Chapter Eight #4
‘I’m going to dump you, remember? And, boy, am I going to enjoy that part.’ Evie rubbed her hands together, wondering whether her voice sounded just a little forced.
‘We’ll discuss details later.’ There was a tension in his shoulders that she attributed to his reaction to the momentous news. Either that or his ego was struggling with the notion of being publicly rejected.
It seemed incredible to her now that only weeks earlier she’d been about to marry another man.
What she’d shared with Rio had taught her that what she’d shared with Jeff had been bland and colourless, like existing on a diet of bread and water and then suddenly discovering the variety of colour and texture of real food.
She wondered if she’d ever find anyone else who made her feel the way Rio did.
Blinking rapidly, Evie reinforced her smile as the elevator doors opened. ‘Building snowmen is hungry work, so I certainly hope that—’ She stopped, the words dissolving in her mouth as she saw the Penthouse.
It had been transformed from an elegant living space into a sparkling winter paradise.
Silver snowflakes were twisted through boughs of holly and an enormous Christmas tree, even bigger than the one she’d decorated, took pride of place next to the fire. It looked like a child’s fantasy.
The only thing missing was Santa.
The moment the thought entered her head, Santa appeared from the second bedroom, complete with red robes and full white beard.
Evie blinked. And then she peered closer, through the clouds of ridiculous white beard, and started to laugh. ‘Antonio? Is that you in there?’
‘Ho, ho, ho—’
Appalled to find tears in her eyes, Evie kept smiling. ‘That doesn’t quite work with an Italian accent. First fairy wings, now Santa—your job description seems to have shifted slightly over the past week.’
‘I have a gift for you.’ Overplaying his role like mad, Antonio reached into his sack with a flourish and pulled out a large square parcel. ‘This has your name on it.’
Evie took it, wondering what all this meant. ‘Am I supposed to keep it until Christmas?’
‘No, you open it,’ Rio said immediately as he urged her further into the room, away from Antonio who discreetly let himself out of the Penthouse.
Evie looked around her, unable to believe what she saw. ‘But you don’t…you hate…’ She swallowed. ‘You’ve done this for your little girl. I thought Elyssa couldn’t be with you for Christmas.’
‘I haven’t done this for Elyssa.’ His voice was rough and held a touch of uncertainty. ‘I’ve done it for you.’
‘For me?’
‘Because you love Christmas and, this last week, I’ve deprived you of Christmas. I’m making up for it. Open the present. I hope you like it.’ His eyes were wary and Evie wanted to say that the only present she wanted was him, but she couldn’t, could she?
He didn’t want that and it took two people to make a relationship work.
Dipping her head, she ripped the paper off the box and opened it. At first she thought there was nothing inside, and then she saw the envelope.
Puzzled, she discarded all the packaging and opened it. Inside was a printed ticket and it took a moment for her to understand what it meant. As the words sank into her brain, she gasped. ‘I can spend Christmas Day with my grandfather?’
‘Because the snow is so bad and your roads are pathetic, I am going to fly you by helicopter to this place where your grandfather lives—’ Looking ridiculously pleased with himself, Rio outlined the plan. ‘We will all spend the day together.’
Looking at Rio, with his sleek, expensive clothes and his taste for the best in everything, Evie gave a disbelieving laugh.
‘Rio, you eat in hideously expensive restaurants—your chefs are the best in the world—I’m sorry, but I can’t see you eating Christmas lunch in the Cedar Court Retirement Home. ’
‘Sì, I have thought the same thing myself,’ Rio confessed, ‘which is why two of my top chefs are currently preparing to cook lunch in more challenging surroundings than usual.’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘It will be a true test of their talents, don’t you agree?’
‘But who is cooking lunch in your restaurants?’
‘Someone. I don’t know.’ He spread his hands in a gesture that was pure Italian. ‘I don’t micro-manage every part of my business.’
‘But if they don’t do a good job, they’re fired.’
‘Very possibly. Are you pleased with your gift?’
Evie found it hard to speak. The fact that he’d done this made everything all the more mixed up in her head.
Would it have been easier if he hadn’t been so thoughtful?
Would it have been easier to walk away cursing him?
‘I’m so pleased,’ she said huskily, standing on tiptoe and kissing him.
‘Thank you. Can I phone him and tell him?’
‘He might be rather busy. All the residents are currently with a stylist, choosing new outfits for Christmas Day.’
Overwhelmed by his generosity, Evie swallowed. ‘Rio—you didn’t have to do this—’
‘I wanted to. As a thank you.’ He slid his hands into her hair and brought his mouth down to hers and Evie immediately responded, wrapping her arms around his strong neck and pressing her body against his.
