Epilogue 2 Holly
Holiday Bonus–One Year Later
“I swear this tree is bigger than the one at Rockefeller Center,” I grumble, arms buried in a tangle of lights and ribbon. “What were we thinking?”
“We were thinking you wanted Christmas to be magical,” Noel calls from behind me. “And I wanted you to have it.”
I spin around—nearly knocking over a box of glass ornaments—and catch my husband leaning against the doorframe in a worn black Henley and flannel pajama pants slung low on his hips.
Christmas magic? Found it.
Right there. In him.
“You’re ridiculous,” I tease.
“And you’re mine,” he says, closing the distance in three steps.
He kisses me like he’s still trying to convince me every day to say yes—like he doesn’t already have a ring on my finger and his name on my heart.
I melt.
Like I always do.
“You remember last year?” I whisper, fingers brushing the short scar near his collarbone—the one he told me about after saving me.
“Yeah,” he says, voice a little rough. “I remember saying I’d never let you go.”
“And I remember saying yes.”
We stand there for a second, the twinkle lights reflecting in his eyes, the scent of pine and gingerbread wrapping around us.
“I got something for you,” he murmurs, reaching into his pocket.
“Noel,” I say, my heart so full already it feels near to bursting.
He pulls out a tiny silver ornament shaped like a bell. It’s engraved with one word.
Ours.
I blink fast. “You’re trying to make me cry.”
“Just trying to remind you,” he murmurs. “No matter what’s out there, this—you and me—it’s forever.”
I loop my arms around his neck.
“So are we skipping dinner and going straight to dessert?”
“I am always hungry for you, Tinsel.”
He lifts me effortlessly, one hand cupping my ass, the other steadying the bell as I hang it on the tree behind him.
Then he carries me upstairs without another word.
Because, yeah, this year?
I already got everything I ever wanted.