Page 59 of Mothballs & Mistletoe
He kissed her cheek. She relaxed into his chest.
“So… No take-backs.”
Maelic snorted. He was getting used to her offhand comments. Good. He’d just signed up for life.
“I would never return such a gift.”
She nuzzled into the soft fur of his neck. Her heartbeat finally slowed.
“Merry Christmas, Maelic.”
His chest rumbled. He rubbed his face against her hair.
“MerryChresmasto you as well, though it has been a few rotations since we boarded.”
The laugh cracked out of her before she could stop it.
Grandpa used to say Christmas lights kept the darkness at bay. She’d thought he was wrong. Thought the darkness had won when she buried him, when the farm died, when she’d been so alone she could barely remember what hope felt like.
Turns out, she just needed a bigger light. Apparently one attached to a weird alien, but hey—what can you do?
The grief hadn’t gone anywhere. It probably never would. But grief didn’t mean she had to stop living. For the first time since Grandpa died, she wasn’t standing still.
She was finally moving forward.
Moving forward with her mothman. And she couldn’t be more excited for the future it promised.
