Page 66 of Winter With You

Gabriella jumped fast. Verbally and physically. She grabbed Phoebe’s arm. ‘God, no! Phoebe, I’m kidding. Just joking! I mean, who doesn’t like Christmas?’ She laughed. Perhaps a bit too hard and in a slightly unhinged way.

‘Well, I know it’s not your favourite time of year but⁠—’

‘But people can change their mind,’ Gabriella said, dramatically. ‘In New York…’ She looked to a stall to their left. ‘Surrounded by scented candles and… whatever those wooden things are over there.’ She dug in her handbag and produced some cash. ‘Go and get some waffle things.’

‘I will but I don’t know what everyone wants on them.’

‘It’s OK,’ Luca said. ‘I’ll help. Let’s go.’

And as Luca, Phoebe and Mr Darcy strode off, Gabriella was left feeling a lot like the Grinchiest Grinch in New York City.

40

Luca ate his waffles and warm chocolate fudge, letting the sweetness calm his thoughts and the cheery festive fairground-style music take the edge off his mood. He had overreacted, he knew. Gabriella didn’t know about his past, how some of his Christmases had been. How could she? He never told anyone. Never spoke his truth. With good reason, but also always without explanation.

‘I owe you an apology,’ Gabriella said, sitting down next to him on this wooden bench, her own portion of waffles in her hands.

‘No,’ he said. ‘You don’t.’

‘I disagree,’ she continued. ‘My mouth runs away with itself so much it could enter the New York marathon next year.’

He smiled. ‘That is true.’

‘Hey,’ Gabriella said. ‘You’re not meant to agree.’

‘Listen, you didn’t have to save me, with Phoebe.’ He looked to the young girl, a few feet ahead of them, watching a man walking on stilts and juggling, Mr Darcy by her side, sharing waffles between them. ‘I would have pled my case.’

‘OK, Christmas Criminal. And what would you have said?’

He took a breath, dug his wooden fork into a waffle. ‘That most Christmases I didn’t know if my father was going to turn up. Or even if he was going to be alive.’ His heart beat a little faster. Was this too much? Could he give up these kinds of memories? He carried on. ‘I don’t know, it kind of takes the fun out of unwrapping gifts and wondering if your mom got the memo for the presents you’d been mentioning since fall. But, you know, also not caring because you knew that she was just as worried about your father as you and your sister were.’

‘That’s the first time you’ve mentioned your father to me,’ Gabriella said.

‘Yeah?’ he said. But he knew. He never talked about him. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

‘Is he still alive?’ Gabriella asked.

He could lie. He should. Instead, he nodded. ‘Yes, but we don’t see each other.’

‘His choice?’

‘Mine.’

‘Why?’

So many reasons. None of which he could talk about. ‘He’s… not a good person.’

Gabriella nodded, eating a fork full of her waffles. ‘I feel the same about both my parents and I see them too often. Not my choice. Probably not theirs either. But we put ourselves through it for Phoebe.’

He nodded and watched Phoebe feeding waffles to an excitable Mr Darcy. ‘She’s a great kid.’

‘She is a great kid. No thanks to me or my parents. She’s just one of life’s pure, beautiful souls.’

He turned a little on the bench, his leg brushing up against hers. ‘Like your sister?’

‘And like with your dad, I don’t talk about her.’

‘Why? Because your book is full of her.’