“Wow,” Tristan joked. “You’re not even playing fair.”

“I really hate doing this. Trust me, as much as you’ve been looking forward to your daddy-daughter Christmas celebration, Nia has been looking forward to it even more. If you agree, because I’m in no way suggesting you don’t have a choice, you can have her for all the major holidays next year, and I guess you can recreate your Christmas a week late.”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to be selfish enough to demand he got the time with Nia he’d been looking forward to, planning for, and even adjusting his business opening hours to accommodate. The time he’d planned to be so selfish with that he’d refused his mother’s continuous pleas that he bring Nia to Florida so they could spend Christmas with the rest of the extended family. He really wanted to. But he couldn’t.

There would be more Christmases, but hopefully, Lorraine would never have another wedding day. At four, Nia had no real concept of time anyway, so it would be just as much Christmas to her when she returned from Barbados as it would be in four days once the Christmas tree stayed up and the gifts remained under the tree. There was only one decision he could make when all was said and done.

“I guess I get to go figure out what I’ll do with all that time I blocked off,” he said, knowing he sounded defeated but not too pressed about it. He was agreeing to this because it was the right thing to do. That didn’t mean he needed to pretend he wasn’t disappointed.

Lorraine smiled widely at him, gratitude shimmering around her. Perhaps if they were closer — if things had ended better — she might have pulled him in for a friendly hug. Instead, she nodded at him and showed him to the door with noticeably lighter steps.

“I owe you,” she whispered once he returned the rest of Nia’s stuff from the car.

“That you do,” he responded, but his voice was light. He gave her a small salute and headed back to his car to contemplate how his plans to have the perfect Christmas had shattered in the blink of an eye.

3. Cosima

Chapter 3

Cosima

Cosima removed her large square-shaped tortoiseshell glasses, rubbed her eyes, and rolled her shoulders back, trying to stretch out the tension gathered there from the hours she’d spent at her computer finishing the last bit of work she needed to get done before she could officially log out for Christmas.

She couldn’t believe that despite what she told her mother, she hadn’t started preparing for Christmas yet.

It was the day before Christmas Eve, and she still hadn’t selected a Christmas tree, much less figured out a theme so she could begin purchasing décor.