BooksBarbecue
Back Baggage Claim
Chapters (48)
  1. 1. One
  2. 2. Two
  3. 3. Three
  4. 4. Four
  5. 5. Five
  6. 6. Six
  7. 7. Seven
  8. 8. Eight
  9. 9. Nine
  10. 10. Ten
  11. 11. Eleven
  12. 12. Twelve
  13. 13. Thirteen
  14. 14. Fourteen
  15. 15. Fifteen
  16. 16. Sixteen
  17. 17. Seventeen
  18. 18. Eighteen
  19. 19. Nineteen
  20. 20. Twenty
  21. 21. Twenty-One
  22. 22. Twenty-Two
  23. 23. Twenty-Three
  24. 24. Twenty-Four
  25. 25. Twenty-Five
  26. 26. Twenty-Six
  27. 27. Twenty-Seven
  28. 28. Twenty-Eight
  29. 29. Twenty-Nine
  30. 30. Thirty
  31. 31. Thirty-One
  32. 32. Thirty-Two
  33. 33. Thirty-three
  34. 34. Thirty-Four
  35. 35. Thirty-Five
  36. 36. Thirty-Six
  37. 37. Thirty-Seven
  38. 38. Thirty-Eight
  39. 39. Thirty-Nine
  40. 40. Forty
  41. 41. Forty-One
  42. 42. Forty-Two
  43. 43. Forty-three
  44. 44. Epilogue
  45. Afterword
  46. Also by
  47. Acknowledgments
  48. About Author

“Poor man’s poker?” Finn said, inflection rising at the end to make it sound like a question as he pointed at the circle of money that probably added up to seven dollars.

“Alright.” I shrugged and plopped in a seat between Dad and Finn, ready to play.

33. Thirty-three

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Olive was snuggled into my side on our end of the couch as we watched Chevy Chase put up Christmas lights. The movie played brightly on the large TV in front of us, illuminating Olive’s face. Several times throughout the movie I caught her smiling or quietly laughing and I knew, this girl may claim to hate all things Christmas, but there was a Holiday Cheermeister somewhere in my Little Grinch.

Matt and Taylor sat on the large lounge chair, her propped in his lap.

Denise and Tom had both fallen asleep on the opposite end of the couch.

Sarah sat at the foot of the chaise, and Logan was in between her legs as she pet his hair.

But Olive and I were in the corner of the sectional, my arm around her shoulders, her head on my shoulder with a hand in my lap.

It was blissful, being surrounded by a large family and having this kind and beautiful woman next to me. It felt like I was glimpsing into the future, with my wife curled into me with our family spread out around us.

The problem was that Olive wouldn’t end up being that girl at my side. And the thought of that made me sick.

The movie faded to credits, and Denise stood and headed into the kitchen. She yawned. “Does anyone want coffee?” We all sleepily agreed and followed her.

Logan and I leaned against the kitchen counter with our mugs, while Olive and Taylor spoke to each other in the dining room. Olive laughed and reached a hand out to Taylor. She had her head thrown back and tears sprang from her eyes. She lit up the entire house, and I was caught in her trance.

Logan shifted next to me, pulled out a small red box, and dumped the contents into his coffee, and it caught my attention.

I nodded to his mug. “What was that?”

He looked down at his mug and chuckled. “Oh, I usually put Red Hots in my coffee. I always said it gave it a kick, you know?”

He stirred the contents in his mug, but my mind snagged on something Olive had told me before.

My ex used to put Red Hots in his coffee.

My ears heated. No. No way. It couldn’t be him.

I looked up to Olive, and when I took in her bright red face and wide eyes—I had my answer. A fury like I had never known burned through my chest.

I turned to Logan. “It was you?”

34. Thirty-Four

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Christmas Eve, three years ago

“Please, stop. You’re killing me.”