A niggle of doubt works inside my heart. What if this was too much?
Vinceseemedhappy tonight, but what if it pushed him beyond what he could handle? I think back, to the way he leaned into conversations instead of hanging back, the way he smiled—really smiled—when Ryan’s mom kept piling food on his plate like she was afraid he might disappear if she didn’t, all the little things that for him were probably big things.
Shit. I’d caught Vince stretching his fingers under the table more than once, or rolling his shoulders when he thought no one was looking. But still—hedidseem to enjoy himself too. So maybe I’m just overthinking.
I keep the drive smooth on the way home, being careful not to jostle him. The dashboard lights glow a soft amber, the world quiet and forgiving as it passes. Every time we roll to a stop, I look over at him and my heart flutters again. Vince is so damn peaceful when he sleeps. Like nothing can get to him—not even his own pain.
He stirs awake when I finally pull into the driveway, blinking hard and rubbing his face like he’s embarrassed to have fallen asleep. He looks around, disoriented for half a second, then groans softly.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, reaching for the food tote at his feet. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Are you kidding?” I cut in. “I’m exhausted too.”
It’s not a lie. I could fall asleep right here. Besides, I don’t want him to feel bad for needing rest. Not tonight, not ever.
Bones hears us the second the door opens, barking once before rushing toward us like we’ve been gone for weeks instead of a few hours. Vince crouches automatically, rubbing behind his ears.
Walking to the kitchen, I slip the leftovers into the fridge. Sarah sent me home with too many containers, as usual. It takes up nearly two full shelves. But I’m grateful for it. I hate cooking on Christmas when my house is empty.
Except this year, it isn’t.
The reminder hits me all over again.
I won’t be alone tomorrow.
A smile creeps over my face without warning.
“Would you like some wine?” I ask, already reaching for the bottle.
Vince tugs at his shirt, expression guarded. “Probably shouldn’t. I need some meds first.”
He walks past me toward the back door.
“Vince, wait.”
He pauses with his hand on the door. He knows I have pain meds in my bathroom, so why is he in a hurry to leave?
I go to him, sliding an arm around his waist. “Stay with me tonight?”
I can’t hide the unease in my voice. But I didn’t think I’d need to ask. It’s Christmas Eve. Doesn’t hewantto be with me?
Vince kisses me softly. “I’m just going to get you something.”
My breath catches. “You got me a gift?”
He laughs. “Of course. Wait here.”
I got him something too. A couple somethings, actually.
Vince returns with three packages—each of them unwrapped, but I don’t care. I’m surprised he’d gotten me anything at all.
“Well, now I need to give you yours.”
We sit by the tree and exchange gifts. He got me a new electric coffee mug to keep my drinks warm, a new tool belt, and a book by one of my favorite authors. I got him a blanket and a guitar strap to replace his worn one.
He runs his hand over the smooth fabric of the blanket. “This is nice.”
“It’s supposed to help cool you down. I thought it might help with the night sweats.”
