It took a little over four hours, but finally, my apartnt started looking like Christmas.
Correction — our apartnt.
At least, that’s what Val called it after she declared I didn’t have "the aesthetic coordination or emotional sensitivity required to handle sothing as sacred as Christmas décor."
Which is why, for the last few hours, I’d mostly stood back as she took full control, orchestrating the living room like a battlefield general ard with tinsel and fairy lights.
The tree ca first — a real one, of course. Val wouldn’t have it any other way. The living room slled faintly of pine as she fluffed the branches and layered them with gold ribbons and snowflake ornants, humming under her breath like she was decorating for royalty. She tied small red bows onto the ends of the curtains, arranged the gift boxes (empty, of course — "it’s for symtry," she’d said), and placed a glittering reindeer figurine near the window "because every reindeer deserves natural lighting."
The coffee table now had a centerpiece, three white candles arranged in a silver tray surrounded by pinecones and gold-dusted leaves. The air slled faintly of cinnamon and vanilla from the scented candles she’d insisted on lighting.
It was chaos — organized, sparkling chaos. But sohow, when she was done, the place looked like the kind of picture you’d see on a Christmas magazine cover.
Val took a step back, hands on her hips, surveying her masterpiece. "There," she said with satisfaction. "Now it feels like Christmas."
I didn’t argue. Mostly because she was right, and partly because she’d been climbing, stretching, and moving around for hours, and the last thing I wanted was to get into another round of "creative debates."
So I just sat on the couch, laptop balanced on my lap, pretending to work while actually scrolling through jewelry collections online. For the first ti since forever, I could actually afford to get her sothing nice, and by nice, I ant expensive nice.
Sothing that could hold its own next to the one piece of jewelry she never took off — the ring she’d made buy in our first sester.
From the bathroom, I heard the sound of running water and her humming. She always humd when she showered, a habit that never failed to make smile. The tune was offbeat, sotis random, but it was her.
The phone vibrating next to broke the mont.
Derrick.
I sighed and picked up. "Hey."
"Hey, Kai! Man, you sound like soone who’s been buried in spreadsheets for three days straight."
I leaned back. "Not far off. What’s up?"
"Nothing much," he said, way too casually, which was my first warning. "Just calling to see if you’re coming to the pre-Christmas party tomorrow."
"What pre-Christmas party?"
"The one so of the teams at the office put together last minute," he said quickly, like if he said it fast enough I wouldn’t realize what he was actually saying. "Y’know, drinks, gas, music. Real festive stuff."
"Last minute," I repeated slowly. "And by ’last minute,’ you an you were part of the planning committee."
"Technically, yes," Derrick admitted. "But in my defense, they needed soone with taste. And you know I’m the life of the party."
I rolled my eyes. "And?"
"And," he continued cheerfully, "you should co. Bring your other half, your plus one, your emotional support human. Everyone’s bringing soone, spouses, girlfriends, boyfriends, maybe even a few grandmas. You know, make it a family thing."
I smirked. "You’re bringing your grandma?"
"Don’t tempt , man. You know she parties harder than half the staff."
I laughed softly. "Yeah, that’s true."
Of course, he was joking, nobody was actually bringing their grandma.
"So you’re coming, right?" He added.
"I’ll think about it," I said, which — for — ant no.
"Cool, cool. Translation: I’ll call you again in two hours to remind you. Later, man."
Before I could respond, he hung up.
I set my phone aside just as the bedroom door opened. Then ca Val, in one of my shirts and shorts so small the shirt barely covered them. Her hair was still damp, curling slightly at the ends, and she slled faintly of vanilla and peppermint.
She caught looking and grinned. "Who was that?"
"Derrick," I said, quickly closing the laptop tab with the jewelry collection before she got curious. The last thing I needed was her noticing and pretending not to know, only to spend the next few days "accidentally guessing" what I’d been looking at.
She nodded and walked over, sitting cross-legged on the couch beside , facing completely. "Work stuff?"
"No," I said. "Apparently, the guys at work planned a pre-Christmas party. Last minute thing."
Her eyes lit up instantly. "A party?"
I pointed at her. "No."
"What?" she said, widening her eyes in mock innocence. "I didn’t even say anything."
"I know that look," I said.
She tilted her head, blinking exaggeratedly. "What look?"
"The one that says you’re already planning what we’re wearing."
Her mouth twitched into a guilty smile. "Okay, maybe a little. But co on, Kai. It’s the holidays! You can’t just sit at ho all day."
"I’m perfectly fine sitting at ho," I said.
She ignored that completely, tugging gently on my hand with both of hers. "Look at it this way. Christmas is about joy, togetherness, and good mories. Staying ho on the couch is not the spirit of the season. You don’t want to be the Grinch who closed Christmas, do you?"
I gave her a flat look. "You just made that up."
> "Doesn’t make it less true."
I huffed a laugh. "How do you even co up with these things?"
She smiled proudly. "It’s a talent."
And sohow, despite knowing exactly how this was going to go, I found myself saying, "Fine. But if Derrick starts singing, I’m leaving."
"Deal!" she said instantly, grinning like she’d just won a war. Then she leaned forward, brushing a kiss on my cheek. "You won’t regret it."
I sighed, because I already did, and yet, I knew I’d go anyway. Because she wanted to. Because seeing her eyes light up like that was worth more than the quiet I’d lose.
And that’s how, four days before Christmas, I found myself parked outside a rented event hall — lights strung across the entrance, music spilling faintly through the walls — wondering, not for the first ti, how she always managed to pull into things I swore I wouldn’t do.
---
To be continued...
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