Page 94 of Christmas Crisis
“No. I’m just saying it’s something I’d support if you ever wanted to. Obviously, my home is with you. If you want to stay in Los Angeles, then I’ll start planning to move there. But I kind of get the feeling that you don’t?”
She sucked in her bottom lip. “A part of me would love to come home. But I also feel like I want to prove myself at my job first. I know I can be good at it, that I can earn my coworkers’ respect and Walt’s trust. It’s nice to know Coleman Creek is on the table, but we just did this big, huge thing—making the leap into a relationship. We don’t need to change everything all at once.”
“As long as we’re committed to being together, we can keep talking.” I lowered my voice, holding her tightly. “But just so you’re clear, nothing about this leap feels too big to me. I’m not scared or worried or overwhelmed. I was all those things without you, but with you… With you, I can do anything. You might be @theadventurousmiranda, but I’m the one starting the most exciting journey of my life. All because of you.”
“I love you,” she hushed out. “We’re going to be together forever, aren’t we?”
“Yes, my beautiful, precious love. We’re going to be together forever.”
In the background, chaos reigned as Victorian carolers belting out “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” competed with an a cappella rendition of Ariana Grande’s “Santa Tell Me.” I heard none of it, fully focused on the woman in my arms.
Miranda kissed me, and it was as much of a revelation as the dozens of kisses we’d shared since we declared our love. It was the promise of a future and a memory of the past.
The kiss was late nights laughing and video chatting, lamenting terrible hiking trails and wealthy clients demanding perfection. It was confessions of grief and shame, worries about the future, fears of being stuck in the present. It was power walking past toddlers at Disneyland and shaking a vending machine on the side of the road to get the Three Musketeers stuck on the ring. The kiss was the way she pretended to faint whenever she saw my dystopian paintings, and the secret smile we exchanged when someone mentioned Barbie or Thor. It was shared history, built-up trust, and so much more than just pressing our mouths together.
It was everything. She was everything.
And now we belonged to each other.
For real.
Epilogue
Leo
CHRISTMAS
My parents shook their heads at me and Miranda while exchanging glances with James, Marley, Maureen, and even Will.
The eight of us sat across various seats in the living room. Marley had talked us into putting on the footie pajamas from last year. As ridiculous as I looked in the gingerbread men onesie, I appreciated the do-over as Miranda snapped about five thousand happy selfies of us.
“Pay up,” Maureen said to Marley, sticking out her hand.
“Nuh-uh.” Marley swatted it away. “You just said there was no way they’d been dating since summer. You didn’t guess the part about dating Stone.”
“If Maureen’s getting paid, I want to get paid,” James said.
“No one’s getting paid,” our mom said. “Besides, you only guessed they weren’t really dating at all.”
“And you kind of had an unfair advantage there since you knew about Leo being demi-ace,” Will reasoned.
“Well, I still can’t believe the whole thing,” Marley declared. Glaring at Miranda, she said, “Seriously, Stone Caseman?”
Miranda shrugged.
“What were the bets exactly?” I asked.
“They weren’t bets. More like conversations you weren’t a part of. We knew you guys were hiding something about this whole situation,” my dad replied. “We disagreed about what it could be.”
“Well, we’re not hiding anything now,” Miranda said.
“We’re aware,” Maureen said dryly. “When Will and I decided to stay at the house last night, we forgot the walls were so thin.”
I leaned around Miranda to grin at her.
Miranda and I had just told our family the whole story. Even Bambi and Oscar were in the room. There had been a lot to tell—everything with Stone, my reasons for not dating, and some of what had happened between us. We kept the more private details to ourselves but had agreed that our family deserved the truth. They could be trusted to keep it to themselves and not harm Stone.
We had, however, ended the truth-telling with our families. As far as our coworkers and others were concerned, we were sticking to the story we’d given the public.
