“We aren’t finished here,” Dad snaps.
“Oh yes, we are,” I say, adrenaline coursing through me. “I will not step foot in this house again unless Aiden is welcome here. And if you trade him for no good reason? Like you just threatened to do? That won’t change anything between us.”
“Scarlett, no,” Mom cries, tears beginning to fall. “What about Christmas?”
I remain firm. “I will not be here for Christmas unless I’m treated like an adult and respected. And you need to respect the man I love, too.”
I take Aiden’s hand and lead him out of the house. I’m shaking with all kinds of emotions, and Aiden grips my hand tighter, as if he knows I need it. He ushers me inside his car, and as soon as he’s slipped behind the wheel, he turns to me, his eyes searching mine in the darkness. The twinkling lights from the house shine through the windows and illuminate his face, and I feel sick when I see how worried he looks.
The look isn’t because he’s worried about his hockey career. It’s because he’s worried about me.
“I love you,” I blurt out, my voice breaking. “You keep giving me more reasons to love you. More reasons to get down on my knees and be grateful that you broke your code of conduct for me. Tonight you proved over and over why I’m so lucky to haveyou. And I will choose you every time, Aiden. Every. Single. Time.”
A tear rolls down my cheek, and Aiden brushes it away with his fingertips. “I … I just hate that you have to suffer to love me.”
“You have the greater price to pay,” I insist. “I’m so sorry. I can’t say I’m sorry enough.”
“It’s not your fault,” he reminds me. “I don’t want to be traded. I’ve always dreamed of playing with Wyatt, and I’ve been so lucky to do that here in Miami. Obviously, I want to stay here, not just for him, but for you. But if I’m traded …” Aiden pauses and swallows before continuing. “If I’m traded, I’ll still be playing hockey. And you’ll still be mine.”
“Yes, I will,” I say, my voice thick.
Aiden leans over and kisses me, and I hold his face in my hands as I kiss him back. I reach up, pushing back the hair that has fallen across his brow, and tracing my fingers over the scar above his eyebrow.
Aiden breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. I close my eyes.
He can’t be traded.
I have to believe that Dad will calm down and see this rationally. That Aiden is not only one of his alternate captains, a popular player on this team, but his best defenseman, too.
That has to happen. For Aiden’s sake.
And for the sake of my heart, too.
* * *
The silence speaks volumes.
I glumly stare at the tree in my apartment on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, remembering how joyful I felt putting it up with Aiden. It was my first adult Christmas tree, and I loved havingAiden help me decorate it and figure out the best way to string the lights.
Now it’s a reminder that I will not be spending Christmas at my parents’ house tonight.
They haven’t come to their senses. There’s been no text or phone call.
They have chosen hockey over me.
Mom and Dad don’t trust me to make my own decisions. They don’t trust Aiden, the man my dad was so impressed by in training camp, he made him an alternate captain before he ever played a game in a Manatees uniform—something my dad has never done in his entire career.
I swallow as I hug a throw pillow closer to my chest. Jamie called and said he would try to talk to Dad, which I appreciated. Ethan texted, wishing me a Merry Christmas and saying this would all blow over—but he didn’t mention a single word about supporting me or Aiden with Mom and Dad. Not that I expected him to. As soon as he punched Aiden in the face, I knew where his mind was on the matter.
I turn down the Christmas music I’m playing. I’ve moved past the anger of last night to new emotions. Sad. Disappointed.
And so, so afraid Aiden will be traded.
I try to push that thought aside and focus on tonight instead. Aiden will be coming over to spend the night, and we’ve already decided to eat a Nochebuena feast—something Ava mentioned that her family will do tonight in our group chat. It’s a big Christmas Eve dinner that includes Cuban-style roast pork, plantains, black beans and rice, yuca, and flan for dessert. I ordered one from a Cuban restaurant, and Aiden is going to pick it up on his way over. Wyatt is going to join us, so perhaps it’s the start of a new tradition we’re creating.
But my heart hurts at the reasonwhywe’re creating this new tradition.
We’re creating it because my own family would rather have Christmas without me than acknowledge Aiden is the man I’ve chosen to love.
