Page 42 of Tee the Season

The response is immediate—kids surging forward, parents pulling out phones. Sophie’s first in line, naturally, climbing into his lap with the easy affection of someone who’s known him her whole life.

I check the laptop screen. The donation counter has hit $4,293. Higher than last year. Higher than I ever dreamed.

“Congrats,” Leah says quietly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Pish,” she says, waving a hand. “I only helped with the decorations. Rory’s the one with the vision.”

It’s true. Rory didn’t just help last year; he became part of the tradition, the community, and the magic. And this year, he’s taken the logistics and promotion seriously. “I couldn’t have grown it like this without him.”

“Maybe not.” Leah’s watching the families waiting patiently, the virtual attendees still sending donations in. “But he didn’t stay for this. He stayed for you.”

The words settle in my chest. A year ago, I might have deflected, insisting I was nothing special. But Rory, who wasn’t even thinking about settling down, chose me. Chose this life.

Not because I needed him. But because he wanted to.

“Next up!” Rory calls, waving forward a little girl in a red velvet dress. But his eyes find mine across the room, and he winks.

Then his hand drops to the armrest. His fingers tap once. Twice. Three times.

A promise. A reminder. A preview of later, when the store is closed and locked and it’s just us and this chair and everything we’ve built together. Heat floods through me.

“You’re blushing,” Leah observes, far too smug.

“Mind your business.”

“I’m just saying, the two of you have been engaged for a month, and you still look at each other like—”

“Leah.”

But she’s laughing, and I’m laughing, and across the room Rory’s still watching me with the look that says he knows exactly what I’m thinking. That he’s thinking it, too.

That later, when everyone’s gone, he’s going to make very good on that promise.

Aunt Mae catches my eye and gives me a thumbs up. Behind her, through the window, snow is falling again. Gentle flakes drifting down onto Main Street, coating everything in white magic.

Just like last year. Just like the beginning.

But this time, I’m not standing here alone wondering what comes next. This time, I know exactly where I belong and who I belong with.

“Come on,” I tell Leah, pushing off the bookshelf. “Let’s go help manage the photo line before Sophie asks Rory about the baby thing in front of everyone.”

“Smart thinking.” Leah follows me into the controlled chaos. “Though honestly? From what Hays tells me, I don’t think he’d mind.”

I stop short and spin around. “What did Hays tell you?”

“Only that Rory was asking what it’s like now that I’m pregnant. If Hays feels ready to be a dad.”

“Oh.”

“Neither of them does anything halfway. That’s why we love ’em, right?”

It’s true. That’s the thing about Rory—he’s all in. On this life, this town, this future we’re building together. But so am I.

***