The Night He Left Us in the Snow

On Christmas Eve, Adrian Moretti left my father and me on an icy lakeside road because Lucia Vale called and said she was sick.

The defibrillator that could have saved my father was in his armored SUV, driven away by the man my father had trusted for seven years.

I called Adrian until my fingers went numb. When he finally answered, Lucia was crying on the other end, and his voice held only impatience.

“Elena, stop making this dramatic. Wait for the escort car. Lucia needs me right now.”

By the time the Moretti men arrived, my father was already gone.

An hour later, Lucia posted a photo from the Moretti estate.

She stood beneath the Christmas tree in Adrian’s coat, pale and fragile, with his hand resting on her shoulder.

The caption read:

Christmas feels like home when he is here.

I looked at that photo for a long time.

Then I liked it and left a comment.

Merry Christmas. I wish you both a lifetime together.

Adrian called almost immediately after I left the comment under Lucia’s Instagram post.

“Elena, what do you mean by that?”

“Lucia only posted a Christmas photo, and you had to leave that kind of comment under it? My father, the advisers, and several senior members of the family are waiting. Dinner is about to start. When are you and your father arriving?”

“We’re not coming.”

“You’d better think carefully,” Adrian said. “The Moretti family was supposed to announce our engagement tonight. If you’re going to make everyone wait because I went to take care of Lucia, then maybe there’s no reason to go through with this marriage.”

My father had prepared for that dinner for a long time.

His health had never been good, but he still wore his dark gray suit and the old silver cufflinks he had bought after closing his first major deal. He said the Reed family could not look careless on its first formal visit to the Moretti estate.

He had never liked mafia families, but he had been willing to believe in Adrian.

When the Morettis questioned my background, my father told me not to retreat. He said a man with a spine would know how to protect his fiancée. When Adrian first took over the family’s legitimate business and ran into trouble, my father made introductions for him and gave him trust many others would not have offered.

“Then let’s not continue.”

I said, “Adrian, we’re over.”

In seven years, we had had our share of arguments and cold silences, but I had never truly said those words. I used to believe that as long as he came back and was willing to explain, there would always be something left between us.

This time, I did not want to wait anymore.

Lucia’s voice came through the phone, soft and weak enough for me to hear.

“Adrian, my stomach hurts again. Can you help me upstairs?”

Adrian did not ask why I had suddenly ended things.