Bianca was now four, and this would be the first Christmas without her mother. God, I would give just about anything to squeeze her tight, to let her know she was loved. Even though Matteo was warmer than either of our fathers had been growing up, it didn’t come close to the type of affection a child needed to thrive. And from what I’d heard, he had been distant, closed off, since Allegra’s passing.
I couldn’t say I blamed him; the circumstances of her death were still unsettled, and he felt responsible. Allegra’s ties to our family were ultimately what had gotten her killed. Spending time with his girls had to be painful, knowing he couldn’t protect their mother, wondering if one day, he wouldn’t be able to protect them either.
As much as I missed them and would have given anything to see their tiny faces light up when they discovered the bounty of gifts left by Santa, I couldn’t go home. I’d been lucky to make it out at all, and returning was too risky.
The last thing I needed was for my father to find out where I was. The man didn’t have a moral compass, and I wouldn’t put it past him to kidnap his own daughter.
As long as I was alive and unwed, I was an asset to him.
I shivered, and it took my brain a minute to catch up. Lost in thought, I’d been standing in the shower for so long that the hot water had run out, and I was now being pelted by a freezing spray from the showerhead.
Fucking fantastic.
Rushing through the process of washing my hair and soaping my body, I rinsed off, but not before my skin went numb. Teeth chattering, I grabbed a towel, rubbing it over every exposed inch, hissing when tingles erupted, letting me know I was getting feeling back.
When I stepped into the bedroom, a strange yapping sound caught my attention. Shrugging it off, I tugged on flannel pajamas, shoving my ice-cold feet into thick wool socks.
Maybe tonight, I’d get a chance to test out the gas fireplace in the living room. Most nights, I got home so late that there wasn’t time to relax. It was a quick shower and straight to bed before repeating the process all over again, so I hadn’t been able to enjoy lounging before a roaring fire on a cold winter’s night. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d turned on my TV.
That’s how sad my life was— viewing a quiet night in as a luxury experience.
Whatever. At least I was living life on my own terms, which was not something I could’ve said a year ago.
Making my way downstairs, the yapping got louder.
What the hell was that?
Moving around the kitchen and living room, I was able to track it to the shared backyard for this row of townhouses. It was pitch-black outside—even though it was only six; our days were short, just past the winter solstice—so I couldn’t see what was making the noise, but it finally clicked what the source was: a puppy.
Greaaaaaaaat.
One of the neighbors must have thought it a brilliant idea to get their kids a puppy for Christmas, and now I’d be kept up all night by its constant barking.
Closing my eyes, I prayed that it wouldn’t be one of the ones on either side of me where we shared a wall. After taking a cleansing breath, I flicked the switch on the floodlight thatwould illuminate the backyard, and I’d be able to peek through my sliding glass door to see who the little yapper belonged to.
“What the fuck?” I yelled before opening the door so forcefully that it was a miracle the glass didn’t shatter.
“Babe! He loves the snow!” an all-too-familiar voice shouted back.
Digging the heels of my palms into my eye sockets, I hoped that when I pulled them away, I’d discover this to be some kind of hallucination brought on by exhaustion.
Okay. On the count of three.
One.
Two.
Three.
Oh, fuck no.
A few feet away, a golden-haired puppy and a golden-haired man were rolling around in the foot of snow that had accumulated over the past few days.
This is not happening.
“Sasha,” I drew his name out in warning. “What did you do?”
Blue eyes sparkling in the light shining on him, he stood, hefting a snow-covered furball into his arms. “Merry Christmas, baby! Do you love him?”
