Page 69 of Witchy Woman

I’d even get a few words from her. Which was triple what I’d get on a regular basis.

The inside of the house is covered in garlands. Alive and thriving garlands. They twist around each other and move softly with the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.

It’s like Mother Nature threw up in here. And I like it. Which is a testament to how soft Ash is making me.

Christmas music blares from the living room and I softly step toward the stairs. I’ll revel in the festive vibes, but only once I change clothes.

I’ve been sleeping on the ground, for goodness’ sake.

I strip off the cold clothes and snuggle into my red, floor-length dressing gown. It may be a bit dramatic, especially for meeting Ash’s dad, but this is me.

I’m not hiding who I am anymore or trying to be anyone else.

But I also wear a tank top and long pants underneath it.

Belle winds around my legs as we walk back downstairs. She probably smells Ash on my skin, the little trollop.

I swear she meant to pick him but got confused by the soulmate bond.

Hazel and Grandma sit in the living room by the tree in pajamas, giggling over coffee. It’s a pretty picture, like something out of a magazine.

And I still don’t feel like I fit.

“Dear, I barely heard you. Come, sit, we’ve been waiting until you arrived to open gifts.” Grandma waves me over. I delicately sit on the floor opposite Hazel, Belle curling around my back.

“I figured we’d do our gifts now and then when Noah comes over we can do more broad presents,” she continues.

“And Ash and his dad,” I say.

Grandma’s mouth lifts in a conspiratorial smile. “I didn’t realize your overnight date was going to turn into a daytime invitation. But seeing as he is your soulmate, I would like to get to know him.”

“The more the merrier!” Hazel hands a gift to Grandma.

It’s a gentle acceptance that makes my eyes water. I covertly wipe the tears with the sleeve of my robe.

Grandma gives Hazel a smile and opens the box, chortling when she opens the top. It’s an animal skull with a long snout. “The skull of an Odocoileus virginianus!” She turns to both of us with a smug smile. “Or more commonly known as a white-tailed deer.”

God, they’re weird.

“Well, if Grandma is in the spotlight...” I say, handing her the slightly heavy box covered in Snoopy Christmas wrapping paper. Most of the inside is fluff to make sure her gifts didn’t shatter.

She handles it gingerly, as if she subconsciously knows the contents are fragile. A small gasp escapes her as she sees the tea kettle. “It’s beautiful, Laura.”

Something warm and gooey unfurls in my chest at the joy on her face. Knowing I did that, that I showed someone I cared about them? After last night with Ash, and today with Grandma, it may be becoming a habit. I don’t think I mind.

Hazel scoots the next gift my way. It’s from her, if the excited look on her face is anything to go by.

I try to make my smile as genuine as possible as I pick apart the wrapping paper. Inside the box is a bubblegum-pink Brother SE700 sewing machine. It’s a beautiful model, and perfect for my hobby of making little accessories.

But it’s pink.

Even Ash knows pink isn’t really my favorite, and I didn’t have to tell him.

But why would she know any different? I’ve practically shoved pink down people’s throats since I was a kid because I know it’s expected of the blonde, bubbly baby sister.

I hate that I’m realizing we were never open with each other. We were never real. We may have always loved each other, but we never knew each other.

And we still don’t.