Snowed In with the Second Chance Daddy

Christmas is all about surprises. But I never foresaw having a baby with my ex…

Iris Galleto moved to Seattle less than a year ago and never gave me or our relationship a second thought.

Why should I give her a second chance?

Sure, it’s Christmas, the most magical time of the year, and making peace for our
goddaughter, Rose, would be very mature of us, but even being in the same room
with her is an exercise in patience that I can’t pull off.

And that’s before our jabs turn to flirting, the flirting turns to teasing, and the teasing turns
into the kind of tension that can only be resolved with a kiss.

Except this is us, and a kiss would never be enough.

Pretty soon, we are hooking up again, even though I know this is a mistake I’ll regret.

I keep telling myself that I can’t wait until she leaves Chicago again.

 But
when she does leave, it’s too late. She’s already carrying my child…

I hate Christmas in Chicago.

Unpopular opinion, I know. But I’ve seen enough of them not to be fooled by the sparkly lights and holiday cheer. It’s all a front, trying to conceal the underbelly of overspending and expectations.

The happy families lining up for ice skating or cider at the Christmas market are a front. Because, let’s face it, how many of them can actually be that happy? 

I brace myself against the cold as I exit the revolving door of my office building, shoving my hands into my pockets and dipping my face behind my woolly scarf. 

They might not have named it Windy City for the actual wind, but they may as well have. There are few things worse than wind-burned cheeks.

Other than going to work or going home, I’ve been trying to stay inside as much as possible. However, Oliver and Rowan won’t let me live it down if I skip our weekly midday lunch, especially this close to Christmas. 

I love them like family, but I have to say I’m not looking forward to all their bubbly excitement. Now that they have a baby, Christmas is more of an event than ever. 

As their daughter’s godfather, last year’s Christmas was one of the best of my life. 

Rose’s godmother was still in the picture, though. 

This year’s just going to suck being around the Hawthorns and all the bliss of their relationships and parenthood. 

I’m a Grinch now. And I won’t apologize. I think I’ve earned it. 

My brain is on autopilot as I navigate downtown Chicago and, before I know it, I’m at our usual diner. 

Oliver and I have been coming here weekly since we started our respective jobs, him as the operations officer at his family’s company, me as a portfolio manager at a hedge fund. 

The door dings open as I enter. 

Rowan and Oliver are already at our usual table. They don’t even notice I’ve come in, cuddled up on the same side of the booth together, her hand rubbing circles on his chest, alternating between whispers and tiny kisses. 

I ignore it and go up to the table. “Sorry I’m late.” 

They break apart. 

“Trevor, we didn’t see you come in!” Rowan says, a breathless smile on her face. 

“How could you have when you’re using your lunch break to get started on baby number two?” I smirk as I shrug off my coat and slide into the booth across form them.

Oliver’s face contorts. “Gross, dude.” 

I laugh. “Tell me I’m wrong!” 

Oliver’s cheeks go red, turning his attention to the window while Rowan giggles, rubbing the back of her husband’s neck. “Life is busy! We have to take every second we have.” 

Hard to believe Rowan was once mine. Even harder to imagine I was so utterly broken up over her breaking up with me. 

Don’t get me wrong, finding out Rowan was not only working for my best friend but dating him was a blow to my ego, but that was years ago. 

So much has changed. Oliver and Rowan are the perfect couple, and I genuinely feel blessed that we’re as close as we are. Best friends. 

Difficult to not feel like a third wheel these days, though. 

We order our usual, cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes all around. 

Now that I’m in my thirties, I’ll feel the milkshake the rest of the day, which is why I’m glad now that I’m at the top of the totem pole at the fund I can take the rest of the day off. 

“You’re coming for Christmas, right?” Oliver swipes a fry through the glob of ketchup on his plate. 

I sigh. “Begrudgingly, yes.” 

Rowan’s jaw drops open. “Begrudgingly?” 

I take my time responding, attending to my burger, taking a  sip of my shake. “Relax. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.” 

“I wouldn’t put it past you to spend Christmas alone.” Oliver’s gaze hardens on me. 

I wouldn’t either, if I’m honest. In fact, I thought about it. 

Oliver’s family has treated me as one of their own since we met in college. Fifteen years ago now. 

And I’ve always been grateful for the way they’ve integrated me into the fold. 

The issue is, if I wasn’t the odd man out before, I definitely am now. 

Oliver and his brothers are now married with kids of their own. His dad too, after grieving Oliver’s mom for a decade. 

I’m not married. I certainly don’t have a kid. 

I was supposed to be married by now, though. 

It’s hard to shake the pain of that when I get to witness all their happy endings. 

“You know Christmas wouldn’t be the same without you,” Rowan says with a sweet smile. 

I know her better than to think she’s just being nice, but seriously, why would a big happy family want the single sad sack who isn’t even related to them hanging around? 

“Especially for Rose,” Rowan adds. 

Rose, my beautiful goddaughter. “I doubt Rose is going to remember this Christmas. No offense, guys.” I divert my attention to my plate. 

Oliver scoffs. “There will be pictures. And she’ll wonder where Uncle Trevor was.” 

“Yeah, well, what about Aunt Iris?” My voice dips low and more disdainful than I mean it too. 

The table goes silent. 

Rowan and Oliver freeze. 

I ignore it at first, eating, knowing that it’s a bit of a mic drop to bring up my ex-fiancée, who is also Rowan’s best friend. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve mentioned her since I ended things. For six months, her name has been like a curse, a conversation killer. 

However, even if I throw Oliver and Rowan off with a mention of her, they are usually quicker than this to try and smooth things over. 

I lift my gaze to the pair. 

Oliver is leaning on his elbow, chewing on his thumb nail, and Rowan’s eyes are wide, teeth gnashing on her lower lip. 

Those are tells if I ever saw them. 

“What?” 

“Nothing! Nothing.” Rowan tries to laugh it off. She pushes her half-finished plate of food away. “Just, um, well…” She looks at Oliver. 

So, I look at Oliver, narrowing my eyes. “What?” 

Oliver’s eyes flutter shut. “Goddammit. Fine.” He rubs a hand over his five o’clock shadow, straightens up, and looks me in the eye. “Iris is going to be in town for Christmas.” 

My insides lurch. “In town? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Rowan swoops in. Of course, she does. The two of them are a team. 

I miss being part of a team. 

“She’s going to be at Christmas. With…us.” 

Now my appetites been usurped.