“And you don’t approve of that?”
“On the contrary, I’m grateful to my grandparents for finding a way to raise us with a ‘normal’ attitude to money despite what we would one day control. I know Yaya thinks about her children every day. She is a beautiful woman, kind-hearted and with a ready smile, but there is something in the depths of her eyes that I see whenever we’re together. Her grief, and regrets, are constant.”
Isabella sighed softly. “That’s really sad. I’m so sorry for her.”
“I am too.”
“She’s going to miss you this Christmas.”
“She’ll forgive me.”
“Yes, but –,”
“Believe me, I’m mindful of what skipping Christmas will mean to her – and my family. There is nothing that can be done about it.”
Isabella felt a swelling of selfishness – because despite what he was missing with his family, she couldn’t help but be glad they’d ended up stranded here, two strangers on the edge of the earth.
“The weather should clear soon. A few more days, at most.”
She wondered if he had any idea what those gruffly spoken words did to her insides. Did he know that instead of feeling relieved at that prospect, something like remorse washed through her?
“Great,” she pushed a smile to her face. “Just a few more days then.”
11
IT WAS SORT OF AN out of body experience. Gabe watched himself as he climbed the tower of the eastern most turret, ascending a well-worn spiral staircase and kicking dust plumes as he went, until he reached the top – a darkened storage space with dormer windows panelled with antique glass showing a different perspective on the forest, and valley beyond. Everything was a shade of white, except for the fronds of the pine trees that could just be seen poking through the blanket of snow. It was also colder than the arctic.
He moved quickly, breath erupting in clouds as he curved his hands around a sturdy cardboard box and lifted it. A sound tinkled as he hoisted the cardboard to hip height, continuing to tinkle as he walked down the stairs. The whole way, he watched himself, a huge part of him urging his mind to change – it wasn’t too late. She hadn’t seen him yet. He didn’t have to go through with this.
Memories plunged into his soul, memories that were sharp and painful, memories that almost stole his breath completely, yet each step was also a sort of exorcism, wiping the memories – or at least reducing their ability to wound him.
Once he reached the first floor, he strode towards the kitchen, almost certain she’d be there. Sure enough, when he walked in, she was pulling something out of the oven – sweet smelling, so he felt an immediate lurch of hunger despite the three croissants he’d eaten at breakfast.
“Hi,” she smiled sweetly as she faced him, her cheeks pink – from surprise or the oven? It didn’t matter, the effect was the same. Desire, fascination and longing flooded his veins. What was it about this woman? She was beautiful, sure, but he’d known a heap of beautiful women and none had ever embedded themselves in his consciousness quite like this. He’d never had difficulty enjoying the brevity of a satisfying sexual fling, then saying goodbye, and never thinking of them again. But with Isabella, the more he knew of her the more he wanted to see. Her eyes drifted to the box in his hands, jolting him back to his purpose.
“What’s that?”
He moved to the table, his heart thumping his ribs hard, the enormity of what he was about to do – the fact it was now too late to change his mind – weighing on his chest.
“Have a look,” he encouraged, wondering if his motives weren’t just a little selfish when she came to stand in front of him, brushing his arm then pausing right at his front. He could feel her body warmth through his clothes, breathe in her sweet vanilla fragrance.
He closed his eyes on a small exhalation, then opened them at the sound of cardboard being handled. He watched as she slid finger into the opening, to separate the lid, lifting the sides and leaning forward, to peer in. He braced himself. There was no turning back.
She was quiet as she reached in and lifted something out – a ceramic star with a red ribbon attached. She spun around abruptly, her expression showing surprise at his nearness, her lips parting on a gasp, her eyes flying to his. Gabe held his ground, a challenge in his proximity – but there was also the courage he was taking from standing so close to her. It was only Isabella that made this possible. Were it not for her, the box would have stayed in the turret, stowed as far away from him as possible, a relic of a time he would always be haunted by.
“It’s an ornament,” she said with a small frown.
“Actually, it’s a box of them,” he agreed, tension humming through the words.
“But…why?”
He forced himself to continue, even now, when there was a chance he could break away from this idea. But her face – her admission of what Christmas meant to her – his ability to do this one special thing for someone who really, really deserved it…he had to overcome his own pain to do this, and it was worth it.
“Because without ornaments the tree will look sort of lonely.”
Her brows shot up. “What tree?”
His body moved closer, so their thighs were brushing, and he gestured towards the window. “Any tree. It’s your choice.”
She gaped at him. “You can’t mean to cut one down?”
“Why
