Page 131 of Forgiving Utah

He pauses with one foot already out the door, keys in hand. “So? I'm doing this for me, not you.”

The door shuts behind him before I can respond, leaving me alone with the tree. Its lights flicker unevenly at me like some kind of plea for help in Morse code, and I tug at my hair until it stings a little.

Gifts were always a no-go for me because nine times out of ten, they came with expectations. A favor in return, or something to be held over my head later on. It always felt like a liability. Maybe I don’t have to feel that way anymore.

Reaching out, I nudge the star to straighten it just a hair as I marvel to myself. “Tradition, huh?”

A promise to be there long enough to start one. As permanent and terrifying as that sounds… It also feels safe.

Like I've finally found something in my life worth keeping, and something worthy of keeping me.

Christian’s hand is warm in mine when we step inside his mom's house on Christmas Eve.

Heat and noise spill out all at once, sounds of laughter and music hitting my ears. The smell of something buttery-sweet makes my stomach roil, half from hunger and half from nerves. I hesitate just long enough for Christian to notice, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a quiet check-in.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” I lie, then decide to go with the truth instead. “No, wait. Hang on.”

He shuts the front door softly, moving closer with a frown. “Okay, you've been twitchy all morning, man. What's up?”

I rub my damp palms on my jeans. “I didn’t get you anything for Christmas.”

Christian's brows jump. “Dev, I don't care⁠—”

“I know,” I cut in quickly. “I tried. I stood in like three different stores this morning and felt like an idiot in all of them. Everything was wrong, like I’d either make it a big deal or completely miss the mark. So, all I’ve got is the truth.”

My pulse kicks up as I take his other hand in mine, dropping my gaze. “I’ve spent most of my life treating my heart like it was something to keep locked up so it couldn’t be used against me. And I don’t know how to wrap that battered fucker up with a bow or how to make it look nice.”

I glance up at him then, at the glow in his hazel eyes. “But you already have it. I just… never said it out loud. So I'm saying it now.” Stepping forward, I softly press my lips to his. “I love you. For sure this time. That’s it. That’s the gift.”

He just stares at me in complete shock at first. Then a smile lights up his face so bright that I’m nearly blinded. “Dev,” he whispers, resting his forehead against mine.

“You don’t have to say it back. I just… needed you to know.”

He lets out a shaky laugh. “Too bad. I love you, too. Been trying to say it for weeks now, but I was scared.”

My chest caves in on itself, and I wrap my arms around him tightly. “Don't ever hold back, hot shot. I want to hear you say it constantly. Forever.”

“Forever,” he agrees, tucking his face into my neck to breathe me in.

For once, my heart isn’t racing because I want to run, but because it finally knows where it belongs.

“Thank you,” Christian says quietly against my throat. “You nailed it. Best gift ever.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You gave me the one thing I actually wanted.”

“What’s that?”

“You.” A small, crooked smile pulls at his mouth, and I swear if we weren't currently on his mother's porch, I'd bend him over the railing right this instant.

Speaking of.

The front door flies open, spilling light over us as his mom steps onto the porch.

“Mijo!” she exclaims, rushing forward to kiss his cheek. Her soft eyes land on me. “Devon, sí?”