Page 34 of Daddy Christmas

It was . .. an igloo?

But not like any igloo I’d ever seen before. Set on the top of a snow covered hill, the strange structure shimmered in the dim light, the walls catching and bending every color around us. It was like looking at a prism, or maybe a diamond. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until Nicholas spoke.

"Do you like it?"

"Like it?" I breathed, turning to him. "It’s . . . incredible."

"Wait until you see inside," he said, opening the door and gesturing for me to enter.

The warmth hit me first, cozy and inviting. Soft furs lined the floor, piled high with cushions that begged to be sunk into. Lanterns floated in midair, their light soft and golden, casting gentle shadows on the crystalline walls.

"Wow," I whispered, stepping further inside. My fingers brushed over one of the furs, the softness sending a shiver up my spine. "This is amazing.”

"Good," Nicholas said, his voice low as he followed me in. "I like surprising you."

Nicholas settled onto the cushions, his movements smooth and deliberate. He patted the spot beside him without a word, his green eyes steady on mine. I hesitated, my breath catching in my chest. The air inside the igloo was warm, but my cheeks burned hotter as I sat down, careful to keep some space between us.

"Look up," he said softly.

I tilted my head back, following his gaze. My lips parted. The ceiling wasn’t just clear—it was like looking straight into theuniverse. Stars stretched endlessly above us, sharp and bright against the black sky. And then they came.

The first ribbon of light unfurled slowly, almost shy, before another followed, bold and vibrant. Greens, purples, pinks—they twisted and swirled, painting the sky in waves that moved like they were alive. My chest tightened, the kind of tightness that felt good, full. Whole.

"That’s . . ." I started, but my voice cracked. I pressed my lips together, swallowing hard. "It’s—"

"The Northern lights," Nicholas finished for me. His voice was low, close enough that I could feel the weight of it settle over me.

"Yeah," I whispered. My fingers twisted in the fur beneath me, grounding myself as I stared up, unable to look away. It didn’t feel real. None of this did. But it also didn’t feel fake.

"Magic feels different when you can see it," he said. His tone was soft, measured, like he was afraid to break whatever spell we were under. "When you can touch it."

I glanced at him then, caught off guard by how intently he was watching me. Not the lights. Me. My throat went dry, and I looked back up quickly, my heart thudding harder than it should’ve been.

"Do you believe me now?" he asked, his hand brushing against mine where it rested on the cushion.

I froze. The warmth of his skin sent a jolt through me, and I wasn’t sure if it was the proximity or the question itself that felt heavier. Maybe both.

I shifted on the cushion, my palms pressing into the fur as I turned to face him. My chest felt tight, like I’d been holding my breath this whole time without realizing it. His hand was still close to mine. The heat from his skin made my fingers itch to move, to close that tiny gap between us. But I didn’t. Not yet.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” I said, my voice quieter than I meant for it to be. I cleared my throat and tried again, meetinghis eyes this time. “Everything I’ve seen tonight… it’s beyond anything I imagined could be real.”

His gaze held steady, calm but intense, like he wasn’t just looking at me—he wasseeingme. It made me feel exposed in a way that was both terrifying and comforting. My stomach twisted, but I pushed through it, letting the words tumble out before I lost my nerve.

“Yes,” I said, barely above a whisper. Then louder, firmer: “Yes, I believe you. You’re Santa Claus.”

The moment the words left my mouth, a strange sort of weight lifted off me, replaced by something I couldn’t quite name. Relief? Maybe. Or maybe it was just the sheer absurdity of saying it out loud, of admitting that this man—this man, aDaddy Dom, no less—was exactly who he claimed to be. It sounded insane, but somehow, it felt right.

Nicholas smiled, and it wasn’t the kind of smile you give someone when they’ve finally caught up to what you already knew. It was warm and earnest, like he’d been waiting for this moment as much as I had. Like it mattered to him.

"Thank you for trusting me," he said, his voice soft but sure. He reached for my hand then, and this time, I let him take it. His palm was rougher than I expected, his fingers warm as they closed around mine. My pulse jumped, and I hoped he couldn’t feel it.

“I’ve been searching,” he continued, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand. “For someone to share this with. Not just the magic, but everything that comes with it—the responsibility, the joy, the challenges.” He paused, his green eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my head spin. “You have a pure heart, Gemma. Your capacity for wonder, your resilience—it’s why you’re here. It’s why you’re perfect.”

Perfect. The word hit me harder than it should have, curling around something deep inside me that I usually kept lockedaway. I wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that I wasn’t any of those things. But the way he looked at me… I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Instead, I sat there, my heart pounding in my ears, wondering how in the world I was supposed to live up to the faith he seemed so willing to place in me.

I blinked up at him, my chest tight and aching in a way I couldn’t fully explain. The warmth of his hand still lingered on mine, like it had left a mark beneath my skin. My fingers curled slightly, as if trying to hold onto it. The words he’d said swirled in my head, heavy and impossibly light all at once. Perfect partner. Pure heart.

I wasn’t perfect—far from it. But for the first time, maybe ever, I didn’t feel the need to argue. Not with him looking at me like that, his gaze steady and unshakable, like he knew. Knew what I was capable of, even when I didn’t.

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