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Now, nine years later, and there were gaping holes in his life where his parents had once existed, but life felt a bit more normal. Matty had stopped crying at night, and Camilla had settled, and Renzo was on the outside of an abusive marriage to a narcissist that had finally ended.
Life could be better, but it could have been a whole lot worse.
Knock knock!
“Fuck,” he whispered into his hand. The student was back.
He fought back the urge to duck under his desk and hide there in case they were desperate enough to have found a lockpicking device. It might have sounded wild to someone who didn’t work on a college campus, but the end-of-semester panic was far too real, and he’d seen students hit that finals madness and not find a way back to sanity.
Renzo: I’m literally trapped in your office hiding from a student who wants to talk with you, and I think they might break down the door. You’re so lucky I like you.
Oliver: I’m literally in the Bahamas right now watching my fiancé swim with a stingray so I’m having a hard time feeling too bad.
Oliver: [pic]
Renzo: Victor is so adorable like that it makes it hard to hate you. But I still do.
Oliver: I know. I love you forever, babes. Thank you for getting that done.
When the door stayed silent for ten minutes, Renzo finally breathed a sigh of relief, shut down Oliver’s computer, then grabbed his things. He pulled his coat on, then jammed his hat over his curls, hurrying through the darkened hallway and bursting out the staff office doors. There was no one hanging around—which made sense, considering it was heading toward the teens and the sun was setting—and he jammed his finger on the elevator button over and over until it opened.
Luckily, the staff parking was close enough he only had to dodge a couple of ice patches and hop a small snowbank before he was sitting behind his heater, which was working hard, and driving over slush toward the dying mall.
The parking lot was a sad ghost of what the holidays had been like as a kid. He knew it was happening everywhere, but when he was younger, all the light poles had been decorated with garlands and twinkle lights strung like a massive net over everyone’s heads.
They still had the Christmas tree all lit up next to Santa, but it was dim and sad, and half the baubles were busted, and they couldn’t be assed to replace any of them. It made Renzo feel old and depressed. Even for a family that never really bothered with the holidays except to make Matty happy, the magic was going, and he felt powerless to stop it.
On top of that, Renzo was trying to escape the depression nipping at his heels because almost exactly three years ago, his marriage fell apart. He walked into their apartment to find his husband with the neighbor, and, well… That was that, he supposed. John had, of course, made him feel like it was his fault, but Renzo was so done losing sleep and peace on the man who had treated him and his family like garbage for their entire marriage that he’d just laughed and told him he’d be by for his stuff that week.
John hadn’t fought him over it, and Renzo’s mourning period had been short and a little strange. He had work to do, making it up to both Matty and Camilla for bringing a man like John around, but the rest of his life would fall back together in the shape it was meant to be. Not the shape John had been trying to create.
He was happy now—content as he was, if not a little lonely. But there were far worse things than being alone. And he’d already lived them.
Pulling his scarf tighter, he told himself he wasn’t allowed to be depressed until Christmas and the New Year were over. Yes, he still had to see John on campus once the spring semester started. He’d have to deal with his smug smile and simpering hellos like he felt sorry for Renzo being all alone—like he wasn’t the one who ruined everything.
But one more semester meant more time passing. It meant more healing and forgetting, and that was the best gift Renzo could give to himself for any holiday ever.
Pushing past the doors, Renzo felt a small pulse of disappointment when he smelled Wok’n’Roll instead of pine and cinnamon. But the candle store had closed, and mall staff hadn’t bothered trying to do anything more than the bare minimum for festivities. Even the holiday music was at a low drone, barely audible over the echo of the small shopping crowds.
He turned the corner and spotted the ceramics shop and then his brother leaning against the window with his nose buried in his phone. Renzo walked over and gently kicked Matty’s shoe with the tip of his own.
“That’s going to rot your brain.”
“You’re going to rotyourbrain,” Matty fired back.
“Ooh, burn,” Renzo said, then opened his arms, and Matty dove in for a hug. His brother was thirteen years younger than him and almost a foot shorter, thanks to his disorder. Renzo could easily pick him up but never did since it was the one thing in the world Matty hated most. “How was work today?”
Matty pulled back and shrugged, shoving one hand into the pocket of his paint-stained jeans. “Chrissy from CinnaRoll gave me free frosting today.”
“You’re going to rot your teeth out of your head if you keep eating that garbage for lunch every day,” Renzo said.
“Broken record. You’re a broken record,” Matty chimed. That was echoes of his sister, and Renzo sighed, clapping him on the shoulder before offering his hand.
“Yeah, yeah. Did you find anything good for me to paint?”
“I saved you…” Matty’s brow furrowed, and his lower lip stuck out a little, making him look exactly the way he did when he was a little kid. Renzo’s heart did a weird sort of throb when he realized just how fast the years were going by.
And how much their parents had missed.
