"That was terrifying," she says.
"But fun?"
"Yeah. Surprisingly."
I pull her closer, just testing the boundaries. Out here in the cold, with the lights and the ice and the distance from the house, it feels safer somehow, like we can exist in this bubble where the rules don't apply.
"Thank you," she says quietly. "For this. For everything."
"Always."
Her hand comes up to my chest, fingers brushing over something under my jacket and hoodie. My father's pendant that I've worn every day since I was twenty-one.
"I've seen you wear this," she says, curiosity lighting her features. "What is it?"
I pull the chain out from under my clothes. The pendant is simple, a small silver wolf, worn smooth from years of wear.
"My dad gave it to my mom when they got engaged. It was his most prized possession, his grandfather's, passed down through generations." I hold it out so she can see it properly, the metal catching the light. "When he died, Mom gave it to me. Said I should have something of his."
Maya touches it gently, reverently. "It's beautiful."
"It's supposed to go to the person you love most. Dad gave it to Mom, she gave it to me, and I'm supposed to—" I stop, the words catching in my throat.
"Supposed to what?"
Give it to you.
The words stick. We haven't said"I love you"yet, haven't crossed that final line, but standing here with her, watching her trace the silver wolf with careful fingers, I know.
I'm going to give her this pendant, going to claim her properly the way my dad claimed my mom, going to make sure she knows she's mine and I'm hers in every way that matters.
Just not tonight.Not yet.
"I'm supposed to give it to someone important," I say instead.
She looks up at me, something in her eyes that says she knows exactly what I'm not saying.
"Well," she says softly. "That's a big responsibility."
"It is."
"Better make sure you give it to the right person."
"I will."Already have, I think, but don't say.
We stand here in the center of the rink, the cold forgotten,just looking at each other. Her hand's still touching the pendant like she's already laying claim to it, and my hand's on her waist, thumb brushing against her jacket in small circles.
The back door opens, shattering the moment. Emma leans out.
"You two want hot chocolate?" she calls.
"Yeah!" Maya yells back, and just like that, we're back to playing our roles.
The moment breaks. We skate, well, I skate while supporting Maya, back to the edge, and I help her off the ice and onto solid ground, steadying her when she wobbles.
Inside, the kitchen's warm and smells like chocolate and cinnamon. Emma's made hot chocolate with whipped cream, and Max is demanding attention from everyone. Ethan's awake again, escaped from his crib somehow, and Chase is trying to wrangle him back upstairs.
Normal chaos. Normal family.
