Page 18 of The White Chocolate Christmas Wish

“Thank you,” she murmured, tears glistening in her eyes. “I never thought I’d see this again.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on all of us. It was as if my grandfather’s spirit filled the space, bridging the years between us.

Colton, ever the master of charm, cleared his throat. “So, Mildred,” he began, his tone playful, “did your time with Hope’s grandpa ever involve carols? Because I’ve been warned that I wouldn’t wanna hear Hope sing.”

I grinned. “I stand by that warnin’, sir.”

Mildred’s laughter was bright and clear. “Your grandfather couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but that never stopped him.”

Later, as we prepared to leave, Mildred clasped our hands, her touch light but full of meaning. “Merry Christmas, you two. May your love grow stronger with each passin’ day. And may you always find the magic in the little moments.”

EPILOGUE

COLTON

One Year Later…

“Hey, stranger,” Hope said, wrapping her arms around me in a warm hug.

“Miss me already?” I teased, pulling back enough to see her face. “It’s been, what? A whole three hours since breakfast?”

“Three hours too long,” she quipped, rolling her eyes. “What’s goin’ on, Colton? You’ve been actin’ weird all day. It’s Christmas. Isn’t this your favorite day of the year?”

“Funny, I thought it was yours.” I grinned, taking her hand and leading her toward the gazebo in the center of the town square. “Anyway, I’m not being weird. I think you’re imagining things.”

She shook her head as we reached the gazebo. Beneath its arching beams, a small table waited, topped with a beautifully wrapped box tied with a red velvet ribbon.

Hope raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“Only one way to find out.” I gestured toward the table, my palms sweating despite the cold. I watched as she stepped forward, her fingers brushing over the ribbon before carefully untying it. My heart pounded harder with every second.

When she opened the box, her breath hitched. Inside was a shiny new cookie tin.

“Is this more vegan, gluten-free cookies or a time capsule?” she asked softly, her fingers tracing its edge with reverence—as if she already knew the answer.

“Open it and find out,” I said, stepping closer.

She opened the lid, her smile widening as she lifted the stack of photos from last Christmas as well as the season we were currently enjoying. “Aw, I love these. You’ve even got Gertie in here.”

“She may be a menace, but she’s our menace. And by that, I mean all of Charlotte Oaks, of course.”

Her laughter filled the gazebo, bright and full of love. She pulled out the next item: a candy cane to represent the night we’d filled the mailboxes with them. Then came the recipe for the cookies she loved so much, followed by a tiny, dried-up branch from that first tree lot trip. There were other little things, too, and every item was a memory, a piece of the journey that had brought us here.

But as Hope reached the bottom of the tin, she stilled. Nestled among the keepsakes was a small velvet box.

Her eyes met mine. “Colton?”

Taking a deep breath, I steppedforward and took her hands in mine. The rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of us.

“Hope,” I began, my voice steady despite the wild thumping of my heart. “I know letting people in hasn’t always been easy for you. But you let me in, and it’s been the greatest gift of my life. I want to be the person who’s always here for you, no matter what.”

She visibly shuddered, and my heart swelled.

“I want to be the man who makes all your wishes come true. Not just at Christmas but all year long. Every year, for as long as we live.” Slowly, I lowered myself to one knee, the velvet box in hand.

Hope gasped, her free hand covering her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Hope Calhoun,” I said, opening the box to reveal the ring. “Will you marry me?”

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