Page 72 of Decoded
“Merry Christmas, Husband.”
When he kisses me, it makes me want to forget everything we have planned for the day and immediately go spend the day in our bed. I pull him closer and when I wrap my leg around his thigh, he laughs and pulls away. “As much as I would love that Christmas present, Baby, I think there are some things for you under our tree.”
I lean up and place an excited kiss against my husband’s lips, then squeal as I rush into the living room, eager to start a new tradition with the man I love. We decorated the twelve-foot beast of a tree together. It’s dripping in reds and bright greens, looking perfectly festive and perfectly perfect. With it only being the two of us, there are only two gifts underneath. I smile at the hope of one day this space being filled with bicycles and dollhouses.
Keaton sits in his favorite chair with his mug of coffee, and I walk the gift I carefully wrapped over to him. I perch on the arm, and he wraps an arm around me. “I love you.”
I smile at him. “I love you too but open your gift!”
He laughs and sits his coffee down. Then, with the speed of a sloth, he unwraps his present.
“What are you doing?” I ask, appalled.
“Opening my gift.”
“But why are you being so slow?”
He chuckles, “I don’t want to rip the paper. You worked hard on wrapping this and it looks beautiful.”
My jaw drops. “Ripping the paper is half of the fun!”
“Do you want to open it for me?” I shake my head but am dying a little inside with how long it takes him to finally get the paper off and open the box.
I bite my lip as he pulls out the pictures. Photos I took of his family. His mom. Charlie. Him with his brothers. Candid shots I managed to capture and show him how beautiful this family he created is.
“Baby, this is beautiful,” he says quietly while going through the images. And when he gets to the last one, he looks at me with tears in his eyes. “Is this?”
I nod and let tears flow down my cheeks. Because in my husband’s hands is the first picture of what our love created together. He traces his thumb over the ultrasound and sniffs back the tears. “Thank you. Thank you for the best gift I could ever imagine.”
He pulls me into him and captures my lips in a kiss that encompasses so much.
Love.
Joy.
Hope.
Promise.
We pull back and he laughs, “You can finally call me Daddy now and it not be so weird.”
I let out a laugh myself and push at him playfully. “Alright then, Daddy. What’s next?”
He groans, “My gift is going to look so lame now. But it’s that one.” He points to the only other gift under the enormous evergreen. I rush over to pick it up and shake the box.
“Oh my gosh, you’re one of those. A box shaker.”
I smile over at him, “I’m a paper ripper, too.”
As the paper flies through the air, I get to the box underneath and open it up. Inside is a stunning top-of-the-art professionalcamera. Much better than my current DSLR. There’s also a note typed out on a Phisherman’s Cybersecurity letterhead.
I believe in you.
Make your dreams come true.
You’re fired.
I turn to my husband to find out what he means.
