Chapter Thirty-Two
Vanessa
Baby Now That I Found You
Ella Bright
Christmas morning feels different this year.
Not because of the snow falling outside Hayden’s apartment windows, though that helps.
And not because of the tree glowing in the middle of his living room, even though I take full credit for dragging light into this beautiful, emotionally repressed penthouse.
It feels different because Hayden looks changed beneath all the white light. He’s quieter. Softer around the edges. Like something inside him was finally freed yesterday, even if the breaking hurt.
He’s sitting on the floor beneath the tree when I walk back from the kitchen with two coffees. He’s wearing dark sweatpants and a long-sleeved black shirt, one knee bent, hair still damp from the shower. Vinny is already inside an empty gift bag. Because of course he is.
“This cat has no survival instincts,” Hayden mutters while watching him try to find his way out of the bag.
“He’s thriving.”
“He’s an idiot.”
“He’s festive.”
Hayden’s mouth curves before his eyes lift to mine. And there it is; that look. The one that makes my chest go all soft and stupid. “Come sit with me.”
I hand him his coffee before lowering myself onto the floor beside him, tucking my legs underneath me while the tree lights flicker over scattered presents and ribbon.
For a few minutes, we don’t say anything. We just sit there together. I know he’s a little bruised from everything cracking open yesterday. But I know he’s not broken. If anything, he’s more whole, more healed now. That feels important.
Hayden reaches for one of the smaller wrapped boxes and sets it in my lap. “Open this first.”
“You’re bossy even on Christmas.”
“I’m consistent.”
I smile despite myself and carefully untie the ribbon. Inside is a velvet jewelry box. I glance at him with one brow raised.
“Open it.”
The necklace inside steals the breath from my lungs. It’s a delicate gold chain with a tiny pendant shaped like a sunflower. My fingers brush over the tiny petals. It’s not some extravagant declaration made to overwhelm me.
It’s a sunflower. My very own Van Gogh. The flowers he bought me. Emily’s favorite flowers. A thread between all the soft and wounded parts of this story we’ve been writing together without realizing it.
“Hayden…” I swallow to try and keep the tears threatening to fall at bay.
His throat works once. “I saw it and thought of you.”
The simplicity nearly undoes me. I look up at him, and swipe away a tear that’s managed to escape. “You always do.”
His expression shifts at that. Like the words land somewhere tender and he still doesn’t know what to do with those feelings.
“Will you put it on me?”
He takes the chain from me, his hands careful, his fingers warm as they brush the back of my neck as he fastens the clasp. When the pendant settles against my chest, his thumb traces it once before his hand falls away.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“So are you.”
I lean in and kiss him before reaching behind me for his gift.“Well,” I profess, clearing the emotion from my throat badly. “Now mine feels a little less glamorous.”
“I doubt that.”
“You haven’t opened it yet.” I shrug.
He takes the small box from me, studying it with suspicion.
“That look is rude.”
“I’ve learned not to trust innocent wrapping.”
“Smart man.”
Hayden begins to unwrap it with cautious precision, because of course he does, folding the paper instead of tearing it unlike the absolute lunatic I am. Then he opens the box, and goes completely still.
The key rests on a small silver keychain shaped like a tiny black bass guitar. For one beautiful, terrifying second, neither of us speaks.
Then Hayden looks up at me slowly. “You made me a key.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling too hard. “It’s to my apartment.”
“Your apartment?” His brow kicks up as his head tilts.
“Yes.” I bite my lip to try and hide how nervous I am.
His expression is impossible to read. It’s too quiet. Then he looks down again, staring at the key like I handed him something sacred instead of access to my building and an apartment ruled by a judgmental cat.
“I know we’re still figuring things out,” I rush out. “And I’m not saying this means anything huge. I just,” My throat tightens. “I just want you to know you’re welcome there. Not because you show up outside. Not because you asked. Because I want you there. Whenever you want to be there.”
Hayden’s eyes close for just a second. Like something hurts, or maybe something healed. Maybe both. When he opens them again, there’s so much emotion in his face it almost scares me.
“Nessa.” And without saying anything else, he reaches under the tree to pull out another small box.
Suspicion pricks through me, my hand rising in an attempt to cover the smile forming on my lips. “No…”
His mouth twitches. “No what?”
“Hayden.”
“Open it.”
