Page 72 of Breaking the Ice

Her comment isn’t lascivious, but her little smirk and the knowing smile she shares with her friends makes my cheeks heat. Or maybe I’m just remembering the way Evan greeted me when he got home from Michigan. Repeatedly.

“Um, yeah. We’ve been married for a little over a month,” I tell her, trying to school my features so it doesn’t look like I’m thinking about having sex with my husband.

“Not to come across like a stalker, but I was totally following the whole thing on social media.” Akari laughs and tucks her sleek black hair behind her ear. “Okay, that sounds way more disturbing out loud than I intended. But it was so romantic.”

Akari sighs, clasping her hands under her chin.

Her friend Megan playfully shoves her shoulder. Her messy bun bobs on top of her head. “Way to be a creeper and make a good impression on the new girl.”

“No, that’s okay,” I hurry to reassure. “I don’t make the social media posts, that’s Evan’s thing, but we’re really thankful for the exposure. The university, and the athletic department in particular, needed some good press so we’re happy to be a part of it. It’s a fun way to document our love story.”

Does that sound rehearsed? Ms. Barnes’s PR team coached me on what to say. I’m an actress, I thought I’d be better at this.

“So tell us about your first Christmas together.” Regan’s eyes light up as she jiggles her daughter and switches her to her other hip. The baby makes a gurgling noise that’s, frankly, alarming, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it. “What did you guys do? What was it like?”

“I remember our first Christmas,” Akari says. She’s petite, almost swallowed by her oversized sweatshirt. She could be a model, with her gorgeous, delicate features, and eyes so dark I can’t tell where the pupil stops and the iris starts. They take on a dreamy cast now. “It was when Logan proposed. There was a horse-drawn carriage and everything. So romantic.”

There’s a collective sigh, and then an awkward pause. My story is not going to live up to that.

“We were in high school for ours.” Megan jumps in and saves me with a roll of her hazel eyes. “Still just kids. I’m pretty sure Jake got me perfume from Victoria’s Secret, which I thought was so scandalous at the time. It was sweet, though.”

We all laugh, the tension breaking. But a bead of sweat rolls down my back and settles in my waistband. Sure, there’s Hamilton and lingerie, but what if they find out we weren’t actually together on Christmas Day? Is there a way to spin this? What would Ms. Barnes say?

MacKenzie winces. “Ours was so stressful. I’m from California, right, and Liam grew up in North Carolina. Things were getting pretty serious between us, so he flew home with me for Christmas to meet my folks, but our flight was delayed, we ended up stuck in the Atlanta airport and missed a connection. Then when we finally did get to L.A., we were gross and exhausted. We’d been up for, like, thirty-nine hours or something at that point.” She perks up. “But my dad said that he knew Liam was a good guy after that because he got us through everything. So I guess it had a silver lining.”

Megan pats her on the arm and smiles, and we turn to the next person in the circle. Which gives me more time to think about what I’m going to say. Can I fake an emergency before I have to come up with a story?

“Gosh, it feels like our first Christmas was forever ago.” Regan bounces the baby, then looks at me. “Rakesh and I met at Harrison as freshmen, and now he’s doing his grad work. So we’ve been together for six years. This was Anjali’s first Christmas, though, so that made it extra special.”

She tickles her daughter under her chin, delighting in her high-pitched laughter. “I know she won’t remember it, but it was so fun to watch her open presents and explore, even if she didn’t understand it.”

Everyone’s gaze flies to me as she finishes speaking. Shit. My face is on fire. Is it hot in here?

“Well, um, our schedules were actually pretty crazy. So, ah, Evan plays hockey, and my dad is the coach. They only have a few days off. And no one knew we were getting married.” I give a nervous laugh. I can’t stop rambling, and their eyes just grow wider as I keep talking. “I’m sure our families would have changed their plans if, like, they knew they were getting new in-laws. But we had to split up.”

“Wait.” Akari’s brows narrow. “What do you mean?”

“Both of our family events were at the same time and about six hours apart. What were we supposed to do?” I raise my hands in a shrug, smiling like this is totally normal. But their furrowed foreheads say it’s not.

“You didn’t spend your first Christmas together?” Megan asks, her confusion morphing into concern. “That’s so sad.”

MacKenzie reaches out and pats my shoulder. Guilt churns in my belly. I’m the biggest fraud, taking their sympathy when I’m barely married. “I’m so sorry no one could change their plans. That sucks. In-law stuff can be really hard.”

“Did you and Evan get to do something to celebrate, just the two of you?” Regan looks like she could cry. “Even if it’s not on December twenty-fifth, I hope you get a special moment.”

I swallow down my disappointment and imposture syndrome. “Yeah, for sure. He surprised me with a quick trip to Chicago to see Hamilton.”

Regan gives me a reassuring smile. “There’s a lot to juggle all at once, isn’t there? Being married. In-laws and maintaining friendships but still putting each other first. Movies make it look easy, like once you find your happily ever after, it’s all sunshine and roses.”

Megan huffs a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“Marriage is hard work.” Akari looks across the room at her husband, and her eyes soften. “It’s totally worth it but do your best to make time for each other. Make your own traditions.”

Do I want to make my own traditions with Evan? Will we still be together next year to repeat them?

I gaze over at Evan, engrossed in a conversation with a group of men. He’s so handsome, my knees go weak. He waves his arms as he describes something—probably a hockey play, but knowing him, it could just as likely be the plot of an action movie or the punch line of a joke. He’s not a typical jock—not a typical anything.

Just like our marriage is far from typical. I appreciate their advice, but this conversation reinforces the fact that we did everything out of order and didn’t even do our first Christmas right.