Chapter 15
"You look… unhappy." Lisa peered at him a little anxiously, disturbed by the weariness she saw on his face.
"Tired," he corrected briefly. It was the end of the workday, one that had him running around from one meeting to the next with hardly a break in between.
It seemed as if everything had stood still, waiting for his return.
And the bad news was that he had a trip either tomorrow or the next day.
He had finally sent David home after seven, practically pushing him out the door.
His fastidious assistant had a standing date at the opera at this time of year.
Leon was certainly not going to be responsible for the man missing his show.
His sister had dropped by on her way home from the hospital to check in.
"How was the trip?"
A smile touched his lips fleetingly. He had spoken to his wife once this afternoon, and she had told him the good news that she was going to tell her dad tonight. He was anticipating her coming home to him tomorrow or at the latest by the end of the week. He could certainly wait that long.
"Amazing."
"You sorted out things?" she asked hopefully.
"She's going to tell her dad the news tonight. I asked if she wanted me there for moral support, and she said no." He worried the paperweight, picking up the teal blue glass pyramid she had bought him just recently.
"How do you think that's going to go?"
He shrugged. "He had to know sooner or later. I'm thinking of calling Justine."
His sister's smile widened. "The interior designer. Darling, you really are looking forward to her moving in."
"Yes." He felt his heart jump and then settle. "I know she has her own style, but she will need room for her clothes. And perhaps a change of color scheme."
Lisa shook her head as she stared at him.
"What?"
"I never thought I would see the day."
"She's my wife," he muttered.
"Have you told Dad?"
"No." He put down the paperweight. "I want to hear from Kadian first."
Lisa frowned at him as she stretched her legs out and slipped out of her tennis shoes.
She was exhausted. Working a twelve-hour shift was her usual milieu, but when it was combined with two teenagers coding on the operating table, it was an excruciating one.
"You don't think she's going to tell him. "
He shook his head. "I don't know." Pushing from the desk, he strode toward the cabinet and pushed the button. When it slid smoothly toward him, he plucked out a bottle of scotch and turned to lift a brow at her.
"I'm driving. Some coffee would come in handy."
He set about pouring the brew and his scotch. Bringing it over to her, he sat and cradled the glass between his palms. "Something you said to me stuck."
Turning sideways, Lisa gave him a puzzled look. "What something?"
"That her dad was playing her or something like that."
"Oh." She blew on the liquid, watching the steam rise. "I might be wrong."
He studied her face for a second and took a sip. "But you don't think so."
She shrugged. "No. Look, I saw the man once, and it struck me that there's something off about him. After what Dad told you, I am beginning to think I was right."
He nodded thoughtfully, the weight of unspoken suspicions settling between them like a dense fog. The lamplight caught the swirling amber in his glass, casting fractured shadows across the desk. "Dad doesn't trust him either," he admitted quietly. "He thinks he's hiding something."
Lisa's eyebrows arched. "What kind of something? The usual, or—?"
He hesitated, staring into the depths of his drink as if it might offer up answers.
"I don't know. But whatever it is, Kadian deserves to know.
I wanted to tell her so many times during the trip, but I didn't want to spoil things between us.
" He exhaled, a slow, tired sound. "Maybe I'm just overthinking after a long day. "
She gave a small, sympathetic laugh. "Or maybe you're finally letting yourself care enough to worry. It's not a bad thing, Leon."
His mouth quirked at that, a reluctant smile. "I suppose not. Still, I just want things to be straightforward for once."
Lisa finished her coffee and set the mug down with a decisive click.
"Life doesn't do straightforward, little brother.
Especially not for us." She reached over and squeezed his hand, her touch worn but steady.
"But we'll figure it out. And if her father gives her any trouble, I'm sure she'll call you. "
He squeezed back, grateful for her presence in this quiet, uncertain hour. The city outside was already sinking into the hush of dusk, and for a moment the office felt like a fragile pocket of peace—one he wished he could keep just a little longer.
"I certainly hope so." He rose restlessly and started pacing. "I want her with me."
