“This one’s from me.”
Wesley accepted the box with a curious expression, weighing it in his hand. “It’s light.”
“Open it.”
He tore into the wrapping paper with enthusiastic abandon—typical Wesley, who approached gift opening like a kid on Christmas morning—and opened the small box inside.
A key rested against the white satin lining. Simple, brass, unremarkable except for what it represented.
Wesley stared at the key, and a funny look crossed his face—something between surprise and amusement, like he was holding back laughter. His mouth twitched, and he pressed his lips together, clearly fighting a smile.
“What is it?” I asked, suddenly nervous. This wasn’t the reaction I’d expected. “I mean, it’s a key. To my apartment. I’m asking if—Wesley, will you move in with me?”
The words came out in a rush, less smooth than I’dpracticed in my head, but honest. “I know it’s only been three months. I know that’s fast. But I don’t want to keep living in separate apartments, spending half our time apart. I want to wake up with you every morning. I want our lives to be… integrated. Together. Officially.”
Wesley burst out laughing—not cruel or mocking, but genuine, delighted laughter that made his whole face light up. He doubled over, the key still in his hand, his shoulders shaking.
“What’s so funny?” I looked at my mother, who was watching with obvious amusement, then back at Wesley. “I just asked you to move in with me. That’s not usually a laughing moment.”
“I’m sorry.” Wesley visibly tried to compose himself, failed, laughed harder. “It’s just—hold on.”
He set down my gift and reached for the pile of presents still under the tree, pulling out a small box wrapped in gold paper with a red ribbon. He handed it to me, still grinning.
“Open it.”
I unwrapped the box with careful precision and opened it to find another key. Brass, simple, resting on white satin.
I stared at it for a beat, processing. Then I started laughing too.
“You were going to ask me to move in with you?” I looked up at Wesley, who was nodding, his grin enormous.
“Great minds think alike.” Wesley leaned into me, his shoulder pressing against mine. “I had this whole speech planned. About how three months is fast, but sometimes you just know. About how I wanted to wake up with you every morning. About how living separately was getting ridiculous when we spend every night together anyway.”
“I had almost the same speech.” I held up his key next to mine. “Though I think my apartment’s bigger.”
“It is bigger,” he said. “And I’m flexible.”
“So, is that a yes?” I needed the confirmation, even though the answer was obvious. “You’ll move in with me?”
“Yes.” Wesley’s gaze softened, the laughter fading into something more tender. “Of course, yes. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. Just didn’t know how to bring it up without seeming too eager.”
“I’ve been thinking about it since Vancouver,” I admitted. “Since the morning I woke up in your hotel room and realized I didn’t want to leave. That I wanted every morning to be that.”
My mother choked on her eggnog.
We kissed—gentle and chaste because Mom was watching from her armchair, but meaningful anyway. A promise, a commitment, the next step in building our life together.
When we pulled apart, my mother was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, her expression radiating happiness.
“I’m so glad you found each other,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Nic would be—” She paused, reconsidered. “I hope Nic would be proud. Of your courage. Of your honesty. Of this.”
She gestured between Wesley and me, encompassing our relationship, our matching keys, our future together.
“I think he would be,” I said, even though I’d never know for sure. “But even if he wouldn’t—I’m proud. And I’m happy. That’s enough.”
Wesley’s hand found mine and our fingers laced together naturally. “It’s more than enough. It’s everything.”
We spent the rest of Christmas evening in seasonal comfort—eating cookies, getting buzzed on eggnog, watching Mom’s favorite Christmas movie. Wesley dozed off against my shoulder halfway through, and I let him sleep, content to just hold him while my mother smiled at us from her chair.
