed.
They joined Sophie.
Sebastian held Noah.
Claudia stood beside him.
Sophie squeezed between them.
Daniel raised the camera.
“Ready?”
“Wait!” Sophie shouted.
She ran toward the porch and grabbed Mr. Bun.
When she returned, she placed the rabbit in Noah’s arms.
“Now everybody’s here.”
Daniel lifted the camera again.
Snow fell around them.
Sebastian looked at Claudia instead of the lens.
She noticed.
“Camera’s over there.”
“I know.”
“Then look at it.”
“In a second.”
He kissed her forehead.
The camera clicked.
That became Claudia’s favorite photograph.
Not because everyone looked perfect.
They didn’t.
Noah was grabbing Sebastian’s collar.
Sophie was laughing.
Claudia’s hair was blowing across her face.
Sebastian wasn’t even looking at the camera.
But everyone was there.
That evening, after dinner, Sophie brought out the old navy mug.
BEST DAD, EVEN WHEN YOU’RE BUSY.
Beside it sat the newer one.
BEST DAD. LESS BUSY.
Sebastian stared at both.
“I’m sensing a theme.”
Sophie handed him a third package.
He opened it cautiously.
Another mug.
Across the front, she had painted:
BEST DAD. FINALLY HOME.
Sebastian could not speak.
Sophie hugged him.
Claudia looked away because she was crying.
Noah clapped for no reason whatsoever.
And somewhere between Sophie’s laughter, Noah’s squeals, and the soft Christmas music playing in the kitchen, Sebastian finally understood something no boardroom had ever taught him.
Being needed was not the same as being loved.
Being successful was not the same as being present.
And a house was not a home simply because your name was on the deed.
A home was the place where people still expected you to show up.
He had nearly learned that too late.
But not quite.
That night, after the children were asleep, Claudia stood by the living-room window watching snow cover the yard.
Sebastian came behind her.
“Next Christmas,” he said, resting a hand gently over her stomach, “three kids.”
Claudia turned.
“Terrified?”
“Completely.”
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“Means you finally understand the assignment.”
He laughed.
Then he kissed her.
Outside, the snow kept falling.
Inside, four stockings hung above the fireplace.
A fifth waited folded inside Claudia’s dresser for the baby they had not yet met.
And for once, Sebastian’s phone was nowhere in the room.
He had left it upstairs.
On purpose.
Because there was nowhere else he needed to be.
May you like
And no one else he was waiting for.
He was already home.
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