Bullet ✔️

Chapter 43

To reacquaint myself with myself, I started working again. And with winter coming in fully, so did the bookings. I had three weddings one weekend, and two more engagement shoots who both wanted me for their summer weddings next year, and I was forgetting about my heartache and trauma as I practically drowned myself in work.

Though I loved it, it was overwhelming to go back to such a tight schedule, so I was relieved when Elina called after I'd booked another wedding with the loveliest sounding couple in the world.

"Hello," she chirped, the sounds of bells and James' laughter in the background, "I was wondering if the ever-so-busy Isabelle had time to spend Christmas Eve with James and me."

My eyes widened as I realized I hadn't noticed it was Christmas. "Oh, I didn't even—"

"No need to worry," Elina cut me off, "it's next Thursday, and Damian won't be here. In fact, he's leaving on Monday to go on some boys trip with Michael. Something about booze and gambling." I could practically hear her eye roll, and I found myself chuckling at it. "So, you're coming, right?"

"I'll bring wine," I told her as an agreement.

She clapped her hands in delight, and I heard James laugh again, as she said, "Perfect!" James cut through the noise of bells and whatever else was going on in the background, and said, "I'll make sure she doesn't burn the turkey."

I laughed again. "Sounds good."

Snow covered the driveway in front of Elina and James' house, making it look, if possible, even more idyllic. The evergreen bushes in their backyard were covered in a thick layer of snow, making it look magical out there, as more snow kept falling from the blue sky. Winter was lovely. Fall had always been my favorite season, but the beauty and purity of snow always had me smiling—even now with all that had been going on.

The kitchen smelled like herbs and roasted turkey and homemade red sauce, which was nice. What was even nicer was the fact that James, with flour on his nose, couldn't ever seem to not touch his wife. I just sat there smiling, looking at the loving couple celebrate their first Christmas together as husband and wife.

Elina whacked him with a dish towel when he grabbed her ass, motioning towards me with a serious look, and said, "We have company, James, behave!"

The man had a mischievous gleam in his eye as he winked at me, kissed Elina's cheek, and replied, "As you wish, Mistress." The images I got in my head from that word made me blush. It wasn't hard to figure out Elina wielded a whip around the house, and in the bedroom, but I could've made it just fine without the visuals.

She just laughed at him, though, and turned to me with a wink of her own before ordering me to help set the table for dinner. Happily, I obliged, and started folding red napkins for all three of us, while moving the Santa decorations and fairy lights so there would be room for all the food.

"I'm so happy you said yes, Isabelle," Elina chirped as she sat the last serving tray of goodies on the table and found her seat across from me. James sat at the head of the table, already pouring wine for all of us. "I was afraid you'd sit at home and forget the Holidays with how much you've been working lately."

"I'd honestly forgotten already, when you called," I admitted, grimacing a little to show my guilt.

"Then I'm glad I gave you that much time to get us gifts!" She chuckled, and I did too, because I was of the exact same opinion—even if it was really hard to find something worthy of them both.

And for Damian. I'd picked up a present for him too, and a small one for Billy, as well as some flowers that I'd put on my parents' graves early that morning. I knew they'd wilt fast in the cold, but I wanted them to know I missed them, and wouldn't ever forget—if there was a way they would know. Billy was getting a scarf from me, and I'd already asked James to hand it over if I didn't see him soon myself. But Damian's present...I hadn't been so lost on what to get anyone for years, but when I ended up getting him some matte black cuff links with his initials, and a cheesy gift certificate for homemade massages—as a hint of where I was standing—I was pretty happy with myself. Even if it wasn't too original.