Ten Months Later

“Oh… My… God,” Sophia gawked from the other side of the men’s underwear stand.

My heart jumped and I hurried over to her. “What? Are you okay?”

“You have to get Angelo these.”

A silk pair of men’s boxers decorated with red chili peppers dangled from her hand. It’s hot in here, bloated text adorning both the front and the back of the underwear said.

“That’s a waste of silk,” I blandly stated. “Such a great fabric doesn’t deserve to be used in that way. And you scared me. I thought something was wrong.”

“Relax. You’re being paranoid.”

I turned away from her and busied myself with the cotton briefs. “No I’m not,” I said to a shelf so that my twin wouldn’t see just how much her comment hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Soph said after a minute. Her head poked around the stand, fiery red hair just as perfect as when we left the apartment hours ago. “Let me buy you a hot chocolate to make it up.”

I tried to pout, but since I’m an awful actress my lips ended up in a contorted smile. “Don’t dangle chocolate in front of me. You know I can’t say no to that.”

“Department stores make the best.”

Giggling, I scooped up the three briefs I’d picked out. “I know that can’t be true.”

Falling into step with each other, we began lackadaisically walking for the check out. Sophia fingered some long wool dresses on a rack. They looked like something nuns might wear but no doubt Soph would be able to take one and jazz it up in a way that made it haute couture.

Jingle Bells came on the speakers, making it the fourth time the song had assaulted my ears that day.

“Ugh.”

“What?” Sophia asked.

“This song.”

“You used to love this song.”

“I guess I’ve just heard it too many times.”

We halted at the end of the line of shoppers. I craned my neck around, trying to get a rough head count of the people ahead of us. “Looks like we’re going to be here for a while.”

“Is that all you’re getting Angelo?”

I looked at the underwear in my hands. “No. Of course not.”

She adjusted the large pile of clothes in her arms. Someone needed to get my shopaholic sister a grocery cart. She had something in her arms for everyone she knew, and likely had slipped a miniskirt in there for herself as well.

“What else are you going to get him?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

“How about a trip somewhere? You know, something the two of you could do together. Or even just an afternoon thing. There’s this cool new spa in Williamsburg. They offer these couples’ massages that are really unique...”

Her words took on a buzz then all out faded away. Nearby, a male mannequin dressed in a sweater and boots leered at me. Was it just me, or had someone turned the heat in the mall up way too high?

It had to be just me. I’d been increasingly feeling this way all month long. Or maybe before then. Maybe it started in November, once the Christmas tunes started cranking through New York. Every time there was so much as a suggestion of the holidays, I got queasy.

There had been a time when I loved Christmas.

I just couldn’t figure out quite when that time was.

Sophia was done talking.

“Yeah,” I said, hoping just agreeing with whatever she’d finished with was enough.

“Good.” We took a few steps forward as the line progressed and she nearly dropped a pair of women’s boots. Boots most definitely in her size, for the record. “Are you ever going to clear your room out?”

I studied her face. “Do you want me to?”

Over the last ten months, since Angelo and I became an official couple, I’d probably spent less nights at mine and Sophia’s apartment than I had fingers. They’d all been days when Angelo was out of town and I went home to spend time with Soph. Though usually when we had sleepovers we just stayed at Angelo’s. He had door service, a bathtub that was really more like an indoor jacuzzi, and a penthouse bigger than most country homes. Plus, Sophia was known to enjoy sliding down the banister between the two floors after having a drink or two. Our rinky-dink apartment couldn’t really compare.

Sophia’s face scrunched up. “No. I guess I don’t want you to leave.”

“We could just give up the apartment. You could move… anywhere.”

She looked slightly hurt. “Anywhere is big. I don’t want to be away from you.”

My heart squeezed. I went to reach for her hand but, since it couldn’t be found underneath all the clothes, I gave up.

“I can’t wait for tomorrow,” Sophia sighed. “Does this private jet, by chance, come with champagne?”

“Likely.”

“Male strippers?”

“Doubtful.”

“Shit.”

“I’m nervous.”

“About what? You already know Angelo's family.”

“Most of them, yeah.”

“So what’s the problem?”

I chewed on my bottom lip and tried to figure it out. “It’s just… I don’t know… Maybe it’s because it’s Christmas. It makes me think of all the ones in the past.”

“The ones with Mom and Dad?”

“Yeah,” I choked out.

“Have you been remembering any of them?”

I shook my head.

“But you might.”

“Uh-huh.”

But did I want to? I didn’t know. All I knew was I had this impending feeling of doom when it came to Christmas. That suggested I either had a bad and repressed or forgotten memory attached to it or I either had only joyful memories and was just struggling with celebrating the holidays past those.

This is an assumption based on my past experiences working to figure myself out.

But really, heck if I knew. I’m no shrink.

We finally managed to check out. Escaping the mall into Columbus Circle was like being born again. The fresh and cold air hit my lungs, invigorating me and bringing me back to life.

“It’s too hot inside places in the winter,” I grumbled as we ran across the circle in front of oncoming traffic. “It’s like stores are trying to convince us we’re in the Bahamas.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?”

