I grabbed the little wrapped bundle from my dressing table and passed it to Henry, nerves bubbling in my stomach. Would he like it? Or was it stupid?
It took him about three seconds to unwrap the glass donkey ornament, its slightly crooked ears catching the glow of the lamp.
Henry stared at it for a long moment, his fingertip drifting over the wonky glass nose.
‘You got this for me?’ he asked.
‘I thought it looked like Merv. And you love him’
‘It does,’ he said, turning it over in his fingers like it was precious. ‘And I do.’
‘And this is for you.’ He passed over a lumpy, tissue-wrapped bundle. I took it and fondled its squishy form. My curiosity flared up. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his expression going shy in a way that didn’t match the man who’d just had me on my knees.
I tore into the tissue paper and froze.
It was a large, garish Christmas jumper. With a giant golden A on the front. Not exactly something I’d ever wear.
‘I, um. Wow.’
Henry laughed. ‘I know you said you hated Christmas, but I’m hoping it's a little more bearable this year. And you said that you had never really had the festive pyjamas or Christmas jumpers or any real traditions. I thought this could always remind you of Otterleigh Bay. And me.’
A lump formed in my throat so fast I nearly choked on it.
He wasn’t teasing. He’d listened and remembered.
‘Well, I suppose things are looking up this year.’
‘Put it on,’ he said.
The jumper swamped me, but it was warm and soft and a little like Henry.
‘Shit, Amanda, you’re beautiful.’
‘Like this?’
I squeaked when Henry grabbed me and pulled me back on the bed, wrapping himself around me as the jumper rode up just enough that cool air brushed my skin.
‘I like seeing you in something of mine.’
‘It’s hideous.’
‘But it’s ours now. Something that made me feel welcome, that I hope will make you feel the same.’
I’d never had a Christmas jumper, nor silly traditions. I’d always pretended it didn’t matter. That it was stupid.
But lying there, wrapped in something gaudy, felt almost like belonging.
Henry kissed me again, a sweet lingering kiss that contrasted so thoroughly with the heat from earlier, but felt no less important.
‘Merry Christmas,’ Henry mumbled into my hair when I turned over.
‘Merry Christmas, Henry.’
And outside the window, where I’d forgotten to shut the curtains, I saw snow drifting past the moon. For once, I let myself believe in magic.
Even if it was only for a few days.
twenty