As a thank you. Of course. What else?
And she knew it was also a goodbye.
After tomorrow, it would be over. She wouldn’t see him again.
He hadn’t said what he wanted to do about ending their relationship in public, but presumably he’d chosen to wait until after Christmas Day so that her grandfather wasn’t upset.
Rio pressed his mouth to her neck and gave a groan. ‘We probably shouldn’t be doing this—’
‘I want to.’ Evie spoke without hesitation, her eyes closing as he slowly unzipped her coat and trailed his mouth lower. ‘I want to spend tonight with you.’ If this was their last night together, then she wanted something she could remember for ever. She wanted memories to keep her warm.
She couldn’t have him for ever, but she could have him for now.
‘You’re sure?’ His voice was deep and husky and she nodded.
‘Completely sure.’
It was only later, much later, when she was lying in the darkness, cocooned in his arms and sleepy from his loving, that she asked the question that had been hovering on her lips for days. ‘Will you tell me why you hate Christmas? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but—’
‘It was never a good time of year for me.’ He tightened his grip on her.
‘Every Christmas was a nightmare. I’m the product of a long-term affair between my mother and a very senior politician who was married with his own family.
Christmas Day was the one day he always spent with them.
I was eight years old when he finally found the courage to tell her he was never going to leave his wife.
I found her body lying under the Christmas tree when I got up in the morning.
’ He spoke the words in a flat monotone, the same voice he might have used when discussing the share price.
Evie lay immobile, shock seeping through her in icy rivulets, like melting snow. The vision played out in her brain in glorious Technicolor. An excited eight-year-old dashing downstairs to see if Santa had left presents under the tree and discovering death in all its brutal glory.
She wanted to say something—she wanted to find the perfect words that would soothe and heal—but she knew that such words didn’t exist. She knew from experience that there weren’t always words that could smooth the horrors of life, but she also knew that human comfort could sometimes warm when the temperature of life turned bitter cold.
So she tightened her grip on him and pressed her lips against his warm skin, her muffled words intended to comfort, not cure.
‘The doctor had given her tablets for depression.’ Now that he’d started speaking, he seemed to want to continue. ‘She’d swallowed them all, along with a bottle of champagne her lover had given her for Christmas. I called an ambulance but it was too late.’
Evie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘So what did you do? Where did you go?’ She thought of her own loving grandparents and the tears streamed down her face and dampened his skin. ‘Did you have family?’
‘I gave the hospital the number of my father—’ he wiped her tears with his fingers and gave a humourless laugh ‘—that must have been quite a Christmas lunch, don’t you think? I believe it was his wife who answered the phone so he probably had some explaining to do.’
‘Did he take you into his family?’
‘Yes, on the surface. As a senior politician he had to be seen to be doing the right thing and I was effectively an orphan. In practice, they sent me to boarding school and tried to pretend I didn’t exist. His wife saw me as a reminder of her husband’s lengthy infidelity, his daughter saw me as competition and my father saw me as nothing but a bomb ready to explode his career.
He told me I’d never make anything of myself. ’
‘He should have been ashamed of himself—’
‘His career disintegrated soon after that, so I don’t think life was easy for him.’
Evie pressed her damp cheek against his chest. ‘So now I understand why you were prepared to fight so hard for your little girl. Why you wanted to be a father to her.’ And she understood why every Christmas tree slashed at the wound he’d buried so deep.
And yet he’d put his own feelings aside in order to decorate the Penthouse for her.
She wanted to ask why he’d done that—why he’d put himself through that.
‘I love you, Rio.’ Suddenly it seemed terribly important that she tell him, no matter what happened when the sun rose.
No matter what he thought of her. ‘I love you. I know you don’t love me back—I can understand why you’re so afraid to love after what you learned about relationships as a child, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I want you to know you’re loved.’
He gave a low groan and pulled her onto him, wrapping his arms around her. ‘I know you love me. I saw it in your eyes when you looked at me in the park.’
‘Oh.’ Embarrassed, she gave a tiny laugh. ‘So much for hiding my feelings. Just don’t ever invite me to play poker.’
‘Evie—’
‘Don’t say anything.’ She pressed her mouth to his. ‘This has happened to you a load of times before. I know it has. It’s fine. Don’t let’s think about tomorrow. Let’s just enjoy right now. Right now is all that matters.’
She lay awake in the darkness, holding him, wishing she could hold the moment for ever and stop dawn breaking.
It was the end, she knew that.
For the first time in her life, she didn’t want Christmas Day to come.