Page 99 of Reckless Hearts

I try to keep my expression neutral. “Oh. Right.”

I don’t particularly like Marcus’s agent. Every time Marcus mentions him, it feels like it’s in the context of Jake trying to control Marcus in some way.

But Marcus credits Jake for building his career, and I can’t deny Marcus’s success—headlining a summer superhero franchise that broke box office records, becoming the face of Gucci, and being shortlisted for thePeopleSexiest Man Alive title—which, honestly, feels like old news to me.

But sometimes I worry about the cost of it all to Marcus. How exhausted he sometimes seems. He hides it under his carefree cocky persona, but I’ve learned Marcus has this inexplicable drive in his career. He’s never satisfied with his achievements. He’s always pushing himself to do better.

Even after a year, I’m still learning how to be the best boyfriend I can be. How to support Marcus toward his career goals while still ensuring he looks after himself.

“I really better get going,” I say, although I can hear the reluctance in my voice. I’m sure Marcus can too.

“Merry Christmas, Seb,” he says quietly.

“Merry Christmas, Seb.”My mother’s bright voice echoes Marcus an hour later as I step into the hallway of their new villa.

My father comes into the hallway with a large smile. It only dims marginally when he realizes it’s me rather than Saskia, which I take as a win.

Their living room looks like a Christmas shop exploded. The tree drips with ornaments ranging from antique glass balls to the macaroni frames Saskia and I made in primary school. Everysurface is draped in tinsel, and the air is thick with the scents of cinnamon and pine, courtesy of a small army of scented candles.

Mum has clearly gone all out this year, perhaps overcompensating for the fact this is our first family Christmas not in our childhood home.

For a second, I imagine what it would be like to be here with Marcus as my boyfriend. Spending the day with him and my family, all the people who mean the most to me, together.

What’s with me today? Is it because it’s Christmas? Is that what has me wishing for unobtainable things?

I’ve barely arranged my gifts under the tree when the doorbell chimes again, heralding the arrival of Saskia and Tom.

From my parents’ reactions, you’d think the three wise men had just turned up.

Saskia and Tom are swept into the house in a flurry of hugs, kisses, and exclamations about how fabulous they look.

My sister gives me a large hug, while Tom offers me a handshake.

“Merry Christmas, Seb.”

“You too.”

I like Tom, but he’s an extension of Saskia, so somehow, it feels like he’s just another thing that draws my parents’ attention away from me.

The conversation immediately starts ping-ponging between Saskia’s latest legal victory and Tom’s golf handicap.

I quietly help myself to some of the eggnog my mother has made.

As is our family tradition, we exchange gifts before we sit down for Christmas lunch.

I hand Saskia a carefully wrapped package.

Her eyes light up as she tears into it to reveal a vintageTitanicmovie poster.

“Oh my god, Seb. This is awesome,” she says.

Tom’s forehead wrinkles as he looks at the poster.

“Saskia used to force me to watchTitanicover and over again,” I explain to him.

“Hey, I was educating you on a cinematic masterpiece,” Saskia retorts.

“Oh yes, being able to recite ‘My Heart Will Go On’ word for word has been so helpful in my life so far.”