Chapter Eight

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Emily:

The fall semester of my freshman year of college had come to an end, and I had three weeks off to catch up on some much needed rest.  I was passing all of my classes, something I thought wasn't possible if I became involved with a guy.

But Vincent Graves was no ordinary guy. He was a big part of the reason I was excelling in my work, because he helped me with the subjects I was weaker in. He told me almost every day that he believed in me, and that he wanted to help.

Our relationship was strong and beautiful, one that didn't require sex to keep it together. Vincent was a perfect gentleman when he was around me.  His only concern was making sure we both succeeded.

My family had grown very fond of him as well, even going as far as to invite him to Christmas dinner.  I was sitting in the living room with my little brother, watching Home Alone 2 while Vincent assisted my parents in preparing the table.

We sat down to dinner ten minutes later. My father said grace and we began devouring the ham that had been baking since early this morning.

Everything was absolutely wonderful; the dinner, the company, and the conversation.  Vincent fit into our family like a puzzle piece, which was both wonderful and a bit unsettling.  Even though I adored him, I wasn't ready for things to get too serious between us. I had to focus on my studies.

Besides, there was still so much I didn't know about him.  When we talked about ourselves, he usually went on about his favorite books or food.  I noticed he was very close-mouthed about his past, and it made me think back on Hope's theory that the man in our report was actually Vincent's father.

If that were the case, I would hope that Vincent didn't think he had to hide it from me. I'd never judge him based on his past, whether good or bad.

"Emily, are you still with us?"  My mother suddenly asked, tearing me away from my thoughts.

I blinked and nodded.  "Yeah.  Sorry about that."

"She was thinking about what Santa's going to bring her tonight."  Robbie joked, nudging my ribs.

Vincent looked over at me with a smile. "What do you want Santa to bring you this year?"

"Some Tylenol and a 4.0 average."

My father chuckled. "Santa can swing the Tylenol, but you'll have to get that average yourself."

We finished our lovely dinner, then went into the living room to open our gifts. My parents bought me a pair of pajamas, a new laptop for school, and a set of very expensive pens. They even bought a couple of gifts for Vincent, a red coffee mug and a Christmas tie with a picture of Frosty the Snowman.

These were small gifts that most people would brush off as last minute ideas, but as Vincent held them in his hands, I could see tears in his eyes. "Thank you so much, Mr. and Mrs. Hayden," He choked, using the back of his hand to dry his eyes.

My father stood up and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in for one of his famous hugs. "You don't have to thank us, son. We appreciate you, and everything you do for Emily."

Vincent sniffled. "I'm sorry to be so emotional, but this is the first Christmas present I've ever gotten."

He looked like he regretted the confession as soon as it left his lips.  He rubbed the back of his head.  "Oh, but that's because my parents were JWs."

"What are JWs?"  Robbie asked.

"Jehovah's Witnesses."  Vincent answered.

My father released him.  "I hope I'm not desecrating your religious beliefs by giving you those gifts."

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