“Hey!” Phoebe tugs on my coat. “You’re supposed to save that for midnight!”
We break apart enough to laugh, and I tug her into a group hug.
“Sorry,” Aiden says. “Your mom looked like she needed a kiss before then.”
“No more till midnight.” She tips her face up toward us. “You might ruin the magic.”
I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about, but I assume it’s probably kid-logic.
We edge closer to the fountain at the center of town, trying to find a spot in the crowd that doesn’t feel stifling. There’s a stage set up on one side of the square, where a series of musicians have rotated through all night for a New Year’s Eve concert.
Dean Jackson is currently belting out a ballad on the stage, a countdown clock projected onto the old brick of the town hall beyond him. Gold ribbons flutter from lampposts, catching the light.
I tuck into Aiden’s side, wrapping an arm around his waist beneath his coat.
Everyone herechoseto be here—at this moment. With these people, in this place. They’re either celebrating or looking for something. I didn’t realize how badly I needed the reminder until tonight.
And it feels like Enchanted Hollow is hitting me over the head with it between Mom and Evelyn. The town itself.
A different kind of magic, I suppose. The kind that shows up when you need it to.
You keep love when you choose to. Over and over and over.
Aiden presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You okay?”
“I said no more kissing!” Phoebe squeals, half-irrational. “You’re going to ruin it!”
A laugh spills out of me. “I’m fine. Just… enjoying the moment.”
He angles his head so it probably looks like he’s whispering to me, but presses a kiss to the sensitive skin below my ear. Shivers race down my spine.
“Does the world feel like it’s ending?” he murmurs.
“No,” I whisper. “It feels like it’s beginning. Like I can breathe.”
“My wife, the warrior.” His lips curve against my skin, and I feel like I might burst. “Keep fighting through the rest because there’s so much on the other side. We can just sit and take it all in.”
Aiden sees something in me that I’ve never acknowledged: a bruise that’s never fully healed because every time life gets hard, I subconsciously press on it. Just so I can’t feel like I don’t matter or that I don’t measure up.
He saw it, and when it became more than I could handle, he stepped in and helped carry it. But the important part is that he didn’t try to shoulder the heaviest parts. He sat beside me while I did the work and reminded me that he wasn’t going anywhere.
And it’s a priceless gift I’ll treasure for the rest of my life.
There’s a good chance I’d have gotten here eventually, but Dad’s health scare sped it up. That seems to be a theme lately: getting everywhere we need to go faster, or out of order.
But since we got to Enchanted Hollow, I haven’t had a choicebutto slow down. To feel instead of fix, standing still instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I didn’t realize how out of kilter my nervous system has been, because it’s my normal. Only… It’snotnormal.
He hasn’t tried to steer me in the right direction, or mother-henned me as I did with him. But I think he knew better.
Instead, he’s stood sentry to the process, letting me live in the uncomfortable. Reassuring me when necessary, reminding me that he’s here. He’s staying.
And it’s only made me love him more.
The bells start to chime, low and resonant, echoing off the buildings. The crowd shifts, people drawing closer to whoever they came with.
“It’s starting!” Phoebe wedges herself between us and grabs both our hands. “We have to stay together,” she says firmly. “That’s the rule.”
