“What is this place?” I grip Dominic’s hand in my mittened one and look around at all the food stands, displays of merchandise, and decorations. So many decorations.
“It’s the Christmas market.” Dom lifts his hand to wave back to someone.
“Well, yeah. I mean, I know that’s what you said on the drive over.” I can’t stop looking around. “But I didn’t know it was like this.”
“You like it?”
I nod, noticing a whole bunch of people in line to get—I squint my eyes—apple cider mini donuts. “Holy shit. We need that.”
Dom chuckles, seeing where my eyes are focused. “The food is the reason I come. That and my mom would throw a fit if I didn’t.”
“Your mom is here?!” I nearly choke on my gasp.
Dominic looks down at me, a brow raised. “I know I told you that. Are you alright?”
Am I alright?
No. No, I’m not alright.
I nod my head again anyway.
Dom squeezes my hand, his fingers bare, apparently unaffected by the evening chill. “We’ve got a bunch of family here that will want to see you, but if you ever feel too crowded by them, just point to something you like, and everyone will fall over themselves to buy it for you.”
I look up at Dominic, letting him see my incredulous expression. “I’m not doing that.”
He smirks. “Figured as much. But that’s okay. I transferred some money into your account.”
I stop, making him stop with me. “You what?”
He tugs on my hand, forcing me to keep walking into the market. “I haven’t had time to get you your own credit card yet, but I will.”
“Dom, that’s not the problem.”
“Then what’s the problem, Shorty?”
My sigh is loud. “You don’t need to give me money. I have my own credit cards.” I lift my purse, shaking it for good measure. “With my own money.”
“Valentine, you’re my wife. I’ll give you whatever the fuck I want.”
Eyeing him, I let go of his hand so I can slip my phone out of my purse.
I feel like he probably did tell me that his family would be here, and maybe he mentioned his mom, but I was too stressed out to pay attention.
It’s not that I hate Christmas. I don’t.
Or rather, I don’t want to. But my brain won’t let go of bad memories long enough for me to enjoy the holiday in the present.
And I made such a shitty first impression on his mom at my birthday party… I almost cringe thinking of it.
Nearly breaking into tears at the table… Fucking her son in the bathroom… I’m sure she thinks I’m real classy. So I really can’t have another mental breakdown in front of her. And that’s what Christmas does to me, so this should be a ton of fucking fun.
I swallow down a self-pitying groan.
As my phone opens my banking app, I rub my fingers together inside my mitten, secretly loving the feeling of having a ring to wear again. Dom surprised me with it this morning, having brought it to a jeweler so now it’s resized to fit me perfectly.
My phone screen changes, the app opens, and I nearly throw up.
“Dominic!” I yank on his hand.
“What?” He halts, looking around before looking down at me.
I hold up my phone for him to see the same bank balance I see.
And then he rolls his eyes.
This motherfucker rolls his eyes at me like I’m the one being absurd.
I lift my phone higher so it’s even with his eyes. “You gave me eighty thousand dollars.”
He finally stops walking and turns to face me. “Yeah, Valentine, I gave you some money.”
“Some?” I nearly screech.
“Yeah. Some.” He snatches my phone out of my hand, drops it into his pocket, and grabs my hand again to start walking. “I told you; I’ll get you a card soon, then you can spend whatever you want. But this will hold you over until then.”
“Hold me over,” I repeat slowly. “This is more than most people make in a year, you… you… crazy man.”
“You’re welcome to spend it or hoard it however you want.”
“It’s…” I can’t even think of the right words to explain how insane this amount is. “Why eighty? Why not, like, two?”
“If you want two hundred grand, just say so. I just chose eighty because it was more than the seventy-five your dad gave you.”
My mouth opens, and I have to hurry to keep up as my arm stretches out between us.
“There is so much wrong with what you just said.” I shake my head. “First off, I meant two, as in two thousand. Which would be more than I’d spend on… anything. And second, you’re not in a competition with my dead father.”
“First.” His tone is mocking. “I’ll probably spend two thousand tonight. And second, your dad is still ahead of me with the tuition he paid for. But I’ll even that out soon enough.”
“I don’t even know what to say to you.”
Dom’s hand flexes around mine. “You could just say thank you, husband. How would you like another amazing blow job, husband?”
“Dominic!” I hiss, spotting his mom approaching us.
He laughs. “You’re too damn cute.”
