Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
“I’m good, Starlight,” he says with a grin, that dimple peeking out. “I was just thinking again of how much I want Emmy to have this when she’s older. A group of friends who are close like this.”
I clear my throat of sudden emotion as I look about the room.
The people gathered here are some of the most important people in my life, and I love each of their quirks and idiosyncrasies.
Graham and Lily are at war as she tries to peel off the tape to take a peek at the gift in front of her.
Gently, Graham brushes her hand away. Sparrow looks at Rafe instead of the gift in her hand as he speaks rapid French with a smile, his hands waving about.
Grey and Boston are huddled with their heads close together, whispering about something that has made her laugh.
There’s so much love in the room, and with Jace beside me, I realize that this is what life is about. Having people nearby who support you and love you but who are also allowed to be themselves, move through their fears, and choose love.
“Yeah, she would be one lucky girl if that were the case.” I push off the couch slightly to press a kiss on his cheek where his dimple likes to hide.
His skin is smooth against my lips. I shift to press my forehead into his neck.
And then we’re nuzzling, and it’s the holidays, and we’re spending the evening together, and it’s glorious.
“Allez!” Rafe’s voice nearly sings. “Let’s get the Santa’s secret—”
“Secret Santa,” Sparrow whispers.
“Quoi?”
“It’s secret Santa, not Santa’s secret.”
“Why would it—I don’t understand this phrase,” he says with obvious confusion but then moves on. “Okay, we’ll accept it. Let’s get this ‘secret Santa’ gift exchange going. We’ll start with Ivy.”
I lean back in surprise and accept the gift box handed to me.
“C’est parti!” Rafe yells with a whoop, and then we begin our gift-giving tradition.
Christmas music plays on a record player in the corner.
Cradling the gift on my lap, I take a minute to glance around the welcoming space again, realizing that this is only the second year the other couples are married (the Durands and the Winnings).
Lily and Graham have done so much to this place.
They’ve restored the old house into a cozy nook that makes you want to stay awhile and raise a family.
At the thought of Jace and me having a family one day, potentially giving Emmy a sibling, my heart lifts.
“Well, open it!” Lily interrupts my daydream with a yell, and I focus on the gift in front of me.
Tearing open the paper, I find a snow globe with a scene from The Nutcracker, a tiny Clara dancing with the nutcracker doll in front of the Christmas tree.
Behind her is a tiny mockup of a house, with a night sky and speckled stars visible through the window.
Sharply, I inhale and feel Jace stiffen next to me. With a glance at him, I turn the snow globe over to find a handwritten message on the bottom, which reads: Starlight, our magic will never run out. I loved you then. I love you now. I’ll love you for all time.
And loosely taped to the wind-up mechanism is the piece of ribbon that used to be mine. My lucky charm has returned. My eyes are cloudy through my tears, and I let them fall.
“Don’t lose that now,” Jace whispers. “I hear it’s good luck.”
Without releasing the snow globe, I wrap my arm as far around his shoulders as possible and pull him to me, kissing him with all the emotion I can muster.
Our love story may have unfolded quickly, but it’s also unfolded over a lifetime.
Gently, his mouth moves over mine, and I can’t bring myself to care about the six pairs of eyes probably watching us, my sense of perfectionism taking a back seat to my love.
Because love may be messy at times, but it’s also the most freeing feeling I’ve ever known.
His kiss tells me of the way he wants to hold me.
It reassures me that he’s always going to protect me.
And it’s a promise that he’ll never let me doubt his love.
Another whoop from Rafe breaks us apart. I laugh, trying to hold it together. Yes, I just kissed my handsome hunk of a man, whose heart I want to deeply shelter—even in front of my friends—and I love it.
“I won’t apologize,” snarks Jace, now wearing a hint of my lipstick on his upper lip.
“Clearly, Jace pulled Ivy’s name. Hmm, I wonder how that happened . . .” Lily tries to move to the edge of her seat to reach for another gift but loses her balance and falls back with an exhale. “C’mon, Cruffin! It’s gift time!”
Collectively, a laugh echoes around the room.
“Graham, does it bother you that your wife refers to your unborn child as a baked good?” Grey asks with a smile.
“I’m just glad she’s carrying my child.” It’s the most Graham thing to say, and that’s why we love him.
Boston clears his throat and reaches for a gift, reading the tag and passing it to Sparrow. That’s when the real fun begins.
Tonight, it turns out, the rest of the gifts are somewhat hilarious and scarily specific items that we all picked for each other.
Sparrow receives an oversized sweater with a whimsical croissant pattern from Grey (it’s adorable, and I love it).
Rafe is pleasantly overwhelmed by a journal and a bag of guitar picks with French sayings on them from Lily, which is great, considering Sparrow still hides them from him as a nod to a game she started when they were fake dating.
Written on the journal cover are the words The only pain I want while writing music is a pain au chocolat, which feels perfectly appropriate, considering the giver.
Grey receives a personalized library set from Graham.
