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“Did I break you?”
Emil shook his head and took a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“For fucking and running or for not calling?”
“I…”
“I’m kidding,” Renzo said, but he didn’t sound like it. “I told you to call when you were ready. No strings.”
Emil tried to swallow, but it got caught in his throat, making his voice hoarse when he spoke. “I wanted to. I tried. Things were a mess.”
“Because of your mom?”
He laughed, dragging a hand down his face, and winced at how sore his skin was. “That was part of it. Remember how I told you that night I wasn’t really a good person?”
“And I told you that it didn’t matter who you used to be?” Renzo fired back.
Emil nodded, then turned and leaned his arms on the railing. His gaze tracked a little girl of no more than ten doing spins. “I’m still working on it. And you should also know that I’m Santa.”
Renzo made a soft choking noise. “I’m either dreaming, or I’m high. I mean, not to be a dick, but I don’t believe in Santa, and?—”
“Oh my God. No,” Emil said, slapping his hand over his mouth and dragging it down his chin. “Tonight. I was Santa tonight.”
“You—oh,” Renzo said, sounding relieved, but that only lasted a second. His eyes went wide. “Oh. You met my brother.”
“Mattia?” Emil tried. Matty had used a slight accent when he said it, but Emil’s tongue tripped over it.
“Yeah. Matty,” Renzo answered, and then he leaned forward and grabbed Emil’s shoulder, almost like he couldn’t stop himself. “Why the fuck were you Santa?”
“A friend needed a favor. Their Santa dropped out, and I was tall enough to fit in the suit.”
Renzo blinked, then threw his head back and laughed. Fuck, he was so, so beautiful. His body sort of swayed with his laughter, moving like he was dancing, and Emil wanted to kiss him so badly that his lips tingled. “That’s amazing. That’s actually the best news I’ve gotten all week. Matty has been refusing to tell me what his secret Christmas wish is, and now you know.”
Emil’s face flamed hotly, and he glanced away. “Mm.”
Renzo’s laughter immediately died. “Please don’t tell me he asked you to bring back my parents.”
“No,” Emil gasped. He turned to face Renzo fully. “He said he knew I wasn’t Santa. I don’t think he’d ask me for something that drastic.”
“But it’s got you all twisted up,” Renzo pointed out.
It was saying something that Renzo could read him so easily, but then again, Emil didn’t think he really ever had much of a poker face. “It was about you.”
Renzo paled. “What about me?”
Taking a breath, Emil dropped his arms to his sides, feeling like a monster because he now had information about Renzo that was private. And personal. And probably some of the most painful things a stranger could know about him.
“If it was anything else, I wouldn’t tell you, but I have a feeling you didn’t want me to know this,” Emil said quietly.
Renzo’s face fell even further. “It’s about John, isn’t it?”
“John is your?—”
“Ex-husband.” The words came out barely a whisper, and Emil heard the pain in his soft breath.
“He told me you were the best person in the world and had a really bad ex-husband who hurt you. He said his only wish this year was that you find someone who loves you the way you deserve to be loved,” Emil said softly.
Renzo’s eyes shot up to meet his. “He said that?”
