Page 96 of Breaking Free

“Makes sense.”

“It’ll probably take a little bit. She’ll need to sell the house and hopefully get some money out of it, but with her new job, she’s making enough to be able to get a small place.”

He nods and then the waiter drops our food off. After we eat and talk about how good everything is, we decide to pass on dessert.

“Back home?” he asks, biting his lip briefly.

“Not yet,” I say with a laugh, holding his hand as we walk back outside.

Instead of heading back to the car, I go in the opposite direction, and we stroll hand-in-hand on the sidewalk, looking at all the window displays and eventually come to the winter garden area.

The trees are completely covered in different lights, and pathways are marked with ground lights, guiding you as you enjoy all the Christmas pop-ups. There’s snowmen, reindeer, and little cottages where you can stop for hot cocoa or cider. Kids gather around one house where Santa and Mrs. Clause are, taking pictures.

“I love this,” he says, squeezing my hand. “Guess I’m still a kid at heart.”

“Who doesn’t enjoy Christmas lights?”

We get to a part where there’s a few benches surrounding an outdoor heater, so I sit him down next to me and shift to face him.

“Thank you for this,” he says before I can say anything. “Thank you for everything.” He looks at me then, his eyes studying my face.

“You don’t have to thank me. I want you to be happy.”

“Well, I am. With you, I always am.”

I hold his chin between my thumb and forefinger and give him a kiss. “I think you make me a better person.”

When a few snowflakes begin to fall, I decide this is a better time than any. I open my mouth to say the three words I’ve been dying to say for a little while now.

“I love you.”

I blink at him, my lips parted, because he said it at the same time I did.

We both chuckle a little. “What did you say?” I ask.

“I love you.”

“No, I loveyou.”

He laughs. “We love each other.”

I grab his face and kiss him. When I pull away, I hold his hand and put it on my thigh.

“God, I’ve been holding it in. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“I thought it was just me,” he says, exhaling loudly. We study each other, our matching wide smiles plastered on our faces. “You love me.”

“I do, and I love that you love me, too.”

“Can I show you how much?” he asks, spreading his fingers across my thigh.

“Oh, baby. You can spend all night showing me how much, and I’ll spend as long as you’ll let me, proving that I do.”

“Oh God. Let’s go home. Santa and these kids don’t need to see all the things I want to do to you right now.”

Trevor

Epilogue

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