I have no idea where this stuff is coming from, but it’s gold.
“He did?” She turns confused eyes to Aiden and then back to me.
Winter Family: 0. Mia: 4.
I don’t bother looking at my husband’s face. There won’t be any astonishment there. Whatever he’s feeling, he won’t show it. He’ll hide it—mask it—because that’s what he’s been trained to do. To keep his expression neutral so his father can’t sniff out a weakness and use it against him. And this is the kind of family I’ve been trying to belong to? The kind where a son has to buryevery flicker of emotion just to avoid being humiliated by his father for it?
“He’s so grateful for everything you do.” I’m on a roll.
I feel Aiden at my back. His heat rolling onto me. Not warming me. Not heating me. Not loving me. The loss of having him close and not having him be mine is devastating.
But I persevere.
“I’d better powder my nose before dinner is served.” I wave in that awful way Gianna and Betty do, and go straight for the stairs. I need a moment to myself in the bedroom, where Iwon’tbe spending the night with my husband.
CHAPTER 6
Aiden
My jaw is tight.
Mia isn’t behaving like herself.
She’s drifting through the festivities like she doesn’t give a damn, like she’s a guest at someone else’s party. Hell, she hasn’t even tried to talk to anyone until they approached her, and then, according to them, she was rude.
She asked me to get her a glass of champagne, which I didn’t have a problem with, but it’s not like her. Which, for the record,theynoticed. Loudly.
Mama wanted to know if Mia was on a new medication.
Gianna wanted to know if Mia was having her period.
Dad told me that she was misbehaving. “You really need to get control of your wife.”
Control? Like she’s a volatile financial asset gone amok and not the woman I love.
But I can understand why they’re perturbed. She’s not behaving likemyMia. My quiet, patient Mia, who used to apologize for breathing too loud near my family.
She’s ignoring me—no, worse,mockingme with that comment she made to Diana about how much I appreciate her work. Something I’ve never said to her.
Does she know about the kiss?
But how would she? Maybe Diana told her? I wouldn’t put it past her, considering she always plays to win, and I’ve become a trophy for her.
“Have you been talking about me to your wife?” Diana hisses, catching me on the stairs as I’m going up to our suite to use the bathroom there, and hoping to bump into my wife and ask her what the fuck is going on with her.
We just finished with the gifts for the kids.
Mia got everyone something from both of us—she’s good at that. Thoughtful, curated, personal. I know there’ll be presents under the tree for every member of my family.
I got her something too—jewelry. Just went online, picked something from Tiffany, and had it wrapped. She’ll thank me prettily. Then she’ll watch me open hers, like she always does, eager to see my expression.
Like the year she got me golf clubs signed by Rory McIlroy. The year before, she tracked down a first edition ofThe Intelligent Investorand had it embossed with my name.
“She’s like a little puppy who wants to please you. It’spathetic,”Tristan said last Christmas. I didn’t tell him to shut the fuck up about my wife.I just ignored him.
I should have said something. Should’ve stood up for her.
That stupid kiss with Diana has opened Pandora’s Box, releasing my sins. And now all my past fuck-ups are lining up in my head like Ghosts of Christmas Past—every silence, every missed moment, every time I didn’t choose her loud enough.