Lily is given an actual, miniature vending machine that dispenses wrapped chocolates from Rafe.
Graham holds a leather-bound edition of Pride and Prejudice from Boston (he has access to rare books and clearly takes advantage of it).
Jace is gifted a new sweatshirt with the Wicked Good Farms branding from Sparrow, which I know I’ll eventually steal.
Finally, Boston is given a laptop cover that looks like an old paper checkout card from the library, the gift chosen by me.
With wrapping paper thrown about the living room and our hearts full, we chat for a few minutes. Then Lily yells, “Let’s eat!” while popping another chocolate in her mouth. The woman’s ability to consume chocolate is untouchable.
Collectively, we rise and fill our plates with delicious holiday food and desserts.
Soon, we’re settling back in the living room in the casual and comfortable way that feels like a holiday with friends.
Over the years, we’ve long abandoned the idea of trying to sit at the dining room table, which is still covered in enough dessert to feed the entire town at Sparrow’s Beret tomorrow.
We settle into our respective places, White Christmas playing on the TV in the background, and I’m laughing so much my stomach hurts.
The night is beautiful, full of everything I love about the holiday season.
I’m with people I love, everything has a special glow to it, and our New England snow is the perfect excuse to curl up with a blanket.
It’s only later, when we’re walking home, my hand in Jace’s as he walks me back to my apartment, that I feel the truth of who we are together sinking in.
Jace is my person. And I’m his. I don’t know how life works—if we missed our original connection or if it has all gone exactly according to plan—but I know now we were always meant to be something special to each other.
“Jace,” I say when we cross the bridge, the lights and garland wrapped around the antique streetlights casting a warm glow on the edges of his hair, which is flipped in all directions. He turns toward me.
“Starlight.” His voice is gritty and low in the cold, the timbre of it like a drink being poured over ice.
I let the nickname carry me home, the assurance of his presence enough to calm any fear.
When we stand outside my apartment door, he lingers, and I bring him inside to make some candy cane tea.
We haven’t spoken a word since we entered my home, and I find that we don’t need to.
It’s a comfortable silence, the kind that can take years to cultivate, but when you find it, you sense its presence.
Instead, we fall into a rhythm, boiling water, getting mugs, preparing the tea bags, adding some honey, and soon the vanilla-scented candy cane fragrance rises around us from the counter, the delicate scent steaming between us.
As the tea brews, I stare up at him, my chin tilted at the angle that’s just perfectly keyed to be able to study every detail of his face.
During my life, movements have often been associated with ballet positions, but the feeling of standing close to him and lifting my face toward his just so will always be associated with only Jace.
“Your message on the snow globe . . .” I break the silence but let the words trail off.
He inhales, and the sound catches. I only register the swish of the bag holding our gifts before I’m wrapped in his arms, his cold nose buried in my neck, but the warmth of him makes up for the chill.
“I love you so much,” he confesses, outlining a constellation of kisses from my jaw to my cheekbone and then repeating it on the other side.
He’s mapping the night sky with his love.
“It’s always been you, Starlight.” Jace’s large hands frame my face, his palms moving from my cheeks to my neck and back again.
I lean back to study his face. His eyes are glistening, and his heart is open. The vulnerability in his gaze undoes me. He’s no longer the alternate version of the man I met once on a night long ago. He’s back. I pull him closer, my arms wrapping around his neck, my lips near the shell of his ear.
“And I already love Emmy, Jace . . . deeply.” My breath hitches. “I can’t wait to watch her grow up.” I choke the last words out with a smile, my emotions surging at the thought of the precious little girl who will be a permanent part of my life.
His shoulders relax. He lets out a soft sound, nuzzling back into my neck. Tears stream down my face, his hair brushing my skin as his shoulders shake silently.
“You’ve done a good job with her, Jace. She’s okay.
” My hands play with the ends of his hair, my fingers caressing the nape of his neck.
And then in a quick motion, I’m lifted into his arms and carried to the couch, where he sits with me on his lap, my chest turned into him. Emotion still plays across his face.
“I’m here now, Jace. Wrap your arms around me. I’m here.”
He holds me, my hands tucked with one placed over his heart, the sound of our breathing and the feeling of his heartbeat the only measure of passing time. At some point, I feel his warm tears against the side of my neck and patiently wait until his breathing evens out.
Eventually, he leans back and lifts my chin, the amber eyes I love so much staring back at me with a level of clarity that I haven’t seen from them since he returned.
“Thank you, Ivy,” he murmurs.
“For what, love?”
“For being you.” Before we can get emotional again, Jace continues with a smirk, “Speaking of honey, I think our tea is cold . . .” he trails off, a brow lifting toward the kitchen. His eyes are still reddened and his cheeks a bit swollen, but he looks at peace.
I realize I couldn’t love this man any more than I do now. And yet, somehow, I know I will. “We’ll reheat it. We’ve got time.”
Jace’s handsome face turns to mine once more. “Yeah, we do. We’ve got time, Starlight.”