Chapter 26 #2
“You know for a fact that it is, baby girl,” Hendrix says with a wink that makes her blush even harder.
Bullshit, I want to say. The only thing bigger than the enormous dildo is his ego.
Dierdre snatches it right out of Syn’s grasp. “That’s mine.”
“Mom!” Syn yells in mortification.
It’s surreal to hear her still call Dierdre that.
But that’s who Dierdre was to her for years, in every true sense of the word.
Syn lost one mother but was lucky enough to have found another.
Mama Petrov was like that for Aleksei and me, but it wasn’t the same.
Mama loved me in a special way that no other person ever could.
The loss of her, missing her, hits me the hardest on holidays.
I don’t think that kind of pain will ever fade, no matter how many years pass.
My heartache is still as sharp as the night I found her.
“What?” Dierdre asks innocently, stroking the dildo like a cat.
Syn covers her scandalized face with her hands. “Oh my god.”
Tristan glances over my way with an amused smile and a shake of his head, as if to say, our sister is nuts.
The grin I’d been wearing falls away.
Because this isn’t my family.
I’m the outsider.
Syn’s unwelcome invited guest.
An intruder who doesn’t fit within this holiday familial picture they create.
Index. Middle. Ring. Pinkie.
Meticulously pulling at the tape so it doesn’t rip the gold foil paper, Constantine takes his time unwrapping the small box Syn hands him. Lifting the lid, he dangles the lace red panties from his finger. “I prefer black Calvins.”
Dierdre is eager to grab them as well. “I’ll take those. What?” she says when Syn’s eyes widen with shock. “Cillian will like them.”
Syn’s mouth drops open, and she slaps her hands to her ears. “I don’t want to hear about you and Cillian having sex.”
Wait. Dierdre…and Cillian? He’s like twenty years older than she is.
I scowl down at Tristan, his returning expression about as happy as mine hearing the news.
“Says the woman who has three husbands and f—”
Tristan pops up and pulls Dierdre with him. “No more eggnog for you. Let’s get some coffee in your system.”
“But I want to see what the other presents are,” she whines as he shoves her out of the living room.
Hendrix pulls Syn into his lap and soundly kisses her. “I never saw that one coming.”
“I did. The cookout at the house. It was totally obvious she was mooning all over him.”
His face scrunches. “I don’t remember Dierdre mooning anybody.”
Syn loses it and laughs so hard, she snorts—which is fucking adorable—and it makes her laugh even harder.
“It means Dierdre had a crush on him, not thrusting her bare ass in his face,” Constantine replies.
“I’m happy for her. She’s been alone for too long.”
For a brief moment, my gaze drifts to the Christmas tree and all the handmade ornaments Syn and Dierdre made to hang on it. Good memories they get to look back on and reminisce about every year when they decorate it.
I wish Aleksei was here. It’s the first Christmas I’ll spend without him.
Fuck, how that hurts. His absence feels bigger than the universe, the void he left deeper than a bottomless pit.
My twin is like a lost limb—not there even though I feel him like he was.
Too often, I’ll go down to his apartment, expecting him to be there.
I find myself talking to him, telling him about something that happened, only to realize that he’s not standing beside me.
I may share blood with Tristan and Dierdre, but we don’t share any memories like Aleksei and I did. We don’t share the bond that twins do. It’s like a huge part of me is missing.
I’m half of a whole.
Incomplete.
Broken.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Suddenly needing some fresh air, I bound off the couch and rush out the front door. As soon as I get outside, my lungs pull in deep gulps of air. Bracing the porch railing, I close my eyes and count backward from ten, hoping like hell I can stop the imminent freakout I feel coming.
Suddenly, strong, feminine arms wrap around me from behind. “You okay?” Syn asks.
I shake my head. “No.”
She ducks under my arm, wedging herself between me and the railing.
Cupping my face between her hands, her touch is the lifeline I desperately need to bring me back from the brink.