My face scrunches up as I try to decide if I want Dom to think of me as cute.
“My favorite newlyweds.” Bibi greets us with her arms open, awaiting hugs.
Wanting to get the awkwardness out of the way, I step ahead of Dom and take the first hug. “It’s nice to see you again.”
She pulls back and grips my upper arms. “Aww, look how cute you are!”
Dominic snorts, but I ignore him.
I didn’t realize just how vast this market was going to be, but Dominic told me it was outdoors and to dress warm. So I did, with dark-wash stretchy jeans tucked into leather ankle boots, a sweater under my tan peacoat, and a bright white knit hat that matches my mittens.
Bibi moves to hug Dominic, and I melt a little watching him bend down to wrap his mother in a big hug.
He’s in his usual all-black everything, the long black wool coat his only concession to the cold December air. His hand and neck tattoos are the only ones visible, and they play against his pretty blue irises.
I already know every woman here is going to gawk at him. Case in point, a tall stunner is walking past, a man at her side, but her eyes are all over Dominic. And I want to strangle her with her scarf.
Deep breath, Val.
I can’t believe we’re already halfway through December. It seems like my life got flipped upside down just yesterday, but it’s been weeks.
I don’t think I’ve exactly forgiven Dominic, and I’ll probably still have insecurities about him for a while. But I’ve spent enough time with him now to see that the man I met in the airport, the one I texted with for over a month, the one who made me feel good about myself… It’s him. He’s the same man I thought I knew. I just didn’t know everything.
“Come on, let’s go get your wife something to drink. Then we can start shopping,” Bibi says over her shoulder as she starts to stroll down the gravel aisle.
“You heard the lady.” Dom places his hand on my back, and we follow her.
The market takes up a large open space that must be some sort of park, as we’re not far from the lake. But it feels like the size of a city block, and there are so many people here I’d call it packed. Lines at all the food stalls, crowds in front of the merchandise stalls, people standing shoulder to shoulder along the outskirts while they sip steaming drinks.
It feels like too many people.
I tug on Dom’s jacket, making him bend down to hear me.
“Is it safe to be here?” I ask. “With, well, whoever is out there?”
I don’t know the details about who is killing Dominic’s men. And honestly, I don’t really want to know. But every night since that Christmas party, and the amazing sex I had with Dom in the gym, I’ve gone to bed alone because he’s been staying out late, looking for the ones responsible. I usually wake up a little bit when he comes to bed in the middle of the night and drapes himself over me, but when my alarm goes off in the morning, he’s gone again.
I was surprised when he came home earlier this evening and told me we were going out. And now that I’m looking at these crowds, I’m even more surprised.
Dom slides his hand up my back and around my shoulders. “I know there are a lot of people here. But a hundred of them are mine.”
“A hundred?”
He nods. “Half of them are around the perimeter, and half are walking through the crowd.”
I’m tempted to ask him if they know who they’re looking for. But I don’t.
I shake my head. “I cannot eat another bite.”
Bibi laughs. “Okay, fine. We’ll just hop in line and meet you back here.”
She gestures to the pretzel stand a few stalls down before she and one of Dom’s aunties wander that way.
Between the donuts, mulled wine, bratwurst, stollen, and hot chocolate, I don’t know where the tiny woman plans to put another bite.
A stand with brightly painted wooden bowls is just on the other side of the aisle, so I step over to it while I wait for the ladies to get their food.
The colors on all the pieces are amazing, but my fingers trace over the surface of one bowl that’s been painted to look like intertwined stained-glass stars.
I pick it up, turning it around slowly, taking in the blues and golds.
There is literally no reason I need this hand-painted serving bowl, but I still flip it over to check the price written on the sticker on the bottom.
I nearly put it back, the price being higher than I’d usually allow myself to spend on something like this, but then I remember the eighty thousand dollars that just got added to my bank account and decide fuck it.
“I’d like this one, please,” I tell the woman behind the display, handing her the bowl and my debit card.
Dominic broke off from us a little while ago to wander with one of his uncles. He didn’t really give a reason why they couldn’t just walk with us, but his mom’s need to stop and look at every single ornament probably had something to do with it.
The woman wraps the bowl in brown paper, then slides it into a plain white bag.
I thank her and tuck my card back into my wallet, then hold the bag in one hand and my purse in the other.
