Page 150 of The Holiday Hate-Off
CHAPTER 35
ENZO
“Che botta al cuore,” my grandfather used to say when something big happened.
What a hit to the heart.
My family had thought I was making the worst mistake of my life—and even though they were wrong, they’d shown up at the exact moment I needed them most. They’d shown up for me the way I’d always shown up for them, and it had solidified something for me. I wasn’t the rock expected to take care of his whole family. No, we were a family of people who took care of each other. A family we all wanted Lucy to be part of.
And ten hours—of insufferable bickering, traffic stops, and Nico’s constant demands for piss breaks—later, we finally reached Hideaway Harbor.
But Lucy wasn’t home at her apartment or in the rec center, where the dance was letting out. So I went to search the bridge, the place where we’d both gone looking for answers at the beginning of the month.
My family and I were only partway there when her mother’s letter, flying in the wind, hit me in the chest like a homing pigeon.
A hit to the heart indeed.
When I finally wrapped my arms around her, it felt so deeply right there was a burning behind my eyes.
Still is. I can’t seem to let her go. I’m not going to cry, obviously, but I’ve come much closer to tears than I’d like.
Lucia. My Lucy. My woman.
A mutual love for competition brought us together, and I’m determined nothing will ever tear us apart. She makes me want something more than professional success.
“I’m taking her home,” I say, turning toward my family, Lucy still in my arms. “Thank you. God, thank you so much.”
My grandmother smacks my arm. “Don’t be late for dinner tomorrow. You both will stay at the house afterward. Nico and Giovanni too.”
It’s not a question. I glance at Lucy for her response—because if it’s a no for her, I’ll do battle with my grandmother.
But Lucy nods, her face glowing. “We will.”
We walk hand in hand to her apartment, and once we’re there, we take a shower together while I tell her all about Barry and Santa Claus and getting locked out.
“Rachelle tried to seduce you?” she asks with a degree of jealousy I appreciate as I glide the washcloth over her body.
“I don’t think she put much effort into it.”
She smiles at me and slides her hand over my cock. “Now, I’m even more insulted. I’d expect way better than a token effort for all of this.”
“The things you do to me,” I say.
“I can do more of them, if you’d like.”
“Oh, absolutely, I would like.”
Later, she lets me read the letter she wrote me when she was worried I wouldn’t come home, and I feel a steely resolve form inside of me. I never want her to feel like that again, like I might have abandoned her.
I willneverabandon her.
On Christmas Eve morning,I use Lucia’s landline to call Barry and negotiate the return of my cell phone, wallet, and car keys.
I warn him not to go into my apartment, under any circumstances, and I learn he’s already been in there.
Why am I not surprised?
Apparently, he found a self-help book my sister gave me for Christmas two years ago as a gag gift—How to Unfuck Your Life—and it’s changed his life.
