My parents betrayed me.
I’m talking Benedict-Arnold-screwing-over-America level of betrayal.
No—even worse. Brad Pitt cheating on Jennifer Aniston.
<i ss="calibre2">That’s</i>how deep the well of betrayal runs.
I was under the impression that we would not be spending the holidays with Nico’s family. My father never outright stated it, but the subject hadn’t been brought up again after the night I told them in no uncertain words that having Nico around for Christmas would, and I’m quoting myself here,<i ss="calibre2">hurt me</i>.
But I guess my feelings don’t matter, because as we’re driving away from the airport in our rental car, Dad informs me that the Delgados will be joining us tonight.
Yep, my parents waited until we arrived in Miami to drop this bomb, probably because they knew I’d never board the ne at Logan Airport otherwise.
With a family asrge as mine, the holidays are always a huge production. Christmas Day is spent with my mom’s enormous brood, but Christmas Eve is a quieter affair—just us, and Nico’s family. It’s been a tradition since I was eight years old.
This year, however, it’ll be like the plot line of some awkward holidayedy.<i ss="calibre2">Christmas with the Delgados</i>, starring my cheating ex-boyfriend and my disloyal parents.
As I fume in the backseat, Dad exins that breaking our annual tradition is something he thinks I’d regret in the future. Awesome. Now even my life’s regrets are being decided for me, and they haven’t even fucking happened yet.
I find this absolutely egregious. I don’t care that they’re family friends. My parents could havepromised. They could’ve gone out for dinner with Nico’s parents on their own, sparing me from having to spend any time with Nico. But<i ss="calibre2">noooooo</i>, God forbid we break<i ss="calibre2">tradition</i>. The world will end!
We arrive at Aunt Pa’s house in the early afternoon. She’s the only one of Mom’s sisters who isn’t married yet, and she owns a gorgeous beachfront property. Some people think there needs to be snow on the ground in order for it to be a real Christmas, but having grown up in Florida, for me the holiday season is sunshine and palm trees and the salty spray of the ocean on my face.
I’m still fuming by the time it’s time to leave for Nico’s house. As Dad searches for where he left the car keys, Mom notices my face and pulls me aside. “<i ss="calibre2">Mami</i>, I know you don’t like this—”
“You’re right, I hate it,” I growl.
“But your father made his decision, and you need to make the best of it. Dora and Joaquín are going to be in our lives regardless of whether you and Nico are dating. Dora is like a sister to me, and Papa views Joaquín as a brother.” Mom’s tone softens. “It’s not easy for you, I know. But this is what happens when families are woven so tightly together. So, please, let this be your first test—a test to see if the two of you can be around each other without hostility. Nico is willing to try. He told Dora he was fine with this.”
Of course he’s fine with it. He probably thinks we’re getting back together. That’s what he’s been saying to Darius since the second we broke up.
But Mom is right. The Delgados are their closest friends. They’re family. I have no choice but to suck it up.
I’d debated looking extra hot tonight, but I didn’t want Nico getting any ideas. So I did the opposite—I dressed down. A in white dress, knee-length and with a modest neckline, paired with t brown sandals, not even a hint of a heel. My hair is tied in a low ponytail with a red bow. I look like a child who’s going to perform some cringe-worthy song for the adults after dinner.
Perfect.
Fifteen minutester, we’re entering the familiar house where I’d spent so much of my time. I honestly never envisioned Nico and me<i ss="calibre2">not</i>being together for the holidays.
Or that I’d be sleeping with another guy.
On the regr.
My rebound with Hunter didn’t stop after Conor’s party. We slept together again the next day. And the day after that, and then the day after that<i ss="calibre2">.</i>Yesterday we stayed up all night having sex, even though I had to get up early to meet my parents at the airport.
My body is already craving him again. I’m addicted to it. I never thought I’d be sleeping with a jock, but I kind of understand now why so many women love athletes. God. All those rock-hard muscles. The sheer strength of their bodies. Yesterday Hunter lifted me onto his dick and fucked me standing up against my bedroom wall. Apparently everyone in the house heard the wall banging, and my sorority sisters teased me mercilessly about it this morning. But they’re happy for me. Hell,<i ss="calibre2">I’m</i>happy for me. I deserve good sex with a man who isn’t sexing up everybody else too. Every woman deserves that.
