“You’ll see,” I say, grinning like an idiot.
Troy groans. “If it’s another half-assed attempt at cookies, we’re all doomed.”
“It’s not cookies, jackass. Just wait.”
That night, we light candles around the living room. Jared gets Savannah settled in the middle of the couch, Noah snuggled up against her chest.
I walk over with a small box in my hand. My heart’s pounding harder than it should, but I keep it cool.
“What’s that?” she asks, her voice soft.
“Open it.”
She hesitates, glancing at the guys like she’s waiting for a punchline.
“No tricks,” I say, crouching in front of her. “Just...open it.”
She lifts the lid and her lips part. Inside is a delicate necklace, three tiny pendants hanging from the chain—a star, a heart, and a moon.
“They’re for the babies,” I say quickly, scratching the back of my neck. “You know, a symbol or whatever. Jared said it was cheesy, but Troy thought it was sweet.”
“Hey, don’t drag me into this,” Troy mutters.
Savannah’s eyes well up, and she touches the necklace like it’s made of gold. “Jamie...”
“If you don’t like it, we can exchange it. Get something better…”
“I love it,” she cuts me off, her voice thick with emotions.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The room goes quiet, except for the crackling fire. Jared clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the mushy moment.
“Well,” Troy says, clapping his hands, “who’s ready for presents?”
Later that night, after the gifts are opened and the cookies are eaten, I sit with Savannah by the fire.
“Y’know,” I say, “I don’t do this kinda thing often.”
“What thing?” she asks, leaning her head on my shoulder.
“Family stuff. Christmas, decorations, all that crap.”
She tilts her head to look at me. “You’re pretty good at it.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
She laughs softly, and I feel like I could live in this moment forever.
But then she tenses.
“Sav?”
She grips my hand. “Jamie...something’s happening.”
“What do you mean?”