Page 112 of Winning the Nightcap

“What a beautiful life you two have given me,” she says, her voice thick with emotion.

“What a beautiful life you gave us,” I say back to her. Her eyes meet mine before the first tear falls and the three of us spend a few minutes honoring the moment, the Millers quietly giving us some privacy as they move to the kitchen to get dessert ready.

“I love you, Mom,” Evie says before enveloping her in a hug so tight it looks painful. I’m about to pull her off, but Mom just giggles.

“And I love you, sweet girl. I love you both so very much.”

Mom and Evie take off after dessert, leaving me with Bec and her family for the rest of the night.

Ashton waits about…oh, I don’t know…all of thirty seconds before asking, “So…Aiden, you up for a game of Pictionary?”

I’ll be hearing this joke for the rest of my life, which I have no problem with. That’ll mean I’m lucky enough for Bec to keep me around, and really that’s all I want for Christmas this year and every year after that.

* * *

After I fail miserably at Pictionary with the Millers again, thankfullywith less embarrassment this time, Bec, Hop, and I head home for the night.

I follow them into our apartment. The merging of our belongings in a hodgepodge fashion is comforting…with the exception of the dead plant graveyard Bec insisted on keeping when she moved in. I have a soft spot for her relentless optimism. And hey, that one plant she had her eye on does look a little greener in the daylight. Sort of. Well, that’s what she says, so I agree with her.

I make us a drink and the three of us move into the living room to exchange presents. Of course, Hopper goes first. When Bec gives him the cue, he tears into the wrapping paper, shredding it to get to his new bone and stuffed reindeer. His tail flops loudly on the floor, making his appreciation and excitement known.

“You first, babe,” I say, handing over her gift. She doesn’t hesitate, tearing into the packaging almost as eagerly as Hop did before pulling out the comforter I bought.

“New bedding? You know how important it is to me to have the perfect comforter. Thank you, Aiden,” she says, feeling the fabric in her hands.

“That’syournew bedding. Part of your gift is that Hopper got his own identical blanket for the bed. You both deserve to be comfortable and I can’t mediate the blanket battles anymore. You both get your own from now on.”

Bec laughs and crawls into my lap to kiss me, still giggling softly against my lips.

“That’s so very thoughtful and selfish of you at the same time,” she jokes.

“It feels like a win for everyone,” I say with a smirk.

“Uh-huh. Sure, hun,” she says.

Bec stands and grabs an envelope from one of the stockings and hands it to me. “This is your gift,” she says a little quieter, anundertone of anxiousness in her voice.

I open the envelope and read each word carefully…twice.

My heart beats wildly, pounding so loud I swear I can hear it. My eyes burn and a quiet choking sound escapes my throat when I try to speak. I cough to clear it.

“I hope this is okay,” she says hesitantly.

“Bec, what is this?” I ask in disbelief.

“I spoke with the Aviators’ community liaison—the same person you worked with to orchestrate the partnership with New Hope—and we’re working on finalizing the details with another organization. Next season, the team will be an official partner of the local Alzheimer’s Family Resource Center. The Aviators will be supporting the organization and the work they do to help families who need assistance accessing care for their loved ones.”

I’m speechless, unable to even look at her. I keep staring at the paper and the words all blur together.

“I didn’t know what to get the man who can afford anything. Did I overstep? I’m sor—”

I drop the paper and pull Bec into my arms, both of us kneeling on the floor next to our tree and our dog. I can’t stop the tears from falling.

“It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. You’re incredible, babe. I love you so fucking much. It doesn’t feel possible to love you more…then you go and do something like this.” I devour her in a hungry kiss that leaves us both panting when we part, and I hold her head in my hands. “Thank you, Bec.”

She’s crying, too, holding her palms over my hands as I stroke my thumbs over her cheeks, wiping her tears away after they fall.

“I love you too.” She presses another soft kiss to my lips. “Oh, and I also wanted to give you something small to unwrap,” she says before standing to grab the last gift under the tree, wiping the last of hertears away with the back of her hand.

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