Chapter 33
ALEX
Dinner is over and the restaurant is buzzing with quiet conversations and post-meal satisfaction.
The table is a mess—empty plates stacked, half-drunk glasses of wine and beer, and the remnants of what was arguably the best meal I’ve ever had.
Cam really outdid himself, not that I’d ever admit that to him. His ego is big enough already.
I stack a couple dirty plates and head toward the back kitchen, pausing slightly when I hear Liv and Frankie bickering by the bar.
“My God, Liv. Are you a vulture? All you do is hover.” Frankie grumbles, trying to step around her with an armful of glasses.
Liv gasps, clutching her chest in a dramatic display. “I’m helping too, pesado.”
“If by helping, you mean standing directly in my way, then yeah, sure.”
“Maybe if you said please, I’d move.”
Frankie huffs, adjusting his grip. “Pleeeeease, shut up,” he demands, exaggerating the ‘e’.
Liv smirks. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I shake my head and keep walking. Those two have argued like that since they first learned how to talk. Some things truly never change.
Sophia and Emma are sitting on the floor with Mia, laughing as she claps her hands and babbles nonsense words. Emma looks happy, really happy. It’s contrasting to the tired smile she’s been giving lately and it makes me content to know it’s still inside her somewhere.
I walk up behind, squat down to her level and press my free hand gently on her back. “You okay?”
She leans into my touch for a second before tilting her head up to me. “Yeah.” She affirms, and I believe her.
Satisfied, I press a quick kiss to the top of her head before heading back toward the kitchen. Cam and Leo already have their sleeves rolled up, arms submerged in soapy water as they scrub everything clean again.
Cam glances at me as I set the plates in the sink. “Didn’t peg you for the dishwashing type.”
I smirk. “I’m a man of many talents.”
Leo snorts. “Oh, yeah? Name three.”
Grabbing a dish towel, I decide to contribute by helping dry plates and glasses after they are rinsed. I wait to answer, adding to the dramatic effect, then finally say, “Drinking beer, pissing off Frankie, and making your sister scream my name.”
Leo drops the plate he is scrubbing back in the dirty water and walks away. “For fuck’s sake.”
Cam violently shakes his head. He scrubs a plate aggressively before handing it off to me. “Just take care of her, okay?” His voice is quiet and serious.
I acknowledge. “Always.”
He meets my gaze for a long moment, trying to gauge my sincerity before turning back to the sink. He didn’t give me his blessing, but it’s as close as I’m going to get, for now.
By the time we’re done, most of the mess we made has been cleared. The girls help set the tables and chairs back to their original positions. The dining area looks pristine, as if nothing out of the ordinary ever took place.
I find Emma leaning against the bar, her arms crossed as she watches me with careful admiration.
“You ready to head out?” she asks.
I nod once, tossing the towel onto the counter and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Yeah, Princess. Let’s go.”
Emma kicks off her boots with a dramatic sigh and immediately flops onto the couch. “I wanna put on a Christmas movie.”
Shrugging off my jacket, I fold it neatly on the entryway table. “Already? It’s not even December yet.” I proclaim, eyebrows creasing in the middle.
Her gasp is exaggerated. You would think I just insulted her, and her entire bloodline.
“What do you mean ‘Already’? Alex, it’s the holidays. The Christmas spirit waits for no one. Also, I don’t want to pull the whole birthday card out on you, but you still have to do anything I say for the next four hours.”
I sit down next to her, suddenly needing to be as close as possible. “You’re out of control.” I place a soft kiss on her shoulder and turn the TV on. Thankfully, the movie How the Grinch Stole Christmas just so happens to be playing on one of the channels.
Emma smiles in victory, tucking her feet underneath her body. “I just love this time of year.” Her voice is softer now, the exhaustion of the day seeming to be creeping in on her. “I’ve missed it so much here. The first snowfall is so magical. Nothing compares. I hope it happens soon.”
I watch her talk and fall more in love with the way her eyes light up and she tucks her hair behind her ear, as she talks about something she loves.
She makes me wish I could see things through her eyes, finding joy in the small things like the first snowfall in town or watching a Christmas movie after a long day.
“Did you have a good night?” I ask, wrapping an arm around her as I pull her as close to me as I can.
She nods, her smile turning softer. “Yeah. I really did.” Then, quieter, “Thank you for being there with me.”