Nico’s family greets me warmly. His little sister Alicia flings her arms around my neck and shrieks, “Oh my God, it’s been<i ss="calibre2">forever</i>!” She’s thirteen and has always viewed me as a role model of sorts. I’m the one she called when she got her first periodst year.
Dora greets me with smacking kisses and a bear hug, and then Joaquín steps forward to give me a hug.
“Damn fool,” he mutters.
I frown slightly. “What?”
His expression turns wry. “My son’s a damn fool.” He says the words softly, so only I can hear him.
My frown dissolves into a faint smile. “Yep.”
Nico still hasn’te downstairs, thank the Lord. I hope he’s cowering in his bedroom. My family is ushered into the living room, where I’m fussed over by Dora and Alicia while Joaquín prepares drinks for my parents.
Then I hear his voice. “Demi.”
I turn slowly. Unlike me, Nico did make an effort with his appearance. He chose ck trousers and a white shirt with the top button undone. His hair is slicked back and he’s fully clean-shaven. He looks really good, but the sight of him only evokes mild indifference. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since the night we broke up. I thought it might be awful when we eventually came to face to face. That my heartbeat would elerate, that I’d experience a pang of longing.
But I don’t. If anything, I feel sorry for him. He almost looks like a little boy as he steps forward. He starts to open his arms, and I give a quick shake of my head.
“Let’s not do that,” I advise.
Disappointment clouds his eyes. “Come on, Demi.”
The next thing I know there’s a ss in my hand. Granted, it’s just a soda, and not the full-to-the-brim ss of tequ I would’ve preferred. But still. Mom to the rescue!
“Let’s help Dora with dinner,” she chirps as she whisks me toward the kitchen.
I follow her without a backward nce at Nico.
Dinner is awkward,at least for me. If it is for our parents, they’re not showing it.
Each time Nico speaks to me, I answer politely. But I don’t engage or borate on anything he asks. He reveals that he quit the movingpany, and I don’t even blink because I don’t care. Then he talks about his new job as a line cook at De’s Diner. I don’t care about that either, except to make a mental note to not eat there anymore. He’ll either spit in my food or mix a love potion into it.
After dinner, the men go outside on the bricked patio to smoke their Cubans, and the women tidy up. Old-fashioned, maybe, but that’s how it’s always been. Alicia and I load the dishwasher and then wash the bigger dishes by hand. She chatters on about the eighth grade and her friends as I pass her pots and pans to dry.
“I can’t believe you and Nico aren’t together anymore,” she whines. “I’m so sad.”
“I know, hon, but things don’t always work out the way you want them to,” I answer ruefully. “Go grab that huge sd bowl from the table, will you? I think it’s thest thing we need to wash.”
As Alicia dashes off, Doraes up beside me. “Nicolás told me what he did,” she says softly. “I want you to know how disappointed in him I am, Demi. I raised him better than that.”
I meet her unhappy eyes. “I’m surprised he actually told you the truth and didn’t conjure up some story that painted him as the victim.”
She snorts. “That boy is incapable of lying to his mama, you know that.”
True. Nico is a total mama’s boy. Besides, Cuban women are scarily perceptive—they can read minds. Even if he tried to lie, Dora would’ve known.
“It’s his loss, Demi. I mean that, even though he’s my son. And you know you’ll always be a daughter to us, no matter what.”
“I know.” I give her a warm hug, and for the first time all evening I experience the rush of longing I hadn’t felt with Nico earlier.
I do love his parents, and it elicits genuine sorrow, the reminder that things will never be the same now that Nico and I are no longer together.
But things change. Rtionships evolve. The same people could remain in your life, people you’ve known for years and years, only they y a different role now.
I blink back tears as I turn off the faucet and dry my hands on a dishrag.
Dessert is served in the living room, where Alicia demands we y a board game. “I got this new one called Zombies!” she exims, and I burst outughing.
“Oh, I’m quite familiar with that one,” I inform the thirteen-year-old. “I’ve yed it numerous times at a friend’s house. He killed me off thest time.”
She gasps. “You got sacrificed!”
“Yep.”
“What friend?” Nico asks suspiciously.
I want to tell him to mind his own damn business. But I can’t be rude in front of his family. “Nobody,” I say vaguely.
