Page 122 of Finding Denver
Another year gone.
Holly’s hand is firmly in mine as we head toward Rockefeller Center. I spot Finn and Helena in the crowd, and Helena hugs us both. It’s the same as it is every year. Taf is more focused on his phone, grinning at the screen, only looking up when someone says his name. Ronan spends most of the night trying to convince Finn to skate, even though we all know he’ll fall on his ass like he does every year. Helena takes Holly onto the ice, both skating like they’ve spent their whole lives on the ice, and Finn watches them like his entire world is on the rink.
And later, among a crowd and twisting snowflakes, I lift Holly into my arms so she can see the tree better. Her eyes are lit up by the multicolored lights, her face filled with wonder, her cheeks pink.
“It’s pretty,” she breathes out.
I hold her to me. “It is.”
I’m so honored to have her. To love her. To have her in my life.
But every year, I think about Amy and how she loved this tradition. I’d see Callie’s face in hers, the way she’d wrinkle her nose as she laughed, the wideness of her blueeyes as she’d admire the tree just like Holly is now. I’d hold my girl in my arms, and Wilder would hold Holly, and even if things were tense between us as brothers, as fathers we understood this moment meant something, that these memories meant something to our girls.
I kiss Holly’s cheek. “I love you, baby.”
“Love you,” she whispers, still staring at the tree.
“Wanna skate again?”
Now she looks at me and nods enthusiastically.
She’s a natural. I’ve always told her, and it’s true. She loves being on the ice, and she giggles hysterically as we make our way around the rink hand in hand.
I keep an eye out for a flash of red hair. I listen for a laugh that gives me goose bumps. I hope against hope that Denver will show up.
But she doesn’t.
When we’re taking off our skates, I notice Finn staring at his phone, brow furrowed. I slip my shoes back on and Helena sits with Holly.
“What’s up?” I ask as I reach him.
He sighs and locks his phone. “Charlie just emailed me the invoice for Denver’s protective services. I said I’d pay.”
“An invoice? But she has another week.”
He shakes his head slowly. “She must have pulled her flight forward.”
The hurt is more than I expect. It feels like my chest shatters, and I run my hand across my mouth, the ache spreading into my heart.
This is it. I knew it would be, but I thought we had a little more time.
But to do what?
Go back and forth? Spend time together so it hurts evenmore when she inevitably leaves anyway? I’d be wading into more pain. I’ve been through enough.
We’ve both been through enough.
Denver Luxe tore into my life and has been so much more than the enemy she started out as. A stranger in an evening gown asking for chocolate. A murderess soaked to the bone as she shot a man twice. A wife broken by her husband’s actions. A mother grieving.
A woman I fell in love with.
But not my girlfriend. Not my wife. Not the mother of my children.
No matter how badly I want all that, no matter the agony it feels to realize I’ll never share that with her, it’s for the best.
It has to be for the best.
“Uncle Colt!” Holly runs up to me. “Can we get food?”
