"Now," Mama Paws says, once the noise dies down slightly, "enough crying. Let's celebrate!"
Music starts playing from speakers, and just like that, the party kicks into full gear.
Kids are playing with puppies, giggling as they get covered in kisses. Adults are chatting, exchanging stories, bonding over their love of animals. The team has scatteredthroughout the space, each member surrounded by fans or adopters or both.
This is it. This is what we fought for.
Around 11 PM, the party's still going strong, but the energy has mellowed into something warm and comfortable. Kids are starting to get sleepy, curled up in corners with puppies. Adults are talking in smaller groups, voices low and content.
Ace tugs on my hand. "Come on. Let's get some air."
We slip outside, Candy between us, and the cold hits like a slap, but it's not unpleasant. Refreshing, actually, after the warmth and press of bodies inside.
We end up on the front steps, sitting side by side, Candy settled between our legs. The Chicago skyline glitters in the distance, lights twinkling like grounded stars, and snow is falling gently, fat flakes drifting down in lazy spirals.
It's one of those perfect moments that feels almost scripted, like someone designed it specifically to be memorable.
"Hey," I say, breaking the comfortable silence. "Remember when we met?"
Ace turns to look at me, eyebrow raised. "You mean when you landed on top of me during a domino-effect catastrophe?"
"That's the one." I'm grinning. "Did you ever think back then we'd end up here?"
Ace gives me one of those looks that signals he doesn't think I'm a fully serious person. "You mean, back when I thought I was straight? Can't say that I did, no."
I laugh. "Fair. And now?"
He reaches over, takes my hand, threads our fingers together. "Now I can't imagine not being with you. Now this is the only thing that makes sense."
Something in my chest expands, warm and bright and almost painful. "Smooth."
I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder, and we sit there watching the snow fall.
"I moved in all my stuff today," I say. "While you were at practice."
"I know. I saw." His voice is amused. "You have a concerning number of graphic t-shirts."
I lift my head to look at him. "They're conversation starters!"
"They're atrocities."
"You love them."
"I loveyou," he corrects. "The shirts I tolerate."
I laugh, loud and genuine, and settle back against his shoulder. "This is the first New Year's Eve I haven't spent trying to hook up with a stranger."
"How's it feel?"
I take a moment to consider the question. How does it feel? To be here, with Ace, with Candy, with a home waiting for us and a future that's no longer terrifying? "Epic," I finally say.
From inside the shelter, voices start counting down.
"Ten! Nine! Eight!"
We stand, Candy immediately perking up at the change in energy, her ears swiveling toward the sound.
"Seven! Six! Five!"
