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"It's a promise." I waggle my eyebrows. "So, what do you think, Brooke? Do you want to go Christmas shopping with me?"

She stares at me. Once she realizes I’m serious, her shoulders sink. "I'll pick out some stuff."

“Yess!” I subtly punch the air in victory.

As we make our way through the decor aisle, I subtly return some of the decor I picked out in an ‘Oh my God, those kinds of things exist?’ kind of moment. Because, turns out, when you think about a bright pink Christmas tree for longer than three seconds, your taste might change. A shocking revelation, really.

"Look, Brooke." For some reason, it sounds funnier than it should be. "That rhymes. Anyway, they have Christmas-themed dog toys." I lean down and pick up a squeaking Christmas tree. "You're so coming home with me." I throw it over my shoulder, hoping I hit my cart.

Judging by the ever-so-soft sound of fabric hitting the ground, I assume I haven't.

"I think Sophia would have more fun with a squeaking elf toy." She reaches past me, so close her breath feathers over my cheek, and I smell her vanilla-cinnamon shampoo. "She's got a vicious streak like that."

"I knew it." I clear my throat. "It's always the derpy creatures who have the darkest thoughts.” I get back up and grab something random off the shelf, trying to will my heart to calm the hell down. “How about… Christmas-tree-decorations-shaped treats?"

"Huh." She turns the pack around to check out the nutrients. “Why not? God knows Rose will eat anything."

"Speaking of anything, I need a new Christmas tree topper. Dick destroyed mine last year." I get back up and suddenly, she’s incredibly close again. My heart thunders in my ears, heat creeps into my cheeks.

It must be close to a decade since I last allowed myself to be in love. Ever since Remi and I called it quits.

How could I forget how terrifying it is?

"I don't even have a Christmas tree to decorate," she admits. A mistake she realizes once she notices the gleeful twinkle in my eyes. "Don't you dare try to donate a Christmas tree to the shelter. I will actually be mad. I’d rather take a donation to get them food."

I let out a deep sigh, lips pursing in a pout. "Okay. For now. I disapprove."

"Disapprove all you want." She shakes her head and pulls her cart further ahead. "What is it about Christmas, Kieran? I didn’t peg you for a holiday fan."

For a moment, I consider telling her the truth. That going all out on Christmas is me clinging to traditions my family, and I used to have when I was a child. It's me clinging to the past, when my parents still loved me and I had a loving family, me doing things that bring me joy to push the sadness out of my periphery. Nothing against Nic and Lauren and everyone in Wayward Hollow, but it's different to celebrate with them.

Especially around Christmas, it really fucking hurts.

Going all out and doing things that bring me joy is the only way I've found so far to offset the negatives I associate with the season and family time.

"It's complicated," I find myself saying instead. "Celebrating Christmas helps me connect with and work through my past." There. That's not a lie. But it's also not too many details. She can fill in the blanks. Maybe. "Why do you not like it?"

"I wouldn't say ‘not like it.’" She scrunches her nose, similarly to Daisys when she gnaws on a salad leaf. "More… indifferent. Because I have bigger worries right now than getting Christmas presents for my family." She motions to my cart. " Or putting up decor I will take down again in less than a month."

"But it will bring you joy for that month," I point out stubbornly.

"Guess I can't argue with that." She rustles in her pockets. "Do you want a piece of chocolate?" Wordlessly, I hold my hand out, palm up, until she places a piece of chocolate in it.

"Why do you have chocolate with you?"

"It’s a guilty pleasure." She puts it back into her back pocket. “Sue me.”

"Oh my God, they have dog outfits." I stop at once, my lips curling into a smirk, and I crack my knuckles. "Your dogs can be glad they don't fit into any of those." I love the ladies. I truly do.

But Rose? She's a damn bear. Way too big for any of these. These costumes are geared towards chihuahuas and other dogs around their size. Maybe corgis. They’re definitely not made for German Shepherds.

"I mean, those could work." Brooke picks up a headband with a Santa hat glued to its top. "Maybe if I take some pictures of them wearing costumes, they’ll gather some attention and get adopted."

"Do you truly hope that?" I tilt my head.

"Yes. No." Brooke deflates and slowly turns the headband around. "I don't know. They've all been through so much. I'm scared to hand them over to the wrong people. What if they seem lovely, but ultimately, they want to sacrifice black cats too? Or adopt dogs as Christmas presents and bring them back once they realize the care that goes into owning one, especially a traumatized one who will take some time to get used to them."

She puts the headband back and keeps walking. Once she turns her back to them, I throw four into my cart. Then three smaller ones for the cats.