“Dude, you’re in so much trouble,” Harry mutters.
Dinner continues with jubilance and excited chatter before we’re all too stuffed to keep sitting next to all the uneaten food. The boys all tidy up while I usher the others into the lounge and Nel helps me fulfil everyone’s drinks orders. While we’re in the garage, I give her the biggest hug.
“I’m so excited you’re going to be living so close.”
“Me too.” She squeezes me back. “I was always happy living in London and having a separate life from my family, but when Mum and Dad died, then Harry and I actually started talking to each other, I craved being closer. It’s been nice living with Jake these last few months but we’re both so looking forward to making a home together and being close to people who love us.”
I smile at my sweet sister-in-law. “And we do love you, you know?”
“I do.” She beams.
“And we were just joking about the babysitting,” I reassure her.
She lets out a little snort. “No, you weren’t.”
It’s a squeeze to get us all in the lounge but it’s time for family presents and all I can see are heads bobbing above a sea of discarded wrapping paper. My kids have been so thoroughly spoilt that I’m going to have to put in a little work to keep them humble.
Jake gives Nel a snow globe, just like he had last year, and she smiles sweetly at him with a small blush.
Harry bought me a gorgeous pair of amethyst earrings and I gave him the painting of a grey skied cliff edge dropping to stormy seas that he’d loved when we visited Cornwall last summer. He’d looked at me wide eyed as he read the label.
“Another gift?” he whispered to me but not quiet enough as my mother perked up.
“What else did you get, Harry?”
“Nothing,” he answered too quickly, making me roll my eyes at him.
Another gift box is passed my way, and the label is written in Harry’s surprisingly neat cursive.
I saw these and thought of you.
Purple always makes me think of you.
Love you forever, Angel.
Merry Christmas.
I pull at the ribbon and open the box, moving tissue paper aside to see a pair of beautiful, supple leather, purple gloves. They make me smile. Not quite the elbow length silk gloves he first noticed but enough of an homage to make my cheeks heat at the memory of our first Christmas.
“They’re beautiful, Harry.”
“Purple has always been my favourite colour on you,” he says softly and once again, we’re the only people in the world, his beautiful emerald eyes burning heat into my soul.
I love you.
I love you, Angel.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“That was awkward for everyone involved, dude.”
HARRY
Everyone pitches in to help clear up the colossal mess left by the gift exchange and then the kids are hounding us to play game after game after game. I can’t complain, it’s good fun and after everyone—except those underage and poor Rhiannon—has had a few drinks, it does become a bit raucous but ridiculously fun. My father-in-law and his brother are crazy competitive with each other and insist on being team captains for every game, building rivalry between teams and getting the kids involved in some trash talk that sounds like it’s come directly out of a bad gangster movie.
I watch my wife across the room, sat between her mother and cousin, the three of them having quiet chats between the name calling and questionable hand gestures. Sometimes I feel I want to capture her like this. Completely relaxed now that all the food has been eaten and cleared away—except for the party food she insists we buy to have later at night if anyone’s hungry, but no one ever is. She smiles widely at everyone, that beautiful smile that brightens every room she enters, and she kisses Mary’s head every so often as if on instinct. Bright blue eyes catch me looking at her and her smile turns soft, secretive, just for me. I love this woman with all of my heart and in this moment, surrounded by everyone we love, playing games and enjoying each other’s company, having had three drinks more than I normally would, I’m feeling so thankful.
“Right,” Lisa declares loudly over the sound of her dad and uncle arguing over who won the last round. “That’s it, bedtime.”
