Chapter 8 - A Real Christmas
Two weeks after the court hearing, Christmas Eve arrived at our lake house in Excelsior.
The house was filled with the warm, rich scent of pine needles, roasting turkey, and freshly baked ginger cookies. A massive fifteen-foot Christmas tree stood in the two-story living room, dripping with twinkling lights and hundreds of colorful ornaments that Rosalind and the boys had spent three days hanging.
For forty-four years, Christmas in the Vance family had been a stiff, formal affair—catered dinners in formal evening wear, classical harpists in the drawing room, and polite conversations with corporate board members.
This Christmas was gloriously chaotic.
Leo and Julian were running around the living room in matching plaid flannel pajamas, giggling as they chased our newly adopted golden retriever puppy, Barnaby, whom I had surprised them with three days earlier.
"Slow down, boys!" Rosalind laughed from the kitchen counter, where she was frosting sugar cookies.
I walked up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, resting my chin on her shoulder. "Let them run. They have five years of energy to burn off."
Rosalind leaned back against my chest, turning her head to kiss my cheek. "Look at them, Christopher. They’re so happy."
I looked over at my sons. Leo was attempting to teach the puppy how to sit, while Julian was sitting under the tree, carefully arranging tiny wrapped boxes for the puppy’s stocking.
"We’re all happy," I murmured, sliding my hand into my pocket, feeling the small, velvet box I had been carrying for two weeks.
After dinner, as the snow fell softly outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, the boys collapsed on the rug in front of the roaring fireplace, exhausted from playing with the puppy.
I sat on the sofa beside Rosalind, holding her hand.
"Boys," I said softly.
Leo and Julian looked up, their dark eyes shining in the firelight.
"I have one more present for your mom tonight," I said, pulling the small velvet box from my pocket.
Rosalind’s breath hitched in her throat. She looked at the box, then up at me, her eyes wide with shock and sudden, overwhelming emotion.
I slid off the sofa onto one knee before her, holding the open box in my hands. Inside sat a breathtaking, three-carat emerald-cut diamond ring, simple, timeless, and flawless.
"Rosalind," I said, my voice steady and filled with profound love. "Six years ago, I lost you because I wasn't brave enough to see through the walls my family built around me. I can't undo the years we lost, but I swear to spend every day of my life making sure you and our sons never feel alone, unsafe, or unloved again. Will you marry me?"
Leo scrambled up from the floor, leaning over my knee to look at the glittering ring. "Is that a diamond, Daddy? Are you asking Mommy to stay forever?"
"Yes, buddy," I smiled, looking at my son, then back up at Rosalind. "I’m asking her to stay forever."
Rosalind let out a joyous sob, wiping tears from her eyes as she pulled me up toward her, pressing her lips to mine in a long, beautiful kiss.
May you like
"Yes, Christopher!" she wept against my lips. "Yes, of course!"
The boys cheered, jumping up and down on the rug, while the puppy began to bark happily, joining in the glorious, noisy celebration of our new life together.