My feet turn me the wrong way at first, and I only notice when I don’t see the pretzel stand, so I stop and turn back the other way. Except when I spot the pretzels, I don’t see Bibi.
Excusing myself as I bump into someone, I walk past the stand. But they aren’t there.
I spin around.
Maybe they went to find me.
But I didn’t see them walking over here.
I take a few steps.
What if I’m going the wrong way?
I stop.
They didn’t leave.
I say it to myself again.
They didn’t leave.
I spin around again. I can’t see them.
Stay calm. It’s okay.
Facing away from the pretzel stand, I start to walk.
The market is only so big.
They couldn’t have gone far.
Dominic is here somewhere.
Dominic has a hundred men here.
Except I don’t recognize anyone.
I try to walk quicker, but it’s still so crowded.
Breathe.
I stop again, and someone bumps into me from behind.
“Sorry,” I mumble as I open my little purse.
I’ll just text Dom, tell him to find me.
But I don’t see my phone.
I yank my mittens off and tuck them under my arm. With bare hands, I dig through the contents of my purse, but I can already see that there’s no phone.
I close my eyes as I try to think of where I left it. Then I remember Dominic taking it out of my hand when I was looking at the money he sent.
I don’t have a phone.
I’m separated, and I don’t have a phone.
Panic slithers through my brittle defenses, and I spin around again.
Where is everyone?
Angling my body, I weave through more people until I get to one of the intersections, where the paths of Christmas fun spread out in all four directions.
There are so many people, but none of them are familiar.
It’s okay. You’re just lost. Not left.
My chest starts to hurt.
Where is Dominic?
My vision starts to get blurry, and I blink.
Just breathe.
I try to. I try to pull in an even breath. But…
I try again.
Panic is winning.
I need to find Dominic.
I whirl around again, deciding to pick a new direction. But I’m too distracted, and my foot catches on something, stopping its motion while the rest of my body continues forward.
I trip over the front wheel of a baby stroller. And there’s enough time for me to let out a little shriek as my hands stretch out, and I catch myself on the rough gravel with my palms.
The sting of sharp rocks meeting skin is instant and causes me to lose my battle against the tears.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” A woman crouches down next to me. “I’m so sorry.” She apologizes, even though we both know I was at fault.
She grabs my arm, helping me up. “Are you alright?”
I nod, using the backs of my hands to wipe at my cheeks. “I’m okay.”
The words sound anything but, but I don’t have it in me to explain that my crying has nothing to do with falling. So I hurry away.
It only takes a few steps to notice that my knee is aching. I must’ve landed on that hard, too.
I wipe at my cheeks again and blink. But still, none of the faces around me are familiar.
My lower lip trembles with the urge to yell Dominic’s name. If I focused on taking a breath, I could probably yell it pretty loud.
But what if I yell for him and he doesn’t come?
He didn’t leave me.
Dominic is here; he didn’t leave me.
But no matter how many times I tell myself that, I can’t drop the disgusting worry that maybe he did.
I stumble a few more steps.
What if he left me?
There’s a part of my brain that knows I’m fine. A part that knows this is just a trauma response. More shit I need more therapy for.
But the other part of my brain is in charge right now. And that part is spiraling.
I suck in another jagged breath.
I can’t see the faces around me anymore. My vision is too fuzzy.
If they were people I knew, they’d say something. They’d get Dom.
But even with all these people, no one recognizes me.
What if everyone left?
I spot a break in the crowd ahead and push through it.
I keep going, not turning, until I find the edge of the market.
No one stops me.
No one calls my name.
I cut through the final flow of people and find an unoccupied bench on the outside of the last aisle. I lower myself onto it slowly because my knee is really starting to hurt. Once I’m seated, I set my purse in my lap, then—careful not to bump my injured palms—I pull the bowl I just bought out of its bag.
When I fell, I felt the bowl get smashed between my elbow and the ground, and I need to check to make sure I didn’t break it.
Peeling the paper away, I ignore the ache in my elbow and bite down on my lip. Hard. Because the top edge of the bowl is chipped—a piece of the shiny paint missing, revealing a jagged half-moon of dullness.
My thumb rubs over the spot as a tear drips off my cheek and splashes onto the curved surface of the bowl.
This is only a moment.
I will be happy in another moment.
I try to do the three rule thing my therapist taught me.
I try to look for three things. I try to hear three things. I try to focus on three things in my body.
But all I see are the broken parts.
Because everything breaks on Christmas.
