Page 90 of The Bright Side of Christmas
Then it happens.
Adam hits a switch or plugs something in—I can’t tell because I’m lost in the shock of the moment—but the next thing I know,I’m blinded. Thousands and thousands of tiny lights glow from his home, illuminating every corner of his house. It’s so bright I have to squint a bit, and clapping erupts from behind me, accompanied by cheers from what I now realize is a good chunk of the neighborhood.
There aren’t any crazy decorations on the lawn other than the ones I’ve been sneaking on, and it’s just a fuck ton of white lights except for a few strands of green garland that I know to be new, but the house is all decked in lights, perfectly decorated. My eyes start to water as I look up at him on the steps, his grin illuminated by the lights.
He did this for me.
“Ready?” he calls out down the walkway.
“There’s more?”
Somehow, his grin gets wider before he looks down at his phone and hits something there.
That’s when the music starts.
My heart beats rapidly as I watch it happen, as the lights start to blink in time with an all too familiar holiday song: my favorite holiday song.
One the man in front of me wrote.
“All Lit Up.”
I shift my gaze back to the steps, looking for Adam, but he’s already moving toward me, then stepping behind me, forcing my back to his front and putting his hands on my hips. He ducks down, his chin resting on my shoulder.
“What do you think?” His voice is low in my ear, words only for me.
“Adam… this is…”
The house starts twinkling along, and tears fill my eyes, especially as I look down the street both ways and realize it’scompletely lit up. Every home is glowing, the magic of the season fully activated. The music plays, the lights blinking on and off in time with the song, and I have to swallow a lump in my throat before I turn in Adam’s arms. “You didn’t have to do this for me,” I say low.
“Are you mine?” he asks, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes as he says the words we’ve exchanged a handful of times now.
“Yeah, Adam. I’m yours.”
“There is nothing I wouldn’t do to show you how I feel about you.”
“All Lit Up”—his song, the song he told me he hates, the one that sits as a reminder of things he hasn’t accomplished yet—rings out loud as the lights adorning every inch of his home blink on and off.
But all I can do is stare at him.
“You hate this song. And you hate Christmas.”
He shakes his head. “I might not love the holidays the way you do, and I’m warning you now, I probably never will.”
I look at him through watery eyes.“I don’t think anyone loves Christmas the way I do, Adam.”
A soft expression takes over his face as a hand on my waist lifts to brush away the tear I didn’t realize had fallen. “But I came to Holly Ridge, and I found that there’s a bright side to Christmas. It’s not the lights, and it’s not the tree, and it’s not the songs or the presents.”
My lower lip wobbles, and even though I tell myself it’s because it’s been a long, emotional day and I’m running on little sleep, I know that’s not why.
He pulls me in closer and whispers, “It’s that right there.” My brow furrows, but he doesn’t make me wait for the explanation. “It’s the way your face lit up when the lights went on, when you saw the way it was bright and shining. That? That’s the brightestpart of my year, Wren. I can’t be mad at Christmas or Christmas lights, not when they brought me you.”
“Adam, I—” I start but stop when his hand moves, tucking a few loose strands behind my ear, and he gives me the softest, sweetest smile.
It’s one I’ve seen before when my dad looks at my mom, and my heart begins to race.
“I love you, Wren,” he says simply. He’s a man who has written some of the most heartfelt lyrics I’ve ever heard, someone who is a master of words and making them count, and somehow, I can’t imagine more beautiful words coming from his lips.
“I love you, too,” I whisper. The song continues to play behind me, the lights flickering on and off, my neighbors becoming carolers as they sing along, as Adam dips his head down.
