Chapter twenty-one
Ben
Festive chaos blasts through the house. Shouting, screaming, feet that used to be small, stomping around.
I pull my duvet over my head. Ten more minutes. Please.
The idea that Christmas would fade as my children grew up used to worry me. It hasn’t dampened their spirits at all. They’ve regressed to tweens since arriving home.
Savannah came home a few days ago. I hadn’t been sure she would, but her partner is spending the festive season with their family and Savannah with us. It had been a pleasant surprise. I know as time goes on, it’s likely holidays will be split, and I’ll share my kids not only with their mother but their in-laws. For now, I’ll enjoy her being here.
Rose appeared on the doorstep late last night, fresh off a plane from Mexico…unannounced. She dumped her backpack in the hallway, kicked off sneakers that looked as if they hadn’t beenwashed in months, then threw herself on the sofa between her brothers. We’d all stared. She just smiled.
“It’s Christmas,” she said, then acted as if she’d never been away.
My bedroom door bursts open, and all four of them rush in, jumping on the bed the way they did years ago. Ollie bounces in one corner. Savannah and Rose flank my sides.
Liam, always quieter, sits on the edge. His gaze moves to his mother’s photo on my bedside table. The familiar sadness flickers before disappearing as his siblings pull him into the present.
Bex loved this. All of it. She would have been orchestrating the chaos. Filming every damn second.
“Come on, Dad,” Rose whines. “Get up.”
Ollie springs harder. We all wobble.
“I’ve made coffee,” Savannah says.
“Is that bribery?” I ask and she laughs.
When she was around twelve, she made breakfast in bed on Christmas Day. I remember her walking through with the tray. Everything perfectly placed—toast, coffee, yogurt—only for her to trip and drop the contents on the bedspread.
“Merry Christmas,” I whisper. “Five minutes and I’ll meet you in the living room.”
Everyone disappears. I’m left in bed, looking at the closed door, and for the first time in years, I realize today I didn’t wake early. On Christmas Day, I usually see dawn, staring at the ceiling, feeling the absence deep in my bones. Today I woke settled, and looking forward to the day ahead.
I wonder what Antonia’s day ahead will look like. Her son would have barely understood what Christmas meant before he was ripped from her. I can’t imagine this time of year without my kids. Never mind knowing I’d lost out on so much. I hope,wherever she is, she can celebrate with a smile and someone who cares.
We haven’t spoken since the site office. Since staring at one another in the half-dark, and I asked to kiss her. There have been a few emails, all strictly business. But I haven’t seen her in the flesh. I’ve had no reason to. And she hasn’t visited the retreat, at least not when I’ve been there. Perhaps she’s avoiding me, but Antonia Cole doesn’t seem like someone to step around what’s uncomfortable.
Part of me hopes she’ll appear on my doorstep, even though I know she won’t.
Her rejection hadn’t been a surprise. My suggestion was. But it felt natural. Like the next step. Not reckless. Inevitable. But she moved back, her choice, and I respect that.
I’m securing my robe when another voice joins the hilarity down the hall.
“Ben,” Amy shouts. I glance at my watch. Eight in the morning. “Ben, wake up.”
“I’m here.”
I step out into the hallway and come face to face with Ivan, Amy’s ex-boyfriend. They broke up earlier in the year. I knew they were talking again, but him being in my home on Christmas morning wasn’t something I expected. My eyes move over his shoulder, and Amy grins from behind him.
“Merry Christmas,” I say, holding out my hand.
He shakes it, poorly hiding the chuckle he’s attempting to swallow.
“You didn’t expect me?” he queries.
“I’ve learned to expect anything when it comes to my sister-in-law.”