He raises an eyebrow. “Really? Nobody?”
For some reason, Dad decides this is a hill he wants to die on, too. “Which friend is this?” he asks.
I roll my eyes at his stern tone. “My friend Hunter.”
“The hockey yer?” Nico demands, eyes shing.
“Yes, the hockey yer. You know the one that you and your little buddies—”
“I know who you mean,” he interrupts, a warning note in his voice.
Aw, he doesn’t want me to rat him out to his parents. Of course not. Dora wouldn’t like it one damn bit if she knew her baby boy was beating people up for no reason.
Our eyes lock for a beat. Nico looks worried I might tattle, and rxes when I don’t.
“Hunter and his roommates are hrious,” I say instead, ncing at Alicia. “They have a board game night a couple times a month, and this is their game of choice at the moment. But I don’t think it’s a good Christmas Eve game, hon. Maybe we should just y charades?”
Mom ps her hands. “Yessss! Let’s do it!”
Dora smiles at her daughter. “Go find those charades cards we wrote upst year,<i ss="calibre2">mami</i>. They should be in the game drawer in the family room.”
Alicia hurries off excitedly.
I get up from my perch on the leather sofa. “I’m going to steal some candy from the bowl in the dining room. Anyone want some?”
“I’m surprised your teeth haven’t rotted off by now,” Nico’s mother chides with a sigh.
“Good genes,” I say, shing my pearly whites. I’m a sugar fiend, yet I’ve never had a single cavity.
I pop into the other room and rummage through the bowl for something cherry-vored. I’m barely gone five seconds before Nico’s gruff voicees from the doorway.
“Can we talk?”
I’ve been dreading this. “There’s really nothing to say.”
He steps into the room. “Look, I’m not going to try to win you back, if that’s what you’re worried about. I get it, we’re done.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“But I did want to say I’m sorry. Not just for what happened with us, but for what I did to your hockey friend. I was drunk that night.” He shifts his feet, looking sheepish.
“You can save your apologies for Hunter. As for me, no apology is going to make up for what you did to me.” I suck in my cheeks as anger ripples through me. “We were together for so long and you yed me like that?”
“I know. I’m sorry, D. I was an idiot, okay?”
“A horny idiot.”
Nico shakes his head. “No. It was about more than just sex. I…”
“You what?”
He makes a frustrated sound. “I can’t exin why I did it. It’s just…it’s hard to live up to your expectations sometimes, okay?”
My eyebrows fly out. “My expectations? Nico. The only expectation I ever had of you was to not stick your dick in anyone else. I hadn’t realized that was an impossible standard to meet,” I say sarcastically.
He scrapes one hand through his ck hair. “You don’t get it. You’re so smart and you’ve always known exactly what you want to do with your life. And I’m just a fucked-up loser from Miami.”
“That’s not true.”
“You’re too perfect, Demi. Even back when we were just friends, I always felt this need to impress you. And then we started dating and the pressure got even worse. I felt like I was trying to live up to something. And those other chicks, they threw themselves at me, made me feel like a big man, and I just ate it up, okay?” He avoids my gaze. “Whatever, it’s pathetic, but it’s the truth.”
“Yeah, it’s pathetic,” I agree, but my psychologist brain has already kicked in. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought that I was emascting him. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, Nico. All I ever wanted was the best for you.”
“I get it. And I tried to be that dude you wanted. I worked my ass off to get into an Ivy League—”
“I never asked you to do that,” I protest.
“I felt like I had to. I knew I’d lose you if we went to different colleges. But…” He sounds frazzled. “But it’s so goddamn hard, D. I study so fucking hard. And I work even fucking harder because my family’s not as well-off as yours.”
“I never asked you to do any of that,” I maintain. But the guilt trip is having an effect on me. “You pushed<i ss="calibre2">yourself</i>, Nico. Whatever urge was pushing you to do it, you still created that pressure within yourself. But if I gave off the impression that I needed you to be some perfect specimen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I always liked you exactly the way you were.”
“Liked?” he says sadly.
“Yeah. That’s usually what happens when you sleep with someone who isn’t me.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I’m disgusting. There’s no excuse.”
“Nope. But here’s a tip for next time, with the next girl—maybe you could talk to her about any insecurities you might be having, instead of needing to go out and get an ego boost from other women.”
