Page 28 of Wynter's Second Chance

Wynter’s shoulder brushed against mine as he adjusted a strand. “You know,” he said, his voice soft, “I was just thinking how long we’ve known each other. Feels like lifetimes, doesn’t it?”

A familiar pang rose in my chest. “Sometimes like lifetimes. And sometimes like we met just yesterday.” I paused, memories flashing back to those years in high school when we’d just met, and then to several years later after the accident when my world had turned upside down. “I was barely holding it together then, Wyn. Losing my parents, my sister... Those days, I was barely getting out of bed, barely eating.”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “I remember. That’s why I pushed you to volunteer at the community center. I thought… maybe if you could give a piece of yourself, you’d find some of yourself again.”

I managed a small smile, glancing over at Rory, who was intensely focused on untangling some tinsel. “You were right. If it wasn’t for you, I’d never have met that little guy over there.” My voice softened as I watched him. “He was so quiet, so lost. Something in him just… called to me.”

Wynter’s eyes held mine, a warm look that seemed to reach right through me. “I knew you’d be perfect for him. You and Royce both. Remember how unsure you were about fostering and then adopting him?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “That’s putting it lightly. I was scared out of my mind. Two gay guys, raising an African American boy? I wasn’t sure we’d even get approved, let alone if we’d be the right fit. But you—you told me to go for it. And, somehow, we did.”

Wynter’s hand brushed mine briefly as he looped another light on a branch. “You two were exactly what he needed. You still are.”

A warmth I hadn’t expected flooded through me, and for a moment, we just looked at each other. Rory’s delighted exclamation of, “Dad, look! It’s perfect!” brought us back to the moment, and Wynter chuckled as Rory hurried over to show off a garland he’d wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf.

As Rory went back to his task, Wynter’s expression softened. “I should have been there more for Royce. Being overseas when it happened… it tore me up inside. I kept thinking, if I’d been there, maybe I would’ve noticed something. Maybe I’d have seen what?—”

“Hey.” I cut him off gently. “You think I don’t feel that too?” I put a hand on his arm, gave a gentle squeeze. “I lived with him, Wyn. And I didn’t see it.” My voice softened. “Grief and guilt… they’re brutal companions.”

Wynter looked down, his jaw tight, then met my gaze with something unguarded. “You’ve always been a bright spot for me, Taran. Even when I couldn’t be there, I thought of you. Of how much you meant to me.” He seemed to be searching for the right words. His gaze held mine. “Even back when we were kids. There was this… shift.”

I looked at him, questions building up, but he went on before I could speak.

“I was fourteen when I started realizing that it wasn’t just girls who caught my attention. Then by eighteen… I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t ignore… you.” He glanced away, almost embarrassed. “But it was easier to bury it back then. Especially when Royce came out to me. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, not when he was finally taking that step.”

His words hit deep, revealing a part of our past I’d never known. He looked up at me, his gaze raw. “Seeing you again like this… it brings back everything I tried to push down.”

Rory bounded over, pulling us both toward the tree. “Come on, help me put these ornaments higher up!”

We both moved closer, hanging ornaments in the spots Rory pointed to, and Wynter leaned toward me, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe we’ve been given a second chance. If… if you want it.”

My heart thudded, and I looked into his eyes, feeling the weight of all those years. “Maybe we have,” I murmured, smiling as Rory clapped his hands in approval at his handiwork.

The tree glowed, casting a warm light over us all, and in that moment, it felt like coming home.

“Dad, look!” Rory held up a miniature snow globe with glitter swirling inside. “Remember this?”

I reached out, taking it from him and feeling a pang in my chest. “Of course, I do, kiddo. Papa picked this one at the last parade we all went to together,” I said softly, more to myself than anyone else.

Rory’s eyes glistened. “Can we put it front and center?”

“Of course.” I nodded, watching him as he hung it carefully, my chest tight with pride and nostalgia. This Christmas was shaping up to be the best he’d had since we lost Royce, and I wondered if it had anything to do with the veteran standing beside us—the gentle presence who seemed to ground us.

Rory held up an old, lopsided star ornament, grinning like he’d just unearthed a treasure. "This one goes on top, right?"

"Absolutely," I said, smiling. "It wouldn’t be Christmas without that star."

I nudged Wynter, and together, we watched as Rory stretched to place it at the very top. With a bit of a reach and a little boost from me, he carefully balanced the star until it satproudly in place. We all stepped back to admire it, the room filling with that warm glow that only a Christmas tree brings.

Rory stepped back, admiring the tree one last time, before his eyes lit up with excitement. “Can I head upstairs, Dad? Matthew and Kenzie are waiting to play.” He held up his phone to show me the game invite from his friends.

I chuckled. “You’re all done here, huh?”

“Yep! It’s perfect!” Rory shot a quick look at the tree before heading for the stairs, his voice already filling with enthusiasm as he messaged his friends. A moment later, we heard his laughter drift down from his room as he joined his friends in the virtual world, each of them their own character in a game they’d most likely play long into the evening.

I glanced over at Wynter, who was watching me with an attentive gaze that felt... safe, somehow. His eyes fell on an ornament, and he picked it up gently—a delicate glass one with a swirl of color at its center. I could see the unspoken question in his eyes.

“Royce bought that our first Christmas as a family of three.”

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