"Of course you do, and that's normal. You're married."
He came and sat back down, stretching his legs out. Turning toward her, he finally noticed the paleness of her face and the bruised shadows under her beautiful eyes. "So, how was your day, or should I hazard a guess?"
She lifted slender shoulders in a shrug. "Awful. Tragic. We lost two teenagers today. Drug overdose. They were both seventeen."
He reached out to squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry."
She nodded. "Makes me wonder if I really have the stamina to have kids." She blew out her breath. "Even though it's too late for that kind of thinking now."
His eyes widened as he studied her face and realized the significance of her words.
"Honey, you're pregnant?"
For a heartbeat, only the quiet hum of the city seeped through the office windows. Lisa pressed her lips together, eyes glistening with something raw and uncertain.
She gave a short, shaky laugh. "You always were sharper than you let people believe.
" She covered her face with her hands for a moment before letting them fall to the desk, palms up.
"I found out last week. I haven't told anyone.
Not even Anthony. I—" Her voice trembled on the edge of something vulnerable.
"It's terrifying, Leon. After everything I see at work, it's hard to imagine bringing a new person into this world.
And yet…" She swallowed, searching his face.
"I think I want this. Even if I can't explain why. "
Leon scooted his chair closer, concern etched in every line of his posture. "You don't need to explain. Not to me."
Lisa smiled, the lines of exhaustion softening for an instant. "I knew you'd understand. Honestly, I needed to say it out loud to someone who wouldn't just tell me everything's going to be fine."
"I won't," he promised quietly. "But I will say: you're braver than you think. And you aren't alone in this, not for one second."
She reached for his hand, and together they sat in the fading light, neither speaking, but both feeling the fragile, trembling hope that sometimes managed to survive even the heaviest days.
Suddenly, a wide grin split his face, and his emerald green eyes danced merrily.
"Holy Christ! I'm going to be an uncle." For a moment—one infinitesimal moment—he felt the tug of envy and longing, but then it was gone, and he was taking the cup of coffee away from her and putting down his own drink.
Tugging her into his arms, he hugged her fiercely until she was breathless.
"Thanks for telling me—that was just what I wanted to hear. "
*****
She prepared a speech inside her head. For the rest of the day, when she returned from lunch, she had been very busy.
It was the holiday season, and the store was busy.
The things she had implemented—book signings by local authors, hot chocolate and delicious pastries while seated in front of the fire and listening to several audiobooks, sales on certain titles as well as the beautiful crystals and trinkets that had been in the store for several months.
The combination, along with the jolly Santa next to the giant Christmas tree, had garnered a lot of attention from the customers. They were rushed off their feet for the entire day with barely enough time to grab something to eat.
Still, amid the commotion and the laughter, Kadian's mind spun quietly on its own axis.
Every customer's cheerful greeting seemed to float past her, muffled by the secret she harbored.
She caught her reflection for an instant in the polished window—her smile bright, her eyes shadowed with wonder and uncertainty.
Later, while restocking shelves, a little girl drifted over, clutching a battered copy of "The Snowy Day.
" Kadian knelt to help, and the child peered up, voice piping with sincerity, "Do you think magic happens here at Christmas?
" The words, guileless and wide-eyed, sent a strange shiver through Kadian—a fragment of hope blooming in her chest.
She guided the child to the crackling fireplace, where the warm scent of cinnamon and chocolate hung in the air.
For a moment, Kadian watched the flames dance and felt part of something gentle and ordinary: a mother fussing with her scarf, a couple debating book choices, a chorus of laughter from the back room.
The world, for all its hardness, still held corners of comfort and possibility.
As dusk settled over the store and the crowd began to thin, she finally allowed herself to breathe.
She glanced at the closed notebook in her bag—the speech she'd rehearsed still unwritten, but her heart lighter for making the decision to tell her dad the truth.
Perhaps, she thought, some magic truly did linger in the season, threading through the lives that intersected, even briefly, beneath twinkling lights and drifting snow.