“You make me sound even more pathetic when you phrase it like that.”
I sigh quietly. “The fact that you couldn’t talk to me about how you were feeling only shows that our rtionship was never going to work. We were kids when we started going out. We were na?ve to think it was going tost forever.”
“It would have, if I hadn’t screwed up.”
“But you did, and now we’ll never know what would’ve happened.” I brush past him, heading for the doorway. “It’s Christmas, Nico. Let’s go spend time with our families.”
“Demi.”
I nce over my shoulder and find remorse swimming in his dark eyes. “What is it?”
“There’s really no chance, is there?”
“No. There isn’t.”
On the car ride home,I send<i ss="calibre2">Happy Holidays!</i>texts to TJ, Pax, and the other Lost Boys, and then I finally get a chance to text Hunter, who’s spending the holidays in Connecticut. Apparently his father’spany held a holiday party tonight, which Hunter and his mother were expected to attend because, well, because they’re nothing but props for his father.
<b ss="calibre1">ME:</b><i ss="calibre2">How’d it go tonight?</i>
<b ss="calibre1">HIM:</b><i ss="calibre2">Not terrible. Open bar, good food. Danced with my mother to a live version of Baby It’s Cold Outside, which was awkward.</i>
<b ss="calibre1">ME:</b><i ss="calibre2">Awkward? More like hot!</i>
<b ss="calibre1">HIM:</b><i ss="calibre2">FFS! We’re talking about my mother here.</i>
<b ss="calibre1">ME:</b><i ss="calibre2">Was your dad on his best behavior?</i>
<b ss="calibre1">HIM:</b><i ss="calibre2">Of course. He’s gotta put on a show for his adoring fans.</i>
“Demi,” Dad says from the driver’s seat. “Could you please close your window? Your mother’s cold.”
“Mmm-hmmm.” I absently hit the automatic button, but I press it the wrong way and end up opening the window fully rather than doing the opposite. “Oh shoot. Sorry, Mom.” I drop my phone on the seat beside me and click the button again.Published by N?v''elD/rama.Org.
“Who are you texting with?” she asks curiously.
“Just a friend.”
Dad pounces instantly. “This Hunter boy you mentioned earlier?”
I wrinkle my forehead. “Yes. Is that a problem?”
He doesn’t answer for a moment. When he does, suspicion colors his tone. “Nico doesn’t think much of him.”
Interesting. Looks like Nico had more to say when the men went out for their second round of cigars.
“I see.” I nod politely. “Because Nico’s opinion is the mantle by which we measure all wisdom and purity.”
“Demi,” Mom chides from the passenger side.
“What? It’s true? His moralpass isn’t exactly in working order.” I meet Dad’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “When you were outside talking about my friend, did Nico also tell you how he beat Hunter up?”
Mom gasps. “He didn’t! Did he?”
“Oh yeah. Hunter was the one who gave me the heads up about the cheating. Nico didn’t like that, so he tracked Hunter down and roughed him up with four of his friends. Five against one, Dad. That’s how mature adults deal with their problems, right?”
Dad’s cheeks hollow as if he’s grinding his teeth. “Well. That aside, I wonder if perhaps you should keep your distance from this Hunter.”
“Why? This ising out of nowhere. You don’t even know him, and I don’t think you should be taking Nico’s word for anything, please. He’s a liar.”
“He lied to you, yes. But that doesn’t make him a liar.”
“Daddy. If I murdered you, I’d be a murderer. He lied to me, therefore he’s a liar.”
“Semantics.”
I heave a sigh. “Look, I like Hunter, all right? He’s great.”
“Are you dating him?” my father demands.
“Not really.”
Mom twists around in her seat, her meddlesome instincts kicking in. “‘Not really?’<i ss="calibre2">Dios mío!</i>You<i ss="calibre2">are</i>dating him! When did this happen?!”
“We’re not dating.”<i ss="calibre2">Just having sex. Repeatedly.</i>“But if we were, I’d expect both of you to give him a fair shot. Nico isn’t my boyfriend anymore, you guys. Eventually someone else is going to fill that role, and I need you to ept that and be open-minded about it.” I shrug. “As for Hunter, he’s a good guy and I like him a lot.” I meet my father’s eyes again. “And if you met him, you’d like him too.”