Christmas arrived wrapped in snow and silence.
The city was quieter than usual—families tucked inside, holiday lights blinking in the darkness, a hush that felt almost sacred. The penthouse smelled like pine and cinnamon. Adrian had insisted on a real tree, despite my arguments about needles and cat safety.
"Pickles will eat the needles," I said.
"Pickles will be fine."
"He'll knock over the ornaments."
"I'll buy shatterproof."
"He'll climb the tree and knock the whole thing down."
Adrian looked at the cat. The cat looked at Adrian.
"Then we'll have a story to tell."
I sighed. "You're impossible."
"You married me anyway."
---
The tree was beautiful.
Tall. Full. Covered in ornaments that Adrian had collected over the years—some old, some new, some that made him pause when he hu
