The Christmas Arrangement

Fourteen

Emma:

The cabin was quiet after breakfast. Avery was perched on the floor, carefully lining up her little stuffed animals, brow furrowed in concentration. I was tidying the table when the sound of gravel crunching outside made both of us look up.

“They’re here,” Avery whispered, her small voice tight with uncertainty.

I froze, surprised at how quickly she seemed to shrink. But then I noticed something that stopped me in my tracks: her little hands clutched her fox tightly, and her eyes didn’t leave me. She didn’t want to go.

My chest tightened. We’d only met yesterday, only spent one night together, and yet… she already didn’t want to leave me.

I knelt beside her, keeping my tone gentle. “Hey… It’s okay,” I said softly. “I’m right here.”

Avery’s hands lingered in mine, squeezing just slightly as if testing whether I’d stay. “I don’t want to go,” she whispered.

My throat tightened, caught off guard by the raw honesty in her voice. “I… I know,” I said, a little breathless. “I know you don’t. I get it.”

Her grandparents were on the porch now, their expressions sharp, lips pressed tight. “Emma,” the grandmother said, voice precise, almost surgical, “we need to talk. About Avery. About this situation.” She flicked a disapproving glance at Kaden. “About him.”

The grandfather stepped forward, voice low but firm. “Emma, you don’t understand. Kaden isn’t suitable. Avery deserves stability, a proper family, not…”

“Not someone who just cares for her?” I interrupted, standing and keeping my eyes level with theirs. My voice was calm but firm. “She’s already made it clear she trusts someone. She trusts me.”

Their faces hardened. “You don’t know him well enough! You don’t know what you’re exposing her to. And you—” the grandmother jabbed a finger at me, “you are not her mother!”

“I don’t need to be,” I said quietly, surprised at my own steadiness. “But I can listen. And I can help. And right now, she wants me to be here. That’s the truth.”

Avery’s small voice trembled, cutting through the tension. “I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered, pressing closer to me.

I blinked, caught completely off guard. We had just met, yet here she was, showing me something fierce and brave: her trust. “I… wow,” I murmured, crouching to her level. “Okay. I get it. I’m not going anywhere right now.”

Her grandparents exchanged glances, frustrated and powerless in the face of the undeniable reality before them.

Kaden stepped forward, silent but firm. “She’s right,” he said simply. “You’ve seen her care, her patience, her attentiveness. You can argue all you want, but she has made a choice. And right now, she wants to be here.”

Avery’s little hands stayed in mine as I helped her gather her bag. She moved slowly, reluctant to leave the cabin and the quiet bubble we’d shared, her eyes flicking to me every few seconds like she needed reassurance.

“Do you want to bring your fox too?” I asked gently, holding it out.

Her face brightened slightly. “Yes,” she said, tucking it under her arm.

As she packed, I couldn’t help but marvel at her courage and trust. We’d barely met, yet she had allowed herself to be seen, to attach, to hope that someone she barely knew could be safe to care for her. And I… I felt the weight of that trust, surprised, humbled, and fiercely protective all at once.

Her grandparents hovered near the doorway, muttering under their breath, but Avery didn’t let go of me. She didn’t need to.

And for the first time, I realized something startling: maybe bonds this strong could form even in a day. Maybe trust like this could grow in hours, in moments. And maybe… I would do everything I could to honor it.

Avery’s little backpack hung from her shoulders, but she barely touched it. Her fingers clutched mine as we walked toward the door. Each step made her tremble slightly, her tiny body pressed close to me.

“I don’t want to go,” she whispered again, voice cracking.

“I know,” I murmured, bending down just enough to meet her gaze. “I know you don’t. But we’ll make this work. You’ll have your weekend, and then you’ll come back.”

She shook her head, tears spilling over, smearing across her cheeks. “I don’t want to leave you!”

I froze, startled at the intensity of her attachment. We’d only just met, and yet… she trusted me enough to show me this raw, fierce need. My chest ached, both with the weight of responsibility and the surprising tenderness of it.

Her grandmother stepped forward, voice sharp. “Avery, come on. You have to—”

“No,” I said firmly, stepping closer, letting my gaze meet theirs. “She’s not going anywhere until she’s ready. And right now, she needs to know someone’s listening to her. Someone she trusts.”

