Page 204 of Filthy Rich Santas

That kind of joy is so much more valuable than a few shiny, perfectly coordinated baubles.

“All right, I think that’s enough reminiscing.” Meg waves her hands in the air. “Let’s?—”

The doorbell rings again before she can finish that sentence. Baldwin races out of the room, barking, to go see who it is.

“Well!” Meg says, getting back to her feet and following. “Good thing I made plenty of eggnog.”

I look at Tristan, but he just shrugs. As far as I know, they don’t have any family in the area, but it doesn’t surprise me at all that someone as welcoming as Meg would have plenty of visitors today.

The moment we hear the door open, excited, childish chatter fills the hallway.

It’s Vivian, with Oliver bouncing at her side.

I blink in surprise. Not that I’m not happy to see them, I just… don’t understand why they’re here.

“It’s Christmas!” Oliver announces with five-year-old glee as soon as Meg leads them into the living room.

Baldwin yaps excitedly, dancing around his feet.

Then Oliver catches sight of Beckett and launches himself at the big man, yapping almost as loudly as Baldwin as he starts telling him all about what Santa left in his stocking that morning.

Beckett’s face softens in a way I’ve rarely seen as he scoops Oliver up. “Hey, buddy. Merry Christmas. That sounds like a lot of fun.”

The sight of Beckett, usually so gruff, being so gentle with Oliver makes my heart swell. But my attention is quickly drawn back to my sister. Vivian looks… different. Her usual perfect poise is gone, replaced by something raw and vulnerable. Emotions I can’t quite name play over her features, all tightly contained as if she doesn’t want to let them leak out and spoil her son’s magical morning.

“Viv?” I say softly, stepping toward her.

I’m about to ask if she’s okay, but the memory of how she rebuffed me at our parents’ party stops my tongue. Still, she’s here, and since I’m pretty sure she’s not part of Meg’s knitting circle, that has to mean something since clearly she figured out that it’s where she’d find either me or Caleb, or both of us.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I say honestly. “Um, would you like some eggnog?”

She gives me a stiff smile. “No, thank you, I’m watching my…”

I lift an eyebrow. Watching her figure?

For once, I don’t take it personally. If that’s what makes her happy, who am I to judge? Then again, maybe we all need a little nudge sometimes.

“Live a little,” I say, quickly pouring her a mug. Then, leaning in, I whisper, “It’s spiked with the good stuff.”

She hesitates, then laughs quietly and takes it, her shoulders relaxing a bit.

“Thank you. I could actually use that right now.” She takes a shaky breath, looking around the crowded room. “Actually, can we talk for a second? Privately?”

I nod, leading her to Meg’s sewing room. As soon as we’re alone, Vivian’s composure crumbles, tears filling her eyes.

I take her mug and set it on the coffee table, wrapping her in a hug. “What’s going on?”

“I’m leaving Kyle,” she blurts out, her voice barely above a whisper.

I blink, stunned. “What? What happened?”

I let her go, and she pushes aside a pile of yarn and sinks back onto Meg’s plush loveseat with a sigh.

I sit beside her, taking her hand.

“He’s been cheating,” she admits, her lips pursing tightly before she goes on. “It’s been going on for a while now. I… I knew, but I didn’t want to rock the boat. I thought if I just ignored it, I could pretend it didn’t matter. That we really were the beautiful, perfect family you complimented me on yesterday.”

“Oh, Vivian,” I say, my heart aching for her. All this time, I thought she really did have the perfect life, but she was struggling too.

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