Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I say on an exhale, giving Aiden a grateful look. “It’s going to be a good day.”
“It’s going to be a good day,” he repeats back to me with a lopsided grin.
I reach over to adjust his The Grinch Who Stole Christmas bowtie, then climb out of the car, my boots crunching down on the snowy driveway. I belt my winter coat tighter, checking to make sure none of my grown-out bangs have escaped their pins. Aiden takes my hand and we walk to the front door together.
Before we reach the porch, the entrance swings open and my parents stand there, framed in artificial green garland, watching us approach dubiously.
My steps slow and I have the urge to run back to the car.
Aiden’s grip tightens on my hand and he pulls me forward. “Merry Christmas, Dale and Kendra, it’s a real honor to be here. We meant to arrive a little earlier, but we stopped for hot chocolate. Can’t get enough of the stuff this time of year, can you? My Aunt Edna used to break up a salted pretzel on top of her whipped cream. Just like that. I’ll be polite and not mention the spiced rum she threw in there, too. Accidentally drank from her cup when I was eleven and spent Christmas passed out under the tree in footy pajamas. If you ask me, that’s how it should be spent, rum drunk or not. How’s brunch coming along? Need any help in there?”
I’m staring at my fiancé in disbelief.
Not because I didn’t expect him to open with an Aunt Edna story.
No, that’s pretty much a given.
I’m in disbelief at myself. For not believing this would be okay. In under a minute, Aiden has not only broken the tension, he’s shattered it like it never existed. My stomach knots are untying themselves and…I’m even exchanging a bemused smile with my mother.
“Hi,” I breathe into the cold Christmas morning air. “Yes, he’s always like this. Isn’t it wonderful?” I give Aiden a grateful look, squeeze his hand once and let it go, climbing the familiar steps and stopping in front of my parents. “Merry—”
They throw their arms around me at the same time.
I make a choked sound, reeling in shock for several beats before returning their embrace, a warmth I didn’t realize I was missing spilling back into my limbs. Over their shoulders, I can see into the house. Framed on their entry table is a picture of my first Vivant window. My second one is right behind it at an angle. Same frame every time.
I recognize the hammered bronze design from the Housewares department from Vivant.
Aiden has been sending them pictures of my windows.
“Come on,” my mother says, dusting some snow off the shoulder of my jacket, my father discreetly drying his eyes before stepping past me to shake Aiden’s hand. “Brunch is almost ready.”
On the way into the house, I look back at Aiden over my shoulder.
Snow falls around him, this man who can be both my hero and stand back and let me be my own. This one-of-a-kind man I can’t wait to marry in the spring.
I pack every ounce of love for him into a smile. “I matching robes love you.”
“I matching robes love you back,” he rasps, emotion weighing down every word. Then he climbs the stairs, wraps an arm around the small of my back and walks side by side with me into the house.
THE END