“Well, you have to come to our place,” Giselle says, poking her pink head of hair through the door. “Georgie and I are making a turkey.”
“With my help,” Irving grins. “Don’t know that I’d trust the two of you with a bird that big.”
Giselle laughs, waving him away. “Fine. We’ll make the pies, then.”
My heart warms and I nod. “That would be great, actually.”
“What’s Ivy going to do?”
“I think she’s staying in Argyle.”
Giselle smiles sadly. “I miss her, but I get that she wants to be with her new hubby.”
“That’s exactly how I feel.”
Giselle walks over to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Well, you can be our replacement Ivy.”
I laugh. “Never thought I’d hear those words.”
“Got to knock you down a peg or two,” Irving grins. “Too much celebrity and fame aren’t good for a person.”
“You’re probably right.”
My baby moves, and I put a hand to my stomach. Taking a deep breath, a sense of calm washes over me. A few months ago, I would have been unhappy and panicking about the holidays.
It’s harder to face your demons without chemical numbness, but it feels good. Now, I feel all my emotions fully. I still feel sad about Dante’s reaction. A part of me wishes that he’d stepped up and accepted my child and me like he said he would.
I trusted him when he said he loved me. I believed him when he said he wanted this child like his own.
I should have known the truth.
It’s too hard to take on someone else’s burden like that. There are too many forces working against us, and too many reasons for him to turn away. Better for me to know now, than to start to rely on his love and support only to be crushed after the baby is born.
He was quick to turn his back on me when he found out about the baby’s father. Imagine how he would have reacted if he found out about my disease!
No, I’m better off on my own. That way, I can rely on my own strength. I know I won’t let myself down.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
My heart is always in agony when I think of the betrayal on Dante’s face when he found out about Beckett. Nights are lonely, and I miss his touch, his kiss, his sex.
But I refuse to let myself wallow.
I’m stronger now. I’ve changed. I’m no longer the sick, weak girl who was constantly looking for approval from others. Although I miss Ivy, I don’t begrudge her spending time with her new family. I don’t chase photo opportunities with the paparazzi, or crave the validation of the masses.
I’m lonely, but I’m not alone.
I keep my hands busy at the bakery, and my mind busy with my baby.
Still, I see Dante everywhere. I see him in the walk-in fridge, where he pushed me up against the wall and made me come for the first time. I see him at the house, near the pool, in my bed. The wind carries his smell, and I imagine his face on a thousand different strangers in the street.
He’s not here, though, and I’m better off alone.
So, the week before Christmas, when Ivy walks through the front door, I almost drop the tray of cookies that I’m carrying to the display case.
Georgie squeals, jumping over the counter and wrapping her arms around Ivy. Prince Luca stiffens beside her, putting a protective hand over Ivy’s back.
Once the twins release my sister from their grasp, Ivy moves toward me. She gives me a big hug, glancing down at my belly.
“Don’t we look like a pair of whales.”
“Speak for yourself, Ivy,” I shoot back, laughing as I wrap my arms around her again. “What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the holidays in Argyle.”
“She insisted,” Luca interjects, putting an arm around my shoulders. “Couldn’t spend Christmas without you. Maybe the bakery, too. Argyle Palace is overrun with cinnamon buns. Can’t find enough people to eat them all.”
Ivy laughs, elbowing him in the ribs. Her eyes shine as she looks around the bakery, already reaching for an apron.
“Definitely came back for the bakery,” I grin, glancing at Luca.
That night, it actually feels good to go back home with Ivy. It’s not a big, empty house anymore. It’s home. As Ivy and I lay back on the couches in the living room and she fills me in on everything that’s happened in Argyle, my