Page 23 of Ribbons and Roses
“We’ve been over this, Jon. I love you as deeply as you love me. Losing you would be…” I can’t even bring myself to finish.The mere thought tears me up, my blinks coming faster as I fight off emotion.
Salvatore pulls me toward him ’til our brows are touching, and then he’s squeezing my hips. “Hey, keep calm. Breathe. I promise I’m not going nowhere. If Lucius and his bullshit couldn’t keep us apart, do you think some freak accident on a boat will? What have I told you? I won’t let anything keep us apart.”
“I know,” I whisper, more to myself than anything. “I know.”
“I mean it, Phi. You and the kids are my heart. If I’ve got to walk on water to make it to you—or through fucking flames—I’ll do that. I’ll always find a way.”
We spend a few seconds basking in each other’s presence. I’m slowing my breathing, focusing on the fact that Salvatore’s right. He has made it out unscathed. Dad, Marcel, and Stitches are all okay too.
There’s no need to panic.
Except…
“How did it happen?” I ask. “How did the boat flood like it did?”
“That’s what we’re still trying to figure out. The boat had to have already been like that when we rented it from the rental company.”
I bite back the urge to tell Salvatore about the strange premonitions I’d received earlier in the day. It’s possible I am so attuned to him that I sensed danger was striking even at a distance. It’s also possible I’m being paranoid.
This holiday trip to the cabin was supposed to be joyful and carefree. It was supposed to show Salvatore what Christmas could be for a family as loving as ours.
Thankfully, it’s not too late. We still have the rest of the trip to celebrate.
We return to the dining room and finish setting the table. The others are already gathered around, eager to dig into tonight’s dinner.
Everyone except Marcel, who said he wasn’t feeling well.
“This pot roast is succulent,” Dad says with an approving wink. “Delphi, you’ve outdone yourself this time.”
“Sasha provided the recipe.”
“Off Google,” Sasha says. “Delphine was the real mastermind.”
“That’s no surprise,” Stitches jumps in. “Remember how you burned the last pot roast you tried to make?”
Several of us at the table share amused glances as Stitches and Sasha bicker about this alleged pot roast that may or may not have been burned.
“Daddy, can you take me and Bryce sledding?” Dominic asks, his eyes round with hope. “Mommy said we had to be good.”
Salvatore’s blue-green gaze meets mine from across the table. I already know the look. He’s endeared by the fact that his eldest son is looking forward to sledding with him.
“Of course I’ll take you,” he says. “But do you remember what we talked about?”
“Yes, I’ve gotta eat all my veggies!”
“That’s right.”
“I wanna go too!” squeaks Serena from her booster seat. She picks up a floret of broccoli and holds it up to show us she’s eating the vegetable. She munches on the floret to cheers all around the table.
Salvatore scrubs at his jaw, chuckling along. “Yes, Rena. You can come too.”
“Who would’ve thought? The secret to getting little kids to eat their vegetables is bribery,” Dad says.
“I seem to remember you using a similar tactic, Dad,” I point out, smirking.
“Except it didn’t always work. Your brother chose to sit there for hours rather than eat a lima bean.”
“I tend to be stubborn once I’ve made up my mind on things I don’t care for.”