Tucking a loose strand of her hair that she missed behind her ear, I reply, “I’ll always be here, Em.”
Her breath catches slightly at my words, and I press my lips to hers, gently lingering in the moment. She melts into me, her fingers curling into my shirt. The ache to have her closer is all consuming.
I lift her up off the couch and throw her over my shoulder.
She shrieks, laughing. “Alex! Put me down!”
I smack her ass playfully as I head toward the bedroom. “Nope. I forgot to give you your present.”
She laughs, wiggling in my hold. “You’re insatiable.”
Emma hasn’t worn happiness like this in God knows how long and I am lucky enough to be the one to witness it radiating from her at this moment.
I’m the luckiest bastard alive.
And I’ll make sure she knows it. Every single day. For the rest of our lives.
The next few weeks pass in a blur of routine, one that feels so natural it’s as if we’ve been doing it for years.
My days are split between the bar and Emma, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
It’s seamless—waking up next to her, making sure she eats something before I head to work, coming back at night to find her curled up in one of my sweatshirts, her sketchbook open in her lap, face lighting up the second she sees me walk through the door.
But even in the comfort of it all, I notice that she’s getting weaker.
Emma won’t talk about it, but I have noticed the way she catches her breath after walking up the simple porch steps, or the way she grips the counter for balance when she thinks I’m not looking.
The slight tremble of her hands when she picks up a paintbrush.
The dark circles under her eyes that no amount of makeup can hide anymore.
The pounds that she’s losing every day, no matter how much I try to get her to eat.
I try to bring up my concerns gently at first. “Em, maybe we should check in with Dr. Rivera. Maybe he—”
“I’m fine, Alex.” She cuts me off.
She’s not, though. We both know it. But she refuses to let it define her, and I can’t decide if I admire her for it or if it makes me want to scream.
“We haven’t heard anything yet,” she says one night, sitting cross-legged on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her as she holds a mug of steaming hot chocolate with both hands. “It could take months.”
I swallow hard as my jaw tightens at her words, knowing that at the rate she’s deteriorating we don’t have that long.
“We don’t have months, Em.”
She flinches at the bluntness of my words, but quickly shifts her expression into something more neutral. “Then we enjoy whatever time we do have.”
I hate how casually she says it. Like the thought of our days being limited doesn’t rip me apart every single day. Like it’s not a goddamn countdown and I’m completely powerless.
The bar is busier than usual. It always is before the holidays.
People drink to celebrate, to forget, to drown out whatever ghosts haunt them this time of year.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Emma and I agreed on no presents, but I have something else planned that will hopefully remind her how much she means to me.
Something special, just for the two of us.
I’m drying a glass at the bar top when I see Cam walk in, shaking the rain from his coat before heading straight in my direction. He doesn’t order anything, just reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, familiar object. A delicate gold locket.
His mom’s locket.
He slides it across the bar toward me as my jaw hangs open in shock.
“I was going to give this to her myself.” His voice is steady but I see the emotion flickering beneath the surface. “But I think it would mean more coming from you.”
I feel frozen in place. My fingers hover over the locket, hesitant, almost afraid to touch it.
I remember it resting against Isela’s collarbone.
She used to absently toy with it whenever she was deep in thought.
I haven’t seen it since she passed away.
I just guessed she was buried with it. But now, looking at it feels like being hit with every memory I have of her all at once.
Isela Diaz may not have been my biological mom, but she was more of a mom than I ever had. When she passed away, it hit me just as hard as it hit her blood-related children.
“Cam,” I start.
“She’d want Emma to have it,” he interrupts, as if knowing what I’m going to say. “And… I think Mom would’ve wanted you to be the one to give it to her, too.”
I exhale sharply and simply nod, unable to find the right words to explain the mix of emotions overcoming me.
Cam gives me a quick pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving me standing there, staring at the locket like it holds the entire weight of the past in its tiny gold frame.
When I get home, the house is quiet. Emma is asleep on the couch again, curled up in a blanket, the fire crackling steady in the hearth.
I sit on the edge of the couch and fixate on the soft rise and fall of her chest, brushing a piece of hair from her face.
After what feels like an eternity of admiring her, I press a kiss to her forehead before heading to the kitchen.
Tomorrow, I’ll make sure she knows how special she is to me.