He smiled from the doorway. “Of course. That’s how I conned you into marrying me, after all.”
I yawned. “It wasn’t a con if I willingly participated.”
“True.” His eyes softened. “Have a good rest, my love.”
I closed my eyes as the door clicked shut, and I smiled into my blanket. I could barely believe that only three years ago we were still bickering every time we saw each other.
Not that we’d stopped that, mind you.
And now, here I was, about to spend my first Christmas back in Castleton as an official resident of the village once more.
Not only that, I was married.
I was having a baby.
I hadn’t left behind the life I’d built—I’d taken it with me and rebuilt it brick by brick, stone by stone, and tile by tile.
It hadn’t been easy.
But now, as I lay here, giggling into my blanket at the sound of my husband telling my sister to, “Shut up before you wake her up,” I knew one thing.
It was worth it.
Every tear, every bit of sweat, every moment I spent lying awake, wondering if I was making the right choices.
It was all worth it.
All because Thomas had, once upon a time, saved my Christmas.
