Page 61 of Unforgivable Ties

My Christmas celebrations were a complete 180 of what she did. I always sat at home and ordered take out, or went into work if something came up. I would leave my family a voicemail because I knew they’d be busy and wouldn’t answer my call.

“I just spend it by myself,” I responded, my voice quieter than I intended it to be.

Stephanie’s eyes filled with a pool of sympathy and concern that made me feel naked. But she quickly stopped herself from saying anything pitying. Instead, she squeezed my hand, a small yet warm gesture that silently voiced her understanding.

“Well, you have me to spend it with this year,” she said, a soft smile on her face.

And the year after, and the year after that. I had no plans of letting Stephanie go back to the Midwest; I would keep her in New York by any means necessary.

“I do,” I said, bringing her knuckles to my lips and placing a kiss on them. “We can make some new traditions,” I added, flipping over so I was on my back and she was on top of me. “Like no opening presents until we’ve had sex at least once.”

“You really are insufferable!” she said, laughing and slapping my chest lightly. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy hue, her laughter bright and infectious. It filled the corners of my apartment with a warmth I hadn’t realized was missing.

It was a warmth I wanted to keep with me forever.

Stephanie

Vincenzo was sleeping soundly in his bed next to me. Watching him in this state, it was almost easy to forget he was a mafia member, cold and hardened to the outside world. His hair had fallen out of his ponytail and laid messily across his chest, covering the expanse of tattoos.

Though he wore an expression of peace, the gun on the nightstand was a stark reminder of the danger that trailed his existence like a shadow.

What would a relationship with him look like? He had told me I was the only one he wanted, but never explicitly asked “Stephanie, will you be my girlfriend?” He held my hand while we were shopping together but put a three-foot distance between us when we entered the mafia warehouse.

Vincenzo held me close and whispered both sweet and dirty things in my ear at night, yet maintained a stern persona in front of his men during the day. The duality of his nature intrigued me, but also filled me with apprehension.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, his eyes still closed.

I jumped at the sound of his voice, caught off guard. I had assumed he was sound asleep and had been completely lost in my thoughts.

“Nothing,” I responded quickly, darting my eyes away from his closed ones.

“You’re lying,” he said, his eyes opening to meet mine.

Yes, I was lying, but I couldn’t tell him about the turmoil swirling in my thoughts. He would think I was weird for already wanting to be so committed to him.

“I’m thinking that it’s Christmas morning,” I said, scooching myself so I was on top of his chest. “And you’re still in bed.”

“Well, aren’t I the lucky one? Waking up to such a gorgeous woman on Christmas morning,” he said, his voice still rough from sleep.

“Flattering,” I teased, trying to straighten his hair back into place. “But I want to have coffee.”

He went to wrap his arms around my waist, but I had been expecting it. I spring boarded off his chest and pushed myself out of the bed before he could pull me back down.

“Get up,” I said with a mock scowl, pulling the covers off his body to reveal his shirtless torso and boxer-brief clad lower half.

“Fine, fine,” he said, sitting up reluctantly. He stretched out his arms, the dawning light casting a soft glow over the spider web tattoo that sprawled across his back.

As soon as he hopped out of bed, he was on my heels, chasing me out of the bedroom and down the hallway. My squeals of delight echoed in the penthouse as I darted down the hallway and into the living room, stopping in front of the Christmas tree.

Last night, the only gift sitting underneath the tree was Vincenzo’s cuff links. Now, a second gift sat next to it, the box slightly larger than the cuff link box.

My heart raced with excitement. I had told Vincenzo he didn’t need to get me anything; yet there it sat, a beautifully wrapped box with my name on it.

“You got me something?”

He shrugged casually, though I could see a hint of a smile behind his nonchalance. “Open it.”

I hesitated for a moment, taking in the pretty bow and the shiny wrapping paper that was almost too beautiful to tear. But my curiosity won over, and I gently unwrapped the gift while he watched.

---