A Dream Christmas. Кэрол Мортимер
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he cared at all.
“Who is this?”
“This is Luc,” he said. “We’ve never spoken. Em …”
“Blaise’s brother,” she said, sounding somewhat shell-shocked.
“Yes.”
“Are you calling for…. are you calling for him? That’s a stupid question. Who else would you be calling for? But then, why are you calling at all? You never have. Well, obviously you have. But never since I’ve been around.”
“I am calling because things have gotten to a point where it’s clear I owe him an apology.”
“You owe him one?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice rough.
“Hello?”
It was Blaise. He’d picked up another line.
“It’s me,” Luc said.
“So it is,” Blaise said, not sounding particularly friendly.
“I’ll just hang up,” Ella said.
“No,” Luc said. “Stay on, please. It will be easier. You’re a part of this, too, Ella. Because you’re family. I’m not good at this kind of thing. At being sincere and saying nice things. I don’t have a lot of practice.”
“I have more than I used to. I’m sorry,” Blaise said. “I want you to know that. I have wanted you to know that. I’ve wished you would take a call from me for a long time so I could say just that. She wasn’t the one for me, no matter how much I believed it. Even if she had been, what I did wouldn’t have been right.”
“It’s immaterial. You’ve apologized before. And I know … I know I said I forgave you. But that was a lie. I didn’t. I know you know that. I know my not talking to you showed how empty that statement of forgiveness was. I was angry. I’ve been angry. I don’t want to be anymore. I can’t be. Because I think I understand you now.”
“Do you?” Blaise asked.
“Yes. I met a woman. One that … no matter her circumstances I couldn’t turn away from. One that I knew was wrong for me to touch. But I did, anyway. Because sometimes … it’s bigger than you are.”
“I was just being vindictive at the time, I think, Luc. But I do know what you’re saying about love. That’s what I have with Ella. The feelings that surpass everything else. Common sense, common decency. Fear.”
“Yes,” Luc said. “That. But she deserves someone better than me. So I’m trying to be better.”
“Don’t just try,” Blaise said. “Do it. If you’ve found someone like that … nothing else matters.”
“You do. And Ella. I want to be in your lives. I want Amelia and I to be in your lives. First, I have to convince her that she should be with me. After I went to so much trouble to push her away.”
Blaise chuckled, a laugh that sounded so like his. Funny how that worked, as they’d spent so little time together. But the bond was stronger than time. And it was a bond he’d spent far too long trying to sever. No more.
“That sounds familiar. Just go admit you were wrong. They like that.”
He heard a feminine snort through the phone line. “Well, you are wrong. Most of the time.”
“Of course I am,” Blaise said, no sincerity in his tone at all. “And, as much as I’m enjoying the reunion, Luc, I think you have some more pressing matters to attend to.”
“For once,” Ella said, “my husband is not wrong.”
“I will call again,” Luc said.
“Hopefully with good news.”
Luc got off the phone with his brother and sat back in his chair. That was one step. One step in fixing the mess that was himself.
Blaise had talked about love. And Blaise was right. Luc loved Amelia. More than he’d ever loved another person, more than he loved himself.
And that was scary. Really scary. It was, he realized, exactly why he’d fought so hard to convince himself he couldn’t love her. Because the thought of being that exposed to her, of needing anyone that badly, was utterly terrifying.
But life without her would be worse than terrifying. It would be empty. Like his office. Like his chest.
He stood up. It was Christmas Eve, and that meant Amelia was at her parents’ house upstate. And soon, he would be, too.
AMELIA STIRRED THE POT of gravy quickly before taking it off the burner for a moment, letting the bubbles calm down.
She looked around the room. At the little country village her mother had put on the counter, a roll of batting beneath it, acting as snow. There was tinsel tacked around the perimeter of the room, and the warm smell of boiling potatoes and cranberries filled the air and made it humid.
She and her mother were getting as much precooking done as possible before the big day.
Christmas in her family’s historic home certainly didn’t have the glamour that flying around the country with Luc did, but it was a lot less painful, too. And less incredible. And less sexy. But then, her family would never let her go either. As days went, it had been an incredibly draining one.
First she’d lost Luc. Then she’d gone to Clint’s apartment and broken it off with him. They’d both cried. And it had been awful. And she’d held his hand and told him that neither of them would be happy living that way.
And he’d agreed, his hands trembling in hers.
And then she’d gone to her parents’ house and broken the news. Thankfully, her sisters weren’t there yet with their husbands and spate of children. They all spent Christmas morning in their own houses and converged on the family home in the afternoon, for more presents and food.
At least this way she’d been alone for the hard talk with her parents. Clint had given her permission to explain, as long as they didn’t tell his parents. Which he was going to do after the holidays. Ensuring tomorrow would be extremely awkward, since he and his family were coming for dinner.
Though, they’d both agreed they weren’t pretending to be a couple.
“Are you okay, Amelia?” her mother asked.
“I’m fine,” Amelia said, lying.
“You don’t seem fine.”
“It’s been a hard day.”
“I know. I’m so sorry about Clint. I really had no idea.”
“I should have,” Amelia grumbled.
Her mom threw up her hands. “I don’t want to know.”
“No, Mom, you probably don’t. Or hey, you even might. Since the truth is so very, very tame,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, thank you for understanding. And please, please, no hints to his parents tomorrow about why. That’s not exactly the thing you want to give your parents for Christmas.”
“No, no,” she said. “Though, I think things will be okay for him.”
“I hope so.”
“You aren’t mad at him?”
Amelia shrugged. “I’m upset that he wasted my time, but I sort of understand, too. And if I’m honest with myself, I wasted my time, too. I don’t think I ever really loved him, Mom, or I wouldn’t have been happy with the relationship we had. He definitely doesn’t deserve all the blame.”
“You sound too well-adjusted to look so sad.”
Amelia sighed. “The sad is another story. And one that probably doesn’t belong at Christmas dinner either.” She put the gravy back on, keeping her