I’m glad that he’s at ease again. I give him an encouraging smile as I sip my wine and he talks some more. “Those were good times. I’d take a sledge from the far corner of the garden and go zipping down to the river and repeat it over and over again until Mrs. Perkins would call me to eat.”

My brows shoot up. “Mrs. Perkins?”

“Mrs. Perkins is not as young as she looks. But don’t let her hear you say that.” He raises his hands naughtily.

“And was your brother with you during these escapades?”

His face immediately shuts down and his finger absently runs circles on the rim of his glass. “Most holidays they sent me alone to visit here with Aunt Sylvie. She was my mom’s elder sister and a widow. Having no kids, she was quite fond of me and was like a mother to me. I loved visiting her during Christmas and when I was old enough, I would invite friends over. The Christmas parties here were legendary, especially because Aunt Sylvie welcomed any and all of my friends and let us do what we wanted, mostly.”

“So you didn’t celebrate Christmas with your family?”

He takes his time to reply. Damien leans forward to refill my empty wine glass. He fills his own as well and takes a rather large sip.

“My brother and I never got along,” he explains after a prolonged silence. “And as we grew older, we couldn’t stay in the same house without breaking into a fight. Initially he used to fight with me every Christmas because he wanted whatever I got, even though my parents would gift him something bigger and better than me. My parents indulged him when we were little, but as we grew older, our fights got worse. Fed up with the situation, my parents packed me off here one holiday and I never spent a Christmas again with them.”

My eyes flicker to his as my heart aches for him. How could his parents treat him like that? What kind of an upbringing did he have?

I finally ask, “How old were you when this happened?”

“Thirteen.”

“I’m sorry, but what they did was just terrible.” I shake my head, my lips twisting in disgust.

“Hey, it’s all in the past and I did have a blast with Aunt Sylvie, and later with my friends when they came over. I was so popular in school and a Christmas invite to my place was most sought after. So, it wasn’t all that bad.”

He makes light of the situation but I can see the darkness in his eyes. What horrible parents! How terribly did they impact his life that he left them all and moved to India? And he did not even tell me about them?

I will be a good father to you, I promise.