“Oh my God.” I shake my head and take the box from him, already fighting a laugh before I even tear the paper open. Inside is a key. On a delicate silver keychain shaped like a crescent moon.
I stare at it. Then at him. Then back at it. For one second, we are both silent. Then I start laughing. And it’s not a polite little laugh. It’s a full, helpless laugh that spills out of me so hard Vinny startles inside the gift bag and launches himself out of the room in a flash of fur.
Hayden watches me with one brow slightly raised, but his mouth is twitching now too.
I stop laughing long enough to speak. “You made me a key?”
“Yes.”
“To your apartment?”
“Yes.”
I press a hand to my chest, and grin. “You want me to live here?”
He nods and shrugs like it’s a foregone conclusion. “Well, yes. And I guess Vinny too, even though he is a menace.”
“He loves you.” I assure him as warmth fills my chest that he’s including Vinny.
“He tolerates me because I feed him salmon and own fluffy blankets.”
I laugh again, and this time Hayden does too. It’s low and real and beautiful. The sound fills the apartment, wrapping around the tree lights and the mess and the snow beyond the windows. And I realize how much this already feels like home.
After a moment, the humor softens into something quieter. Hayden reaches for my hand, the key still resting in my palm. “So, what do you want?”
The question settles between us. The weight of it important. I look down at the two keys resting side by side on the rug. Access. Choice. Trust. Doors opening both ways.
“I know I want a future with you,” I respond honestly.
His thumb brushes once across my knuckles. “I want that too.”
The words come rough. Almost reverent. My chest aches.
“Does that mean living together?” I don’t mistake the hope that surrounds his question.
I glance around the apartment. The tree. The ribbon. Vinny now half-buried under wrapping paper. Hayden sitting beside me looking more exposed than I ever thought I’d see him as he waits for my answer.
“I think it means we’re ready to talk about it.”
A faint smile touches his mouth. “That sounds like a very adult response.”
“I’m very mature.”
“You cried during Elf last night.”
“Buddy just wanted his dad to love him, Hayden.”
“Fair point.”
I smile, but it softens in an instant. “I don’t want us to rush into this because we’re scared of losing each other again.” His expression changes to one of concern. Good. I know he’s listening to what I’m saying. “But I also don’t want us to pretend that isn’t where we’re headed.”
Hayden exhales a slow breath, almost like he’s been holding it for years. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“We talk. We figure it out together.” He reaches over and slides his hand into mine. Together. That word lands warm and steady inside me.
I lean against him, and his arm comes around me, tugging me into the solid warmth of his side. For a while, we just sit there beneath the tree. Two keys. One future. A cat actively murdering ribbon.
Then Hayden speaks quietly. “Can I ask you something?”
Something in his tone makes me lift my head. “Always.”
His gaze stays on the tree for a moment before shifting to mine. “Do you want kids?”
The question sits between us, terrifying and tender all at once. I don’t answer right away. I take a second, not because I don’t know. But because I understand what it costs him to ask.
Yesterday still sits between us. Emily. His father. The grief he carried for most of his life. And now here he is, asking me about a future that would require hope instead of fear.
My eyes sting. “I used to,” I admit. “A long time ago.”
His hand stills against my arm.
“Then after the first time we were together,” I swallow. “I stopped imagining a lot of things.”
Pain moves through his expression. Not defensive. Just understanding.
“But lately,” I continue, voice softening, “I’ve started imagining it again. Imagining that life with you.”
Hayden doesn’t move, his eyes staying locked on me as I continue.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I’d like a family someday.”
The emotion that crosses his face is so raw it nearly breaks me. I brush my fingers along his jaw.
“Not tomorrow though.”
A rough sound escapes him. Almost a laugh. Almost relief. “Good.”
“Probably not before breakfast either.”
“That seems reasonable.”
I smile through the ache in my chest. “Do you want kids?” I ask, because even though I think it’s relief I saw, I need to hear him say it.
Hayden looks at me for a long, quiet second. And when he answers, his voice is low and steady in the most beautiful way. “I’d have a family with you.”
I lean closer, brushing my mouth over his. “Want to practice?”
His hand slides into my hair as he kisses me back, slow and deep and full of everything neither of us has to say out loud anymore. Outside, snow keeps falling. Inside, the tree glows as Hayden lowers me beneath it.
And for the first time in a long time, we don’t feel like something we’re trying to fix. We feel like something we’re building.