“In and out. Breathe with me,” she says, inhaling slowly in counts of three, then exhaling in counts of five.
“It’s okay if you need to fall apart. I’ll be your safe place. ”
Goddamn this woman. Why does she have to be so…perfect?
Not able to hide my vulnerability from her, I choke out, “I miss them so fucking much.”
I don’t have to say who. Somehow Syn knows.
Moving her hand down to my chest, she splays it over my heart. “They’re always with you right here. I know they are,” she says, touching her chest with her other hand. “Because that’s where Mama and Papa are. Close your eyes and listen. You can hear them with every beat of your heart.”
I follow her instructions and focus on the sounds around me. The hush of the falling snow. The creak of tree limbs in the wind. Syn’s soft breaths. The beat of my own heart.
I love you, my sweet boy, Mama’s voice whispers.
Will you fucking kiss her already? I grin when I hear Aleksei. Typical.
When I open my eyes, Syn’s beautiful face fills my vision.
“I forgot you had a small scar right here,” she says, tracing the faint raised line that mars the underside of my jaw.
She said almost the same thing to me the night at the gala when I asked her to dance.
Her fingertip moves higher and brushes across my eyebrow.
“When I first saw this, I thought it was a mole. Why a star?” she asks about the tiny star tattooed in the corner of my left eye.
“Mama and I used to go out into the gardens right after the sun set and wait for the first star to appear.”
Syn’s smile is like sunshine breaking through the darkness. “Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight. The wishing star.”
I nod.
My breath tangles and stutters to a standstill when she rises on tiptoe and softly kisses the corner of my eye before lowering back down.
“What did you wish for?” I ask.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t come true.” Slipping something out of her sweater pocket, she holds it out to me. “Merry Christmas.”
“Dildos aren’t my thing.”
Laughter spills out of her. “I promise, it’s not that. It’s not much. I made it.”
I take the thin rectangular box from her hand and read what’s written on the small tag attached with tape. To Aleksander. From Syn. She made me a gift?
“Do you want me to get yours?”
I didn’t know what to get her, so I asked her friend Raquelle. I had a silver charm bracelet custom-made for Syn, along with some charms to go with it. A rooster, a songbird, a phoenix, a book, a stethoscope, baby booties, and a flower.
“I like opening presents on Christmas morning.” She steps closer. “But I want you to have yours now. Open it.”
Like I’m holding something fragile, I carefully peel back the tape on the wrapping.
“Oh my god, you’re as bad as Constantine.” She makes a grab for the box, intending to hurry me along, and I hold it high above my head where she can’t reach.
“It’s my present. I can unwrap it how I want.”
“This baby will be born by the time you do.”
I humor her and shred the wrapping off in one go.
“I hope you like it.” She sounds nervous.
Syn could have given me a dried-up turd in a box, and I still would’ve thought it was priceless treasure because it came from her.
I lift the lid. Inside is a men’s wide brown leather bracelet. Taking it out, I study the large silver compass that adorns it.
“It’s beautiful. You made this?”
“Raquelle got me into jewelry making.” Syn takes the bracelet from me and secures it around my wrist. The silver compass glints a kaleidoscope of colors under the red, white, and green string lights decorating the porch. “Whenever you feel lost, this will help you find your way home.”
You are my home, I want to tell her, in awe of this gift and the woman who gave it to me.
“Thank you.” Those two words don’t do my feelings justice, but I’ve never been good with words anyway.
She dips her chin, a blush coloring her cheeks. “You’re welcome.”
A small noise draws our attention. Tristan quietly watches us from the doorway, his gaze both curious and enigmatic.
“The blankets and pillows are out.”
Syn insisted we do a campout in the living room and a Christmas movie.
She skips over to him and jumps into his arms. “The movie better be Die Hard.”
He tucks his hands under her ass and hops her up, pecking a kiss to the button of her nose. “One and two. You coming?” he asks me, carrying her inside with me right behind them.