“You do more than that.” I squeeze her waist, letting the soft rhythm she’s scraping against my scalp relax me. “But I do appreciate the view.”
We sit quietly, absorbing the moment.
“I think I need to do this.”
“For you, or for Phoebe?” She rubs her cheek on the top of my head, slowly so it feels like a caress.
“Both. It’s hard to explain, but I think I’ve been afraid of the suit. Of what it means. Dad was the crux of every Christmas memory I have, and probably half this town’s.” I swallow, then continue. “Phoebe’s reaction feels like a reward for surviving it. Is that weird?”
She chuckles softly. “Absolutely not. Every Phoebe reaction is a reward. She never holds back.”
Now that my mind is made up, I have to finish getting dressed and go through with it. But first, I want to steal a moment with my wife.
I untangle myself enough that we can see each other again.
“Thank you for sitting here with me while I work through this.”
Her eyes are endless swirls of green, layered with more emotions than I can name. I could live in them forever.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Aiden.”
I can tell she means it, and I don’t think I’ll ever be more grateful that Evelyn signed us up for the field trips.
I should probably thank her, but she’ll never let me hear the end of it because of how much grief I initially gave her about it.
She brought Chloe back to me and gave us a chance at love again. But even better, we’re helping each other heal and grow—hopefully creating a foundation that will set the bar for how Phoebe perceives her future relationships.
A healthy and honest one, where we choose to hold each other through the uncomfortable parts of life instead of running away from them. When life is messy.
Her lips curve into a smile. “What are you thinking about right now?”
“How lucky I am, actually. I can’t believe this is my life.”
“You’re such a sap, sometimes. Who knew?” she whispers, half-joking but still tender.
“Maybe I’ve just realized how important it is to tell people how I feel.”
She nods thoughtfully. “We should probably all get better about that.”
My hand leaves her waist, then curls around the back of her neck. Like muscle memory, she tips closer, closing the distance between our lips. She’s wearing her favorite marshmallow-flavored lip balm today, and something about that small detail snaps something inside me.
It’s only attached to her—not to this suit, not to the grief—and it reminds me that I’m alive. The most beautiful woman in the world has her arms around me, and every angle of her kiss is proof of life.
I take us deeper, and she matches me, tangled breaths and sighs filling the quiet of her new studio space. New memories, new life.
We pull apart with laughter, and I feel lighter than I have all day. Maybe we should sneak out here for mini makeout sessions more often.
Her cheeks are pink as she smooths down her ponytail.
“Can’t say that I’ve done that in a while,” she whispers. Then, like she remembers the last time we were out here, the blush deepens. “If Phoebe sneaks out here, she reallywillsee Mommy kissing Santa Claus.”
I laugh even louder, and that releases the rest of the tension that’s resided in my body since I unzipped Dad’s suit.
“Thank you for that.”
“Anytime.” She smiles.
She stands and studies me before reaching out and smoothing the white trim on the jacket.
