All Chapters of Never go to a tattoo artist if bad luck is following you: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Five years later...I’m lying diagonally on the bed with my head resting on James's stomach, which keeps making strange noises. "James, honey, just so you know, if you're hungry, you can go down to the kitchen."My boyfriend makes a face. "But your parents are downstairs. It embarrasses me to go down and act like it’s my house."I prop myself up on my elbows and raise my torso to look James in the face. "Are you serious? We’ve been together for over seven years. Seven! You practically have residency here. You even have a group chat with my parents where you exchange embarrassing photos of me, and you still have the nerve to be embarrassed."James puts a hand on my face and pushes me back down onto his stomach. "These are trivial details, Brianna."In response, I lick his hand to make him remove it. "Do you want me to walk you downstairs while holding your hand too?" I tease.James grimaces. "No, be

December 1st"Do you really want to host Christmas at our place?" James looks at me, skeptical."Why not? We've just finished furnishing the new house; it seems like a nice way to inaugurate it.""But it's a house with stairs," James protests. "And your grandparents are getting old now. Plus, you're incredibly unlucky."I roll my eyes. The first house we lived in together didn’t have any stairs—not even a single step at the entrance since it was a small apartment. Practically heaven for him. But then we wanted a little house, and now we’ve got porch steps and an internal staircase. Every time he has to go down, he prays. He’s so dramatic. He’s only fallen twice so far... and we’ve been fully moved in for just a week."The old house was too small to host both of our families. Here, everyone fits. And don’t worry about my grandparents; they’ll outlive us all, one after the other." I roll my eyes again. Alcohol hasn’t killed them; stairs certainly won’t."Brianna, aren’t you thinking abo

December 3rdI wake up with James’s arm around my waist and his breath warm on my neck. Facing the windows, I immediately notice the snow falling outside. I smile, feeling the festive joy bubble inside me. Carefully, I move his arm off my waist and slip out from under the covers, instantly shivering. Trying not to make a sound, I grab one of his hoodies for warmth and quietly leave the room, shutting the door behind me. I yawn as I head downstairs to the kitchen, silently praying I don’t trip on the stairs—not this morning, at least.I prepare the pancake batter, and as I start cooking, I set the kettle and the coffee machine going. My plan is to serve breakfast in bed for James, though considering my clumsiness, I decide to take it up in small batches. When everything’s ready, I place a tray on James’s bedside table, followed by the plates of pancakes, and finally, the mugs of hot drinks. Once all is safely in pl

December 5thI adjust my hat as I crouch behind the reindeer, trying to spot my target.James and I organized a snowball fight, and we’re joined by Aisha and Jeremy.My boyfriend declared war on me after I beat him twice in a row, reaching 100 points first. A hit to the face earns 10 points, a hit to the back 15, and any other body part 5 points. To his credit, I dressed completely in white to blend in.The garden is eerily quiet, so I peek out from behind the reindeer to look for James or Aisha, but the coast is clear. I scan the decorations and choose the snowman as my next hiding spot.Ironic, isn’t it?But it’s big enough to tower over me.Not that it takes much, mind you.Still, it was a great purchase. I’ve got a nose for deals.Before I can move, I feel two hits to my back.“That’s 30 points!” My brother’s little voice rings out.I turn

December 7thI step into the house, leaving my jacket and shoes at the entrance. I greet James and head toward the kitchen, hiding my purchase behind my back. "Guess what I bought?"James is leaning against the counter, holding a cup of coffee in his hands. "Tell me it’s not another Christmas decoration," he pleads."Nope, better," I say, sitting at the table. "I bought a house."He chokes on his drink. "You bought what?"I snicker at his expression. "A house. I bought a house, not 'what'.""You... You bought... How... With what money..." He takes a deep breath, sets the cup on the counter, and sits across from me at the table. "Brianna, I think you owe me a few more details." He’s so shocked that he’s gone a little pale.At that point, I place my new purchase in front of us, revealing a gingerbread house kit to assemble and decorate.James looks at me, then at the box, and back to me. He&rsqu