We stopped at the subway entrance and she gave me a kiss on the cheek. “See you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early.”

She hurried down the steps, her four shopping bags so laden down with goods they nearly scraped the cement.

Pulling my hat down further over my ears, I set off along West 59^th, taking the path skirting the south end of Central Park. Though the air was icicle cold, the city had yet to receive its first snow fall.

The lights of the fancy hotels glimmered even in the pre-dusk. This part of the city always hustled with activity, but this time of year added something special. Small potted fir trees lining the streets glowed with white Christmas lights. Doormen grinned as they hurried to help ladies with their bags. Children hung onto parents with gloved hands and jumped up and down to see a policeman on a horse go by.

I seemed to be the only one not enjoying the moment.

Over the past year my memories had been slow coming back. They were mostly unimportant ones. A test taken at school in fifth grade. A sleepover at my junior high friend Jamie’s house on Staten Island.

There wasn’t much in there about Christmas.

I checked the time on my phone. Twenty minutes till I needed to meet Angelo at Rockefeller Center. I could take my sweet time walking there.

Nothing screams Christmas like Rockefeller Center. After turning down onto Sixth Avenue then hanging a left onto 51^st, I arrived at the plaza. Permanent trees strung with blue lights lined the zone, an introduction to the main multicolored Christmas tree.

Ice skaters shrieked and laughed under the shadow cast by the large tree, spinning and flying on the pristine white rink. I stopped at the railing and pressed myself against it. Closing my eyes, I took a long breath. The sounds around me seemed to exist in a weird place between joy and terror. People could either be yelling from happiness or fear. It was hard to tell.

Had it always been that way?

Sophia’s comment about me being paranoid socked me in the gut.

Because it was true. I was paranoid. And anxious. It was kind of hard not to be after you abruptly retrieved the repressed memory of your parents being murdered in cold blood right in front of you.

Processing something like that took some time.

I opened my eyes.

And nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Angelo!” I shouted.

He stood only inches away, pressed against the railing just like me.

“Sorry,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around my back. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay.” I buried my face into his coat.

“How did shopping go?”

“Sophia got herself a lot of nice things.”

He chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“How was your meeting?”

“Good. Looks like we’re making some leeway with the Louisiana properties.” His hand trailed down to grasp hold of mine. “You ready to go home?”

Home.

There could be nothing better than hearing him say the word.

Angelo hailed a cab and we climbed in, snuggling up next to each other in the corner. The light slipped away from the streets as we rode through Manhattan, being replaced instead with the artificial twinkling of the holidays.

The penthouse welcomed us, the perfect temperature. Not too cold. Not too hot. Nothing like a stuffy shopping mall.

Yep. Hands down, Angelo’s was my favorite place in the city.

No sooner did my coat hit the hanger in the front closet than did Angelo’s hands wrap around my waist.

I closed my eyes and dropped my head back against him. He kissed the back of my neck, teasing me around my most sensitive spot there. His palms pressed against my stomach, pulling my back into his chest, and rubbing my ass against his groin. With a growl and a nip against my throat, he swooped me up and carried me across the living room.

Setting me down on the couch, he climbed on top of me. His tie trailed across my navel and I grabbed hold of it and pulled him down for a kiss.

The kiss got hungrier and hungrier. His tongue pushed across mine, exploring my mouth, looking for the next big excitement.

Despite being together for almost a year, sleeping with Angelo never got boring. Never.

I spread my legs wider, nearly falling off the couch in the process. Kissing me deeper, Angelo, sent his hand under my skirt. With a fluid unroll, my tights came down to my ankles.

I started to kick my flats off so that I could get the tights off as well, but Angelo abruptly broke his kiss to flip me sideways. My face pressed into the cushions.

A buckle jingled as Angelo undid his belt. One arm slipped underneath me and he pushed his chest against my back. Sandwiched there, I couldn’t move.

He entered me gently, his hot breath washing into my ear.

I whimpered softly, all my muscles going limp. Taking my ear lobe between his teeth, Angelo nibbled and pumped into me.

I wiggled a little bit, testing out my free rein, but there was nowhere to go. I was held captive.

...And enjoying every second of it.

Angelo's other hand came around my waist to press between my legs. Delicately he rubbed there, adding to the pleasure. I cried as pleasure expanded into an orgasm, pounding through me like thunder.

Sensing my release, Angelo growled in satisfaction.

Withdrawing from me, he flipped me over onto my back and pulled my tights off. Leaning down to press our chests together, he entered me again. His tongue against mine mimicked the movement of his hips, pulsing and pushing into me.

He sped up a little bit, shuddering slightly. I bit his bottom lip, pulling it just hard enough. He came hard, grunting into my mouth.

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close. He scooted down a bit to put his head against my chest.

Already my eyes were getting heavy. Working to suppress a sigh, I trailed my fingers through his hair.

“I’m glad you’re coming tomorrow,” Angelo whispered into my shoulder.

My throat got tight. I was glad, but terrified.

Yet I felt I couldn’t say that, since I couldn’t really explain why I was so scared.

The best I could do would be to just try and forget about the sick feeling in my stomach.

And hope that it would one day go away.