"We did it," I said, surveying what we'd accomplished.
"You did this." Bart wrapped his arms around me from behind. "The promotion, the volunteers, the organization—it wouldn't exist without you."
"We did it together." I leaned back against his chest. "I can't believe it's actually happening tomorrow."
"Nervous?"
"Excited. And yeah, a little nervous." I bit my lip. "What if something goes wrong?"
"Hey." He turned me to face him. "We've got this. Everything's set. We've planned for every contingency. Tomorrow we're going to make Christmas magic happen."
The certainty in his voice eased my nerves. "You're right. We're ready."
That evening we made a simple dinner of chicken and roasted vegetables. Bart opened a bottle of wine he'd been saving, and we ate in the dining room while snow fell softly outside the windows. My worry about Drew tried to surface—I knew I’d have to deal with him eventually—but I pushed it down.
Christmas was about hope and community and what Bart and I had been building together. I wasn't going to let Drew's bullshit ruin that.
"You're quiet," Bart observed, refilling my wine glass.
"Just thinking about how many lives we're going to touch."
"It's going to be incredible."
"Yeah. It really is."
After dinner, we cleaned up together, moving around his kitchen with the easy rhythm we'd developed, then went to bedearly. Exhausted from two solid weeks of preparation yet wired with anticipation for what the next day would bring.
I nestled against him, his arm secure around my waist, listening to his steady breathing.
"This is going to change everything," I whispered.
"Good everything," he murmured against my hair.
"The best everything."
I drifted off wrapped in his embrace, dreaming of grateful tears and children's laughter and the way I felt right now.
Tomorrow we’d deliver Christmas to people who needed hope.
Tomorrow everything we'd worked for would come to life.
Chapter Six
Bart
