Page 84 of Mistletoe in the Mafia

“You want to go to Kenya?” Dominic asks slowly.

“Not just Kenya, I want to travel the world. For about a year. It’ll be like a journey of self-discovery. I think I need to find myself, Dominic. And you do, too. We’ve both spent so much of our lives as ghosts, as shadows. Sometimes I’m not sure who I really am, and I don’t think you know either. Specter was right. We are broken, but broken things can be put together.”

“I’ll put you together myself,” he vows, his voice steady, unwavering.

I shake my head, placing a hand on his jaw. “You can’t fix someone when you have holes yourself. The two of us need to heal apart from each other. We also need, like, loads of property.”

He doesn’t even smile at that. His eyes search mine pleadingly.

“I need you, Madelyn. I understand this is all on me. I lied to you, I kept the truth away from you. I hid who I really was. Your anger is one-hundred percent justified, but if I let you leave I won’t get to see you for a year. How am I supposed to protect you? How would I know you’re safe?”

“I protected myself for years before you came along, Dominic,” I say softly. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

His eyes flutter shut and he leans into my touch. “Don’t go, baby.”

I’m not going to lie, my resolve falters a little bit at the heartbreak in his tone.

“I have to,” I tell him, my eyes welling with tears. “For both of us. You hurt me, and I need to find a way to forgive you for all that pain. Just give me a chance, Dom. You found me the first time around. Give me a chance to find you again.”

“You might not come back, Flowers.”

I want to deny it and tell him that I definitely will, but the truth is, in my journey of self-discovery I could come to realize that maybe my love for him was something also born from my deep-seated trauma.

“You just have to trust that I’ll make the right decision.”

With those words, I lean up and press a soft kiss on his lips. It’s barely even a kiss. I pull away before it can get too deep, despite the clenching in my chest. Every inch of me wants him but every part of my mind knows I can’t stay. And I think he understands that, too.

“Come back to me, okay? And promise me you won’t go looking for trouble.”

I scoff. “I never go looking for trouble, trouble always finds me.”

Dominic simply sighs before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a comforting hug—the last hug I get from him before I leave.

CHRISTMAS DAY

One Year Later

The air in Chicago is sharp and cold, the kind that bites at your cheeks and makes your breath fog in front of you. But the city is alive, shimmering with holiday magic. Twinkling lights wrap every lamppost, wreaths hang from storefronts, and the faint sound of carolers drifts through the bustling streets.

I pull my coat tighter around me, my gloved fingers clutching the straps of my bag as I step out of the cab.

“Millennium Park, please,” I tell the driver.

Ahead, the massive Christmas tree stands in all its glory, its branches glinting with silver and gold ornaments, a thousand fairy lights casting a warm glow over the crowd below. The sight is everything I hoped it would be—festive, magical, perfect.

My heart pounds as I scan the area. Carly and Joshua swore they’d get Dominic here.

“Trust us,” Carly said when I texted her my plan. “We’ll make it happen.”

There’s a crowd of people at the park so it takes me a second to find him, but once I finally do, my heart skips a beat. It stops working and then starts beating again, racing in my chest.

Dominic stands near the base of the tree, his hands buried in the pockets of his coat, his dark hair dusted with snowflakes. He’s staring up at the tree, looking out of place but undeniably striking in the sea of holiday cheer.

I take a deep breath, my heart racing as I move closer. It’s been a year since I last saw him—a year of adventures, healing, and finding myself again. I went to Kenya and then Rome, Greece, Italy, France. I toured half of Europe and then I went home. Not my home here, but my other home.

Home in Mexico. My mom left the city about a year after she gave birth to me so I barely even remember it, but she did tell me enough that I was able to track down her family members. My family members. I met my grandmothers and my aunts. I have about ten cousins. It was nice to find a sense of belonging like that. At first, it was hard. They’d spent the last twenty years worried about the whereabouts of a daughter that would never come home. And then they opened their arms to me and a part of me sighed in relief.

I have a family now. But there’s still one more person left. The person who completes my heart, no matter how much I tried to deny it.

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