I still work at the same company, still walk into the same building where I once tripped over my own feet in the break room. But now my badge saysSenior Operations Manager, and people actually listen when I speak. I earned it for every late night I worked and every project I slayed with a master spreadsheet.
Ethan never once made it feel like I had to choose between him and working late. Instead, he encouraged me, supported me. Like he does with everything.
He’s no longer working for the same company. The morning after our first night together, he marched us both into HR and announced that we were in a relationship and that he would leave the company. Which was news to me. I was prepared to quit my job so we could stay together.
Instead, he took a job that a friend from grad. school offered. It has better pay and a fancier title. I step back, hands on my hips, surveying the tree. “Okay, I think we’re ready for even more ornaments. Especially on the higher branches.”
Ethan raises a brow. “You say that like it’s a challenge.”
“Oh, it absolutely is.”
We fall into an easy rhythm. He hands me ornaments. I decide where they go.
If I can’t reach high enough, he hangs it for me. Making a point of brushing his body against my back as he leans over me, showing off his tallness.I roll my eyes like it bothers me, but I’m not foolinganyone.
I love how tall he is. And I can’t get enough of his body tight against mine.
Occasionally he sneaks an ornament onto a branch I’ve already declared finished just to see me fake-glare at him.
“This one,” he says, holding up a sphere made of white frosted glass.
“That’s new,” I note.
He hums noncommittally. “Saw it and thought of you.”
I take the ornament, turning it over in my hands. It’s heavier than I expected. “Why did it make you think of me? Because it’s cold and brittle?” I wink at him to show I’m kidding.
“Because it’s elegant and classy.”
I snort and then pause. “Huh,” I say. “This opens.”
He inhales sharply but says nothing.
I glance up at him, suddenly aware of the quiet. The house feels like it’s holding its breath.
“Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re smiling weird.”
He exhales slowly. “Okay. Before you open that, I need to say something.”
My pulse kicks up. Old instincts flicker, but they’re gentler now. I’m curious, not yet panicked. “I’m listening.”
“This time last year,” he says, “I was hoping you’d come home with me. Tonight, I’m hoping you’ll keep choosing me. On thegood days. On the days when Christmas is loud and work is stressful and the tree lights won’t untangle.”
My throat tightens. “I already do,” I whisper.
“I know.” He smiles fondly. “But I want to ask you properly.” He sinks down onto one knee.
The room tilts and the lights blur. My breath stutters.
He nods at the ornament in my hands. “Go ahead.”
My fingers tremble as I twist it open.
Inside is a ring.
