Page 98 of Holiday Hostilities

That night, I got into bed in an empty house, closed my eyes, and vowed to never celebrate Christmas again. Vowed to never get excited for a holiday that would just let me down, that did nothing but highlight the fact that I didn’t fit in anywhere.

The next morning, I woke up with a clear sense of relief—both because the holiday was over, and because I’d put a wall up to protect myself from ever feeling that way again.

Fourteen years later, Aaron Marino is breaking down those walls, brick by brick.

On Christmas Eve morning, I wake up snuggled into his chest after having the best night’s sleep I can remember. We make a pancake brunch for his mom and Nonna and the four of us go to Lenox Square Mall so Nonna can buy us all matching Christmas pajamas—something she insisted upon. After that, we head to a fresh fish market to load up on seafood for the Seven Fish dinner, which I learned is an Italian-American tradition the Marino family honor every year.

In the evening, we drive around the city and critique the Christmas lights, scoring each display. When we come home, Aaron lights the fire and we gather in the living room wearing our new pajamas to feast on the massive seafood platters that Aaron’s mom, Natalia, prepared for us.

It’s perfectly cozy and lovely, but there’s something deeper than that. A feeling of family. Togetherness.

And I don’t know if it’s Aaron, or this house, or his family’s warmth, or whether I’ve had a total brain transplant, but I feel a part of this togetherness. Like I belong here, in this scene.

I fall asleep on Christmas Eve wrapped once again in Aaron’s arms and feeling totally content. Full of delicious food and great conversation and cozy memories and that sense of warmth andhomethat has always evaded me—especially around the holidays—but is now, unbelievably, more and more present in my life.

And then, on Christmas morning…

“SNOW!”

My eyes flutter open and I groan, confused and disoriented after being unceremoniously yanked from a deep sleep. Butwhen I fully open my eyes and sit up, I’m greeted by the sight of a shirtless Aaron standing at the window, looking like… well, looking like a kid on Christmas morning.

He turns around and gives me a guilty smile. “Oh, would you look at that. You’re awake,” he says lightly, and I throw a pillow at him.

“Thanks to your ten-thousand decibel meteorology report,” I retort, but I’m laughing.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding not the least bit sorry. “But now that you’re awake, come look!”

I roll out of his bed and make my way to the window to see the blanket of white on the ground outside. It’s sparse, but it’s there.

“Woah. It’s weird seeing snow here.” I press my hand against the window. The condensation feels cool against my palm.

“Best.” Aaron stands behind me and gently moves my hair aside so he can kiss my neck. “Day.” He kisses my neck again, and my entire body melts into him. “Ever.” Again, my head is spinning.

“We’ve barely even gotten out of bed,” I say with a laugh, looking back at him.

“I know. And my statement still stands.” He then claims my lips once again. When he pulls back, all too soon, his green eyes are soft. “I love snow. And I love that I get to spend today with you.”

My lips slide into a smile. “Merry Christmas, Aaron.”

“Merry Christmas, Olivia.”

And honestly, I feel it.

Merry, I mean. So much so that I dress in a cute sweater and a short skirt, and I even wear the snowmen earrings Nonna insisted on buying me at the mall yesterday. I braid my hair and apply the smallest amount of makeup, because photos on Christmas Day are a thing, right?

By the time I get downstairs, Aaron’s pouring coffee and has already started prepping for the “huge breakfast feast” he warned me was his family’s staple on Christmas morning. Seriously, I have never seen, nor eaten, so much food in my life. Nonna and Natalia are nowhere to be seen—they must have slept through the early morning snow memo.

As I pad over to Aaron and he hands me my coffee, I notice that he’s wearing his stupid T-rex Santa sweater again.

He’s never looked better.

“Hey, while we’re still alone.” He pauses, looking a little hesitant. “I got you something.”

It’s only then that I notice the gift-wrapped square package on the counter next to him. My eyebrows raise. “You got me a gift?”

“Fair warning, it’s nowhere near as good as your Aaron’s Army sweater.”

“Well, nothing could top that.” I laugh, but I’m touched.

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