Avery buried her face in my arm, small hands clutching at my sleeves. “Please don’t let them take me,” she whispered.

“You’re safe,” I told her, voice quiet but steady. “I’m not letting go. Not unless you choose to let go.”

Her grandfather’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t step closer. Kaden moved silently beside me, his presence a wall of calm authority. He didn’t need to speak — his gaze alone made it clear we were united.

Avery’s grandmother’s lips pressed together, frustration simmering. “Emma, you can’t just—”

“I can,” I said, keeping my voice firm. “And I will. Avery has a right to feel safe. And right now, she feels safe here. That’s not negotiable.”

Avery sniffled, tiny hands gripping my shirt as we stepped onto the porch. Her little feet dragged slightly, reluctant to leave. “I don’t want to go,” she whispered one last time.

“I know,” I said softly, brushing her hair from her tear-streaked face. “I know. And I’ll be right here when you get back. I promise.”

Kaden guided us toward the car, silent but steady, his hand hovering protectively near mine. Avery leaned against me, her small body trembling as she was gently ushered toward the car. I held her a moment longer, letting her cling to me, whispering reassurances into her hair.

The grandparents muttered, anger clear, but Avery’s resolve and my calm defiance left them powerless. She didn’t want to leave, and I wouldn’t let her feel alone in this.

As the car door closed, I waved, holding her gaze until it was the last thing I could see. My chest tightened with the unexpected ache of parting — not because she was mine, but because she had already trusted me enough to show me how much she needed someone to listen, someone to care.

Kaden stepped close, quiet, letting me lean against him as we watched the car pull away. His hand brushed mine, a silent promise that we were both standing for her, for this fragile, new bond.

“She’s brave,” I whispered, still surprised. “And she’s… incredible.”

He nodded, voice low but steady. “Yeah. She is.”

And even though Avery was leaving, even though the weekend would stretch between us, I knew one thing: that bond — fierce, small, and utterly real — was already ours. And nothing could take that away.

Kaden:

The moment the car door closed with a soft click, I let out a slow, controlled breath, though the tight knot in my chest didn’t loosen. Emma’s fingers still curled around Avery’s little hand, and my gaze was locked on her. The way she’d held her ground, the way Avery had clung to her… hell, it made my chest ache in ways I didn’t even want to name.

“Get dressed,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. She blinked at me, confused, still hovering in that afterglow of defiance. “We have somewhere to go.”

Her brow furrowed, lips parting in that slightly exasperated way she always did when she was questioning me. “Somewhere…?”

I stepped closer, letting my hands brush against her shoulders just long enough to emphasize the seriousness behind my words. “Yes. Somewhere important. We have… time to catch up, and plans to make. Don’t think you get to stay in your hoodie all day.”

Emma let out a small laugh, sharp and incredulous, but there was a spark in her eyes—the same spark that had made Avery refuse to let go. “You mean… we’re not done playing heroes for today?”

I smirked, shaking my head. “No. Not done. But this time, it’s on our terms. And… we’ve got a weekend to get our stories straight for court, remember?” I let that hang between us, letting the weight of it sink in. “How we met, how we got engaged… ring shopping, learning about each other. All of it.”

Her chest rose and fell a little faster as she nodded slowly, accepting it, her lips tugging into a smile I couldn’t quite read yet. “Alright. Fine. I’ll get dressed.”

I stepped back, giving her space, but my eyes stayed locked on hers, because damn it, I still wanted to memorize every inch of her defiance, every curve of that smirk I loved seeing when she thought she was getting the upper hand. My jaw tightened as I forced myself to look away before I could overstep.

As she disappeared into the bedroom, I leaned against the wall and watched her through the slightly open door, the image of her holding Avery still burning bright in my mind. The grandparents might have taken Avery for the weekend, but Emma… she had my attention. She had both of us exactly where we needed to be.

And this weekend? It was ours. No interruptions. No distractions. Just us, catching up, building our story, and—if I could manage to keep my impulses in check—maybe figuring out exactly how we were going to survive this… together.

I took a slow breath, letting my hands drop to my sides. Time to drive her somewhere she couldn’t argue with, somewhere she couldn’t escape, somewhere that would solidify all the plans we’d only just started whispering about.

Yeah. This weekend was going to be interesting.