Page 7 of The Scrooge Effect

Tears filled her eyes, and for the first time this season, I felt like shit. “Santa is…he’s a…like a jolly reminder of…I mean, he’s…it’s like a dream, right?”

“Santa’s a dream? You mean I made him up?”

Harper was so going to kill me.

“No, I mean…he’s alive in your heart.”

“Someone killed Santa?” she screeched. “Why would anyone kill Santa?”

She ran crying from the room, and I slid my fingers over my head in frustration. “Way to go, Edu. You just guaranteed yourself no sex for the next year.”

Leaning against the shower wall, I tried to forget all the crap with my father. If I was going to make it to the end of this year, I needed to get ahold of my shit. I was failing at winning Father of the Year, and coming in a close second was my failure as Husband of the Year. It wouldn’t be long before they all moved out because they were sick of my shit.

Cool air rushed over my skin as the door opened to the bathroom. The last thing I wanted was to see Harper. We’d only end up arguing, and then I’d hate myself even more for not being able to give her what she deserved.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft and so fucking endearing.

I didn’t deserve her or the way she put up with my bullshit.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine. Did something happen?”

Shutting off the water, I slid the curtain open and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my waist. “Why would you think that?”

She pulled the envelope out from behind her back, her fingers running along the seam. “I didn’t open it.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would.”

“It’s nothing. Just paperwork from my father’s estate.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “And you’re throwing it out?”

“I don’t want anything from him,” I said, shoving past her and pulling open the door.

I busied myself with getting ready so I wouldn’t have to answer any more questions. But no matter how much I rifled through my drawers or spent an inordinate amount of time picking out underwear, I could feel her gaze on me, waiting for me to give her something.

“Do you want me to take care of it?”

I slammed my drawer shut, turning to face her. “Why would I want you to do that?”

“So you don’t have to deal with anything about your father.”

“I’m not a kid, Harper. I can deal with my own shit.”

“But you’re not. You’re just running from it. Throwing it out isn’t going to make it go away.”

“Look, the lawyer can bring more paperwork around until he’s blue in the face. It’s not gonna make me suddenly forget about all the crap my father put me through and decide to have anything to do with what he left behind. I don’t need this, and neither does Eden.”

“I agree, but⁠—”

“But nothing!” I snapped. “That’s the end of it. It’s over and done with.”

“Edu—”

I didn’t want to hear another word about it, so I pulled on my sweats and headed downstairs. After quickly slipping on my shoes, I went outside for a run to clear my head. I was being an ass to the one person who loved me unconditionally, and I knew it.