RAYDEN (27YRS)
“One, two three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Da...ddy, right?”
I rolled onto my stomach and smiled at my son. We were playing with his alphabet blocks on the rug in my room. “Jardin right.” Grabbing him to me, I blew raspberries on his belly, and he fell back onto the shaggy, giggling.
“Da...ddy stop.” He pushed at my head, trying to ward me off him.
Laughing, I lifted my head to find a smiling Nina, waiting to the side. “Bath and bedtime, buddy.”
He waved at Nina, climbed onto my back, snuck his chubby arms around my neck and attempted to blow raspberries on my cheek, dribbling spit each time he pulled away. I moved one of his hands to my mouth and bit down lightly.
“Da...ddy naughty,” he squealed, repeating the words I’d used on him when he bit my finger while I tried to feed him a snack. I bit it again and he giggled then slipped off my back. “Come to sleep?”
“Yes. I’ll come say goodnight. Go have your bath now, okay?”
He nodded and kissed my cheek before walking away with Nina. I stayed on the carpet, moving the blocks around and only stopped when I realized I’d spelt out a name. Folding my hands under my chin, I stared at the red and blue lettering. “Did I get it wrong, Lorenzo?” I whispered. I’d been hurt by Zena, by Sianna, my father yet none of their hurt came close to the current agony my body refused to let go. The tears started to dry up about two days ago, not because I no longer felt pain but because my body was exhausted from heaving.
My gaze drifted to the window and the dark sky beyond. Snow fell at a rapid pace creating icicles from the rafters above the windows. Last Christmas had been a nightmare with the whole Sianna and my father love triangle. With a few weeks to go, I wished this Christmas would be different. My heart knew better. It wasn’t ready to play in the snow or sing carols around the fire. No. All it craved was one man. I glanced at the blocks again, trying to smile.
Since leaving the island, I’d questioned myself a thousand times whether I’d made the right decision and every time I looked at my child, my family, my mind confirmed it was the right one. Yet, the niggle at the back of my head, refused to give in. It stayed there like a constant taunt, calling me an idiot, a chicken.
Jardin was quickly adapting to his new home and my family were smitten with him, especially Kyra. My sister wouldn’t leave him alone and even though Nina stayed close, Kyra snuck into his room every chance she got. The first few days, Jardin had asked for Zena and had woken a night or two looking for her. I’d calmed him and he’d ended up sleeping in my bed. I hadn’t decided if I was ready to have her around. My head wasn’t in the right space for important decisions. I let my father handle those for now.
The little meet up with Trent, Zayne and Remo had answered a lot of my burning questions and despite my cousin pushing me to give in and accept Lorenzo, I couldn’t. Although the rest of my family hadn’t questioned me about the what and the why behind Jardin’s sudden appearance, I had a feeling my father knew. While he didn’t pry, he always seemed to be around me, just sitting or playing with Jardin as though waiting for me to open up to him.
I wasn’t sure I could bring myself to tell him about my heart, whichI’dbroken this time because I was selfish, because I was scared, because I wasn’t sureIcould handle the truth. That I fell in love at the age of eighteen, one so profound, I didn’t understand then. Sadly, I still couldn’t understand it now. I closed my eyes, wishing that Santa Claus did exist and he could wave a wand or whatever the fuck he did to make wishes come true and give me mine.
“Rayden.” I opened my eyes and blinked to focus. My father was crouching next to me, his hand on my shoulder. “You fell asleep on the carpet, son.” Rubbing my eyes, I stretched and rolled onto my back. “Here.” I squinted at him, waiting for the drowsiness to evaporate. “Hot chocolate.” He gave me one of his comforting smiles. “With four marshmallows, cinnamon and a dash of whipped cream. She made it just the way you like it.” He grinned.
Shaking my head, I smiled and sat up. He referred to Sianna. “Thanks, dad.” I accepted the glass mug and took a sip. He was right. She made it just the way I liked it. I no longer felt any ill-feelings toward her and my father. Things hadn’t returned to normal just yet, but we’d come a long way from that first week when I learned the truth. I would tell them they Lorenzo to thank, if I could.
I was about to stand up when I noticed the blocks still displaying his name. Scrambling hastily to stand, I moved my feet to disperse the blocks and hoped my father hadn’t seen it.
“Rayden, you know I’m here if you want to talk, right?” his deep voice filling the silence between us.
I blew air out on a slow exhale. “There’s nothing to talk about, dad,” I mumbled, immediately pulling down the mask I’d worn since returning. Sipping my drink, I wished he’d walk away. He didn’t.
“It’s been two weeks since you arrived here with a baby in your arms and no explanation. While I love having a grandson, I also want my son back.” His gray eyes met mine, searching for answers I wasn’t ready to give yet. Then he gave me that look and I knew. He was going to talk whether I wanted to know or not. “You’ve been broken for so long, Rayden. Zena. Sianna.Me.” He drew emphasis around the last word with a deep sigh. “We all had a hand at breaking you, piece by piece. And you’re strong, I understand. Sometimes, though, we just need to give in and say fuck it. And while no amount of apology can turn back the clock, I desperately wish it could.”
“Dad—”
“No.” He held up a hand. “Listen to me, son. I have no idea how to fix you. I truly wish I knew how to. But sometimes, what you need is someone to hold you so tight that all your broken pieces will merge once more. Make you whole again. One so profound, you’ll never break again.” He squeezed my shoulder.
I laughed. “It’s okay, dad—”
He shook his head. “I can’t do that, son, even after a thousand attempts. But he can.”
I frowned as he gently turned me toward the door. My breath lodged in my throat as my jaw dropped and my eyes widened when I came face-to-face with an unexpected sight. My heart pulsing for just a beat. Every single tear I’d shed over the last two weeks, no comparison for the heat stinging my eyes right now. “Can’t be,” I breathed, unsure if the vision on the threshold to my room, in my home, on my estate was real. Then he moved. And I wasn’t aware I hiccupped on the air caught in my throat until my father leaned closer.
“He’s all you’ll need to make you whole again, ever.”
I watched Lorenzo Rossi, the one man who’d only ever given me the happiness I needed. The happiness I deserved. And while he asked for my heart, he hadn’t demanded anything from me. Still, I broke his heart. Twice. Yet here he stood, watching me, waiting. I knew for what. He wanted me to decide. He wanted me to take that final step.
“How?” I asked then recognition blindsided me and I turned to look at my father, shock furrowing my brow. “You know?” I could barely get the words pass my constricted throat. Slowly, he nodded. And you’re...you have—” I broke off not sure what to ask. How to ask.
“What have I always told you, son?”
I stared at him, thinking back to our conversations over the years and instinctively knew to which one he referred. “Live every moment to its fullest because it might not be there tomorrow.”
