A Crazy Christmas by B. Cranford

Author:B. Cranford [Cranford, B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781981865727
Amazon: 1981865721
Goodreads: 36650682
Publisher: B. Cranford
Published: 2017-12-18T00:00:00+00:00

I will never be able to not love you.

The words sent a shiver down Brighton’s spine. Or perhaps it was the fact she was still stark naked, wet and cold. Whatever it was, the way her husband was speaking about her was allowing the flame of anger to burnout.

She’d been hurt when he’d asked about the shower, though her more rational self knew he didn’t mean anything by it. And maybe she’d overreacted, but she was alarmingly under slept, worried about Stella and still fighting with her body to return to her original weight.

People Magazine acts like it’s so easy.

She’d seen the magazines on the racks. Such-and-such celebrity back to their pre-pregnancy weight after two weeks. That wasn’t her. It would never be her. But, for some reason, she wanted it to be her.

So much, she was killing herself with doubt.

So much that, though she’d thought she’d never doubt him again, she couldn’t fight her fear that Sebastian would see every flaw, every bump, every mark.

As if it wasn’t already enough to be crying in the dark, when Stella and Sebastian both slept. Or pacing the hallway, listening for any sound coming from her daughter’s room. Shaking whenever the first cry broke whatever silence she’d managed to find.

Wondering if maybe, just maybe, becoming a mother was a mistake.

It’s not a mistake. It’s not a mistake.

Four words she repeated to herself over and over and over again, hoping that this time, they’d stick. That she’d believe them and be able to move on.

Dammit, her life was nearly perfect and still her heart and her head ached.

“Baby.” The warmth of Sebastian’s breath on her face as he spoke, made her realize that she’d closed her eyes. She opened them to find him still looking at her intently. “What do you need?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, struggling to find the words she needed. “Sleep?”

It was probably the best place to start. At least without sheer exhaustion coloring her every thought, she might be able to look at things from a different, a better, angle.

“Okay, Bright Star. Sleep.” He reached for another towel, wrapping it around her body once he’d pulled it loose. “Dry off. I’ll be right back.”

“‘Kay.” A yawn escaped her as she spoke, her “okay” nearly lost to a deep inhale. And, while he disappeared in his wet suit, she toweled herself off, grabbing a second towel for her hair and made her way into the bedroom. She could hear the murmur of voices, but nothing that told her what was being talked about.

My mental breakdown, probably.

Dropping one towel back in the bathroom, uncaring for now that it was in a heap on the floor, she used the second one to protect her pillow—unwilling to let water seep into it as she slept, but too tired to bother with drying her hair. Then, with a heavy sigh and a twinge of pain in her chest that reminded her she wasn’t perfect, or even close, she pulled back the covers and slid between the sheets.

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