Page 6 of Silent Night Temptation

The day she was born was also the day Ellie died. The woman I loved with every fiber of my being, the woman I built my life around, gone in an instant, taken by a turbulent delivery. It’s a feeling that defies words. The agony of losing Ellie, mingled with the overwhelming joy of meeting Coco for the first time. I held her tiny body close to my chest, my heart shattering and swelling all at once. In that moment, cradling her in my arms, I made a silent vow: I would protect her, always. I would, by myself, give her the love and protection Ellie and I would have given her together.

The years after Ellie’s death were long and hollow. Her memory lingered, never far from me, like a constant companion. Seven years passed before I even considered being with someoneelse. Seven long years before I let myself entertain the idea of love again. Ellie had been my high school sweetheart, the love I knew before success or wealth ever mattered. With her, life had been simple. Pure. But once I started dating again, I quickly learned that those days were gone.

The women I met saw my wealth before they saw me. I could see it in their eyes, the calculation and the hunger. And the ones who weren’t overtly drawn to my money seemed to harbor resentment toward Coco. They resented the space she occupied in my life, as if she were a rival or an obstacle to their ambitions. I could sense their bitterness. They would have an unspoken competition for my attention.

But I tried, for a time. There was one woman, Thalia. I thought maybe she could be different. Coco was fourteen then, still vulnerable in ways only a father knows. I’ll never forget the day I walked in on Thalia yelling at her. It was over something trivial, some inconsequential thing I can’t even remember. But the moment Thalia raised her hand, ready to strike my daughter, was burned into my mind. I had caught her wrist just before it came down.

That was the last straw. Coco would always come first, and I would not endanger her happiness or safety for anyone. That day was the last time I saw Thalia, or any other woman for that matter. Since then, I’ve thrown myself into building my empire and protecting the one person who matters more to me than anything in this world, Coco.

I pour myself another glass of whiskey, this time sipping slowly, letting the warmth spread through me. It stirs memories of Ellie again. Christmas was always her favorite time of year. Before her, I’d been indifferent to the season, just another holiday. But she had this way of bringing Christmas to life, of infecting everyone around her with her joy. The way her eyes would light up over something as small as mistletoe or aperfectly wrapped present, or decorating a Christmas tree... It made me fall in love with Christmas, too.

Coco is just like her mother in that way. Ever since she was a little girl, she’s adored the holidays. Her excitement is a living reminder of the woman I lost but will never forget. And now, as the holiday season approaches, I feel that familiar warmth returning. The thought of spending Christmas with Coco fills me with a gentle joy.

Ellie may be gone, but in Coco, her spirit lives on. And that, more than anything, brings me peace.

***

Nyree

I’m standing in the bustling airport terminal. The faint hum of conversation and overhead announcements blend into a kind of white noise that presses on my skull. My shoes make a soft clicking sound against the polished floors as I pace back and forth, trying to steady my breathing.

Each step feels too loud, like my anxiety is announcing itself to the world, but I can’t stand still. I try to focus on anything else, the smell of freshly brewed coffee from a nearby cafe, the bright signs pointing to different terminals, the steady stream of people, each with their own destination.

But my mind keeps circling back to one thing: Coco isn’t here yet.

I pull out my phone for what feels like the hundredth time, tapping the screen and checking for any updates. Nothing. I’m early, of course, but even that minor fact doesn’t do much to calm the rising tide of panic within me. She was supposed to arrive only thirty minutes after me.

I keep repeating that to myself like a mantra.Just thirty minutes. But the minutes are stretching into hours now, and my nerves are fraying at the edges. My OCD, something I have lived with for so long, gets nasty when things don’t happen at the exact time they should. And each second of Coco not being here is exacerbating it.

My neck itches. It always does when I’m anxious, or when things don’t go according to plan. I reach up and rub at the spot just below my ear, trying to soothe the discomfort, but it only seems to make it worse. I force my hand back down to my side and focus on breathing, slow and steady, in and out.

It doesn’t help.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I glance down and see Coco’s name flash across the screen. Relief floods through me as I answer the call.

“Hey!” I say, trying to keep my voice casual, like I’m not already on the verge of a full-blown anxiety attack.

“Nyree! Just wanted to give you a head-up,” Coco’s voice crackles slightly over the connection, but it’s still the same comforting tone I’ve grown used to over the years. “My flight’s delayed. Apparently, the weather isn’t looking too good.”

I glance outside through the massive glass windows of the terminal. The sky is an oppressive shade of gray, thick with heavy clouds that seem to sink lower by the minute. Snow is already falling, swirling in delicate, haphazard patterns as the wind picks up. I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry.

“Oh,” I manage to say, my voice coming out tighter than I intended. “Okay. Um… what should I do?”

There’s a pause on the other end, just long enough to make me think she’s weighing her options. I hate this. Hate not having a coherent plan, hate that my carefully timed schedule is unraveling before my eyes. My heart races a little faster, my hands gripping the phone tighter.

“Don’t worry,” Coco says, her tone firm but reassuring. “My dad’s already there. He’ll pick you up.”

Her dad? Mr. Davenport?

I blink, momentarily thrown off by the mention of him. I’ve heard about him, of course. How could I not? Coco talks about him all the time. He’s larger-than-life in the stories she tells. This powerful, successful businessman who somehow manages to also be the most devoted father who always keeps a watchful eye over her. But I’ve never actually met him. The idea of meeting him now, under these circumstances, in the middle of an impending snowstorm, sends a fresh wave of anxiety coursing through me.

“He’ll be there soon. He’ll come in a black Jeep,” Coco continues, oblivious to the growing panic swirling in my chest. “Just wait by the entrance of the departure terminal. He’ll find you.”

I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Okay,” I say, though I’m not entirely sure how I’m supposed to feel about this. My neck is already itching again, the muscles in my throat tightening like a coil.

The call ends, and I slip my phone back into my pocket. I stand there for a moment, staring at the entrance of the terminal as people rush in and out, bundled in thick coats and scarves, to shield themselves from the cold. The snow outside was falling faster now, thick and coating the ground in a pristine white blanket.

It’s beautiful, in a way. If I weren’t so on edge, I might have been able to appreciate it. But right now, all I can think about is how long I’ll be waiting here; how awkward it’ll be when Mr. Davenport shows up, and how much I wish Coco was here instead.

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