Page 107 of Holiday Hostilities

Parker’s scrawny chest puffs with pride, while my own feels like it’s constricting with more emotions than I know what to do with.

“And also, she’s notthatsmart,” Aaron tells Parker, winking at me. “Do you know that she used to hate Christmas? Can you believe it?”

Parker gasps in horror, and as I slide down to a cross-legged seat next to Aaron, he places a casual hand on my knee as our conversation turns to the holidays. Parker tells us about his baby sister’s diaper exploding when his parents visited earlier today, and Aaron fills Parker in on Natalia and Nonna catching us kissing at his front door, which makes the boy cackle.

Seriously, who is this guy? How could anybody not adore him?

My prior self was clearly insane, because now, I see who he really is: a man who invests endless time, effort, and energy in the people who are important to him. Who faces up to his challenges and tackles his problems head on, because the people who matter to him are worth fighting for and believing in, even when he barely believes in himself.

It’s inspiring. When I look at myself, I see that, in contrast, I’ve been living in fear of investing in important relationships in case those people don’t invest in me, too, and caring about someone turns into something painful. And keeping that emotional distance from people left an emptiness. A loneliness.

For years, I tried in vain to fill that void with work and travel and escape. And while those things have been great, in and of themselves, they did nothing to satisfy the fundamental ache in me for connection and belonging.

Not things, not experiences, but deeper relationships that were truly meaningful.

I realize that, in this moment, there is nowhere else on earth I’d rather be than sitting on this cold linoleum floor nextto Aaron, celebrating Christmas by spending time with these incredible kids, then going home to his place to spend the evening with his family.

Because itmeans something.

Over the past few months, I’ve felt happier than I have in years, and it’s all due to the people in my life. I have a wonderful friend in Jing and budding friendships with the ladies I’ve met through the Cyclones.

And then, I have Sofia. My brother. Aaron.

People who matter to me so much that I’m willing to risk putting myself out there and simplyletting themmatter this much to me.

For the first time in my adult life, I’m going to take a leaf out of Aaron’s book and fight for what—who—I love.

Which means I need to talk to my brother, stat.

43

OLIVIA

I feel like I’m getting a taste of the Brandi life as I skulk in the underground parking lot at the RGM. And let me tell you, it’s not the life for me.

For one, it’s freaking cold down here.

For two, my legs hurt from crouching beside Aaron’s car like a criminal.

Although, it’s given me a lot of time to examine that dent in his driver’s side door and reflect on just how much this man has done for me in such a short span of time.

Which is why I’m currently doing this for him.

Forus.

It’s the first opportunity I’ve had to face this head on, because Aaron’s mom and Nonna kept us occupied from the moment we came back from visiting the kids in the hospital, right up until they walked through security at ATL last night.

It felt weird to be on that side of things—to not be the one leaving, but the one saying goodbye. To people who, strangely enough, already feel like family.

And as I walked out of the airport hand in hand with Aaron, ready to go home, I felt complete.

Bright headlights flood the parking lot and I look up to see that Jake’s forest green SUV is finally pulling into the lot.

Aboutfrickingtime.

I jump up and run over to his assigned parking spot, so I’m waiting, arms crossed, when he clambers out of his vehicle in his game-day suit. It’s a nice one—charcoal gray and perfectly tailored. Sofia must’ve picked it out.

“Looking good, big bro.”

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