I learned that family doesn’t have to be blood.
And If I hadn’t been dragged into the whole trafficking mess, the other women might never have been found.
Because Alec and his friends rescued them. All of them.
It took weeks, with the last woman finally being located in Portugal just three days before Thanksgiving, but all the women were saved. They’re all back home with their families, receiving counseling and all the services they need.
Is it a perfect solution? No. Perfect would be them never being taken to begin with. But at least they’re safe. They have a chance.
I haven’t spoken to Amy. Not yet. But I wrote her a letter. In it, I told her I wasn’t angry. That I understood why she did what she did. I told her I only wish the best for her. And that, eventually, if she wants to talk, I will.
Alec thinks I’m too forgiving. But how can I not forgive Amy?
After all, Marissa’s parents forgave me. While Alec was investigating my case, he talked to Mr. and Mrs. Everts, and they swore they didn’t hold Marissa’s death against me.“Poor Hazel was a victim, too,”Mrs. Everts told him.“I just hope she’s doing okay.”
I wasn’t. Not for a long time. But now? I am.
I’m slowly learning to let go of the guilt, thanks to the help from Alec and his friends. Or rather,myfriends, too.
I’m back at work, enjoying the build-up to the holiday season. And though I never expected to love working at a bar this much, I do.
Bliss has become so much more of a home than Boston ever was.
And I have Alec. The man I love.
My heart skitters at the word.Love.
“Haze.” Alec rolls me onto my back and pulls away from me, making a regretful face as he does it. “As much as I’d love to stay like this all morning, I don’t want to make a huge mess. Just stay here and I’ll be back to clean you up.”
Then he kisses my forehead before heading towards the bathroom, giving me a tempting view of his butt as he walks away.
While I wait for him to come back, I spin the word around again, testing it in my mouth.
Love.
I love you.
Am I brave enough to come out and say it?
When Alec returns, damp washcloth in hand, he says, “So. I was thinking. About the holidays. You liked going to my parents’ for Thanksgiving, right?”
“Yes. Of course.” I smile at him. “Your parents are great. And so is your sister and her family.”
As we talked about, I went to Boston with Alec last week for Thanksgiving, and while I was nervous at first, everything went great. Better than great, really. His parents were warm and welcoming, his sister and brother-in-law were super nice, and their kids were so adorable they set my biological clock ticking.
“The reason I ask,” Alec explains, “is because my mom asked about Christmas. I know it’s almost a month off, but if you couldn’t tell, she loves the holidays.”
“I could tell,” I agree. “And I love it. All the decorations, and the traditions…”
“Yeah.” Alec’s expression softens with affection. “They’re pretty great.” A beat, and then, “So she was wondering if you were coming for Christmas. Usually I’ll stay in Bliss for Christmas Eve, celebrate with the team, then head to Boston early the next morning.”
He stops again. In a tone that sounds almost nervous, he asks, “Would you want to come? For Christmas? I’d love it if you did.”
“You want me to celebrate Christmas with you?”
Alec puts the used washcloth on the nightstand and gets back under the covers. He pulls me into his arms, turning me so I’m facing him. “Of course. I want to spend every holiday with you. And Christmas… it’s special. We have a big brunch after we open presents, and later we go caroling with a bunch of people in the neighborhood. Later, we come back and watch Christmas movies and drink spiked hot cocoa and eggnog and gorge ourselves on cookies.”
“You go caroling?”
