Alexander holds his hands out, trying to ease tensions. “Il est inutile de discuter de l'affaire plus longtemps.”

He’s right. It’s useless.

My father and I will never see eye to eye, and though I could back down and put this issue to rest simply by cowing to his demands, I won’t. I’ve reached the end of the line letting him play puppeteer in my life. If I don’t push back now, it will never end.

I’m already on my feet. There’s no sense in staying.

They can continue this farce of a Christmas dinner without me.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lainey

Watching the red wine spread slowly across the tablecloth feels like I’m experiencing the last vestiges of a waking dream. I sit there wholly apart from the chaos that ensues around me, the crying and the shouting—all of it muffled like I’m in a soundproof box.

Sit up straight.

Stay quiet.

Be polite.

Act gracious.

Never argue.

Emmett and his father go at it like two alpha wolves tearing into each other’s flesh and then…Emmett’s gone.

The fight is over.

My grandmother places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You behaved wonderfully, darling.”

Except this time, her praise doesn’t feel good.

Her words aren’t the salve I need them to be. I frown and shake my head, looking around the room, first at Emmett’s ridiculous mother shouting about her ruined dress, then at his overbearing father, who’s still pacing with fisted hands, and last at his brother, who’s gone back to eating his food as if nothing’s happened.

I can’t stand it for one more second.

The absurdity of everyone here has me leaping to my feet and tossing my napkin on the table.

“Where are you—”

My grandmother doesn’t get to finish her question.

I’m going after Emmett, but he has the advantage with his head start and his longer, anger-filled strides. When I first spot him, he’s already clear across the hotel lobby. I shout for him to wait, but I don’t think he hears me before he flings the door open and escapes out into the night.

Rather than give up, I curse under my breath and hurry faster. One silly high heel slips off my foot and then, annoyed, I shake off the other, glad to be rid of them as I run and push the hotel door open. Immediately, icy wind tears into me. My feet go numb in a matter of seconds. My eyes water and fight to stay open. I wrap my arms around my chest to try to protect myself as best as possible as I turn in a circle, looking for Emmett.

He’s gone, down the sidewalk, taking off without a car.

“Emmett!” I shout.

The howling wind doesn’t let up.

“EMMETT!”

He turns and looks back, anger still evident in his dark features. There isn’t a moment that passes between him turning around and him rushing back to me, whipping off his suit jacket so he can wrap it around me tightly.