Page 29 of Silent Night Temptation

“Bravo, Nyree,” Ethan chimes in. There’s a genuineness in his voice, and I give him a warm, thankful smile. I nod, but I immediately note the change in Marcus's expression.

I look between them, the tension so palpable it feels like another presence in the room, hovering over us all. Marcus's face is impassive but strained beneath the surface. And me? I’mcaught between it all; between the guilt, desire, and growing fear of what might unravel if any of these fragile threads snap.

The drinks begin to circulate. They are slow at first, cautious, like everyone’s too aware of the undercurrent threading through the room. It’s in the silences and in the way eyes glance and quickly turn away. There’s the weight of secrets; mine, Coco’s, Marcus's. Coco’s pregnancy lingers between her and me, unspoken, just as the affair between Marcus and me stays buried beneath layers of guilt. And then there’s the situation with Ethan and Marcus, volatile, like a lit fuse waiting for the wrong word to set it ablaze.

The tension is thick. Words are carefully chosen, conversations measured. But liquor has its way to slowly and steadily, peel back the edges of our restraint. I feel it first, warmth creeping through my veins, loosening my spine, and making me sink deeper into the chair. Laughter flows more easily now, slipping out of me like a quiet release, and it spreads. One by one, we relax.

Marcus is the first to dive into old stories, his deep voice filling the room with tales of Coco as a child. He talks about how she adored Christmas, how he kept the myth of Santa Claus alive for years longer than most children believed. He even managed to convince her until she was fifteen. The story sends us all into fits of laughter, even Ethan, who teases her mercilessly.

For a brief, shimmering moment, we are just a group of people enjoying each others company. The tension recedes, drowned in wine and champagne, swallowed by the warmth of shared memories. Marcus laughs, deep and hearty, and I can’t stop myself from staring at him. The alcohol strips away my earlier restraint, making me bold and reckless. He’s captivating, every movement, every smile. And then, he looks at me too, and our gazes lock.

It’s a moment suspended in time, stretching out as if the world has fallen away, leaving only him and me; two people in a room full of buried truths. His eyes don’t waver, and mine don’t either. It’s intoxicating, even dangerous, and I know it. I know we can’t let this happen, not here, not now, but I can’t pull away. My heart hammers in my chest, and just as the moment threatens to snap, I force myself to look away.

But in averting one danger, I step straight into another.

My attention falls on Coco’s drink; just water. She hasn’t touched the wine or champagne all night. I know why, of course. It’s not safe for her to drink, not now with the baby. But Marcus doesn’t know that. Not yet. His gaze follows mine, and when he sees her glass, I see the slight shift in his expression, the curiosity that flits across his face.

“I thought we were celebrating,” Marcus says, his voice tinged with amusement, but there’s an undercurrent of confusion. “Just water, Kiddo?”

My stomach drops. I can feel the room shift, the air tightening with expectation. My pulse quickens, and I force myself to stay calm, though my throat feels like it’s closing. I look at Coco, praying she handles this carefully. This moment could unravel everything.

The silence that follows is unbearable. Coco stares down at her glass, and the pause stretches on, too long and too heavy. I’m holding my breath, my mind racing. My heart is pounding in my ears. Ethan, too, is watching her. His usual calmness is replaced by something that looks almost like concern.

Finally, Coco speaks, her voice casual and steady. “Oh, it’s a diet, Dad. I’ve been trying it out, and I can’t do alcohol right now. It’ll ruin it.”

The unease holds, suspended, as Marcus processes her words. He studies her for a beat longer than feels comfortable, his focuslingering on the glass. I can see his mind working. But then, after what feels like an eternity, he laughs, a small, calm chuckle.

“You and your diets,” he says, shaking his head with a smile. The edginess eases and the danger passes. I exhale slowly, my body finally unclenching.

That was close. Too close.

But as the moment fades, I can’t help but feel that the web we’ve woven is tightening, and I wonder just how much longer it can hold before it snaps.

“I have an idea… let’s play a game,” Coco says, seizing the moment to redirect the conversation.

“What kind of game?” Ethan asks, his brows lifting in surprise, as if the very notion of a game is out of place in this tangled web of strained relations.

“Truth or dare,” she replies, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips, playful and mischievous.

Ethan lets out a burst of laughter, the sound sharp in the uneasy quiet of the room. “Truth or dare?!” he repeats, his disbelief evident. “Maybe you are still fifteen after all,” he teases, squeezing her hand. His words carry a warmth, and she responds with a smile that mirrors his affection. For a moment, I can see how much she loves him, how happy she is in his presence. There’s a swell of joy that rises in me at the sight of how happy she is.

We start the game, and with every round, my anxiety tightens its grip. Truth or dare is a dangerous game for people like us, people who carry too many secrets. But as the turns come and go, it stays light, almost carefree. It’s as if we’ve all silently agreed to avoid the landmines buried in our lives. Coco orchestrates the flow with careful precision, steering us away from anything too perilous. Slowly, I realize her plan: she’s trying to bridge the chasm between Marcus and Ethan, to force them into a moment of connection.

It comes back to Marcus’s turn. “Truth or dare?” Coco asks.

“Truth,” Marcus says without hesitation, his third time opting for the safer choice.

“No, Dad,” Coco shakes her head, her tone teasing but firm. “You’re out of truths. You’ve got to do a dare this time.”

Marcus sighs, nodding. “Alright, dare it is.”

A flicker of mischief lights up Coco’s eyes. She pauses just long enough for the suspense to build before she delivers her challenge, her voice brimming with excitement. “I dare you and Ethan to go into a room and have a nice conversation for ten minutes.”

The room stills. The very air seems to hold its breath. I feel a knot tighten in my throat, my fingers reflexively scratching at my neck. Ethan and Marcus lock eyes, a silent battle waging between them, the weight of Coco’s request hanging like a sword over their heads. The anxiety is suffocating, thick enough to press down on my chest, making my heart race.

Ethan is the first to break the silence. “Can I forfeit? Please,” he says, half-joking, half-pleading, his voice tinged with discomfort.

Coco shakes her head, undeterred. “You’re out of truths too. Consider this your dare when your turn comes.”

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