His father kept cracking jokes between instructions, turning even the smallest kitchen mishap into something ridiculous enough to make me smile without meaning to. It was just a family moving around each other like they had done this a thousand times before, letting me stand gently at the edge of it without ever making me feel like I didn't belong there.
"April, sweetheart, can you hand me those plates?" Alice called from the kitchen without even looking up from the oven.
The endearment hit me strangely every single time.
Other than July, I don't remember anyone really using endearments for me. But Bram's family did it so naturally, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world, and even Bram had these quiet, almost playful endearments tied to forests and wilderness.
I still had to fight those old moments, those familiar inner voices that tried to tell me I didn't deserve this much love or respect, that I was somehow borrowing something temporary. But this time, I didn't let them stay for long. I let them pass through, and I tuned them out, slowly, like turning down a distant noise until all that was left was the present.
Bramwell appeared beside me carrying two bowls before I could reach for the cabinet.
"You're thinking too loudly again," he murmured. Bramwell grinned faintly before leaning down just enough that only I could hear him over the noise around us.
"You okay?"
That impossible attentiveness returned. No matter how crowded any place became, no matter how many people surrounded us, Bramwell always noticed the exact moment my breathing changed or my shoulders tightened slightly too high.
I nodded once and his expression softened immediately.
"We can leave early."
I knew he meant it. He would walk out of his own family Christmas dinner without hesitation if I genuinely needed to leave. Before I could answer, Alice appeared beside us carrying another tray.
"I made the caramel pie specifically because Bramwell informed me you nearly cried the first time you ate it."
Heat flooded instantly into my face. Bramwell looked delighted with himself. "That was private information, actually."
"Thank you," I said quietly.
"Stop hovering over the girl," Martin said, his tone light but amused as he glanced toward his wife.
"I am not hovering," she replied immediately, without even looking offended. "I am spoiling my favourite daughter in law."
"She is our only daughter in law," Martin corrected her, before turning slightly toward me with an easy smile. "April, dear, and I made you roast potatoes just the way you like them. Extra crispy on the edges, soft in the middle, and yes, I did in fact argue with Alice about the timing of them."
I swallowed hard and thanked him, the words coming out softer than I intended. When I made my way toward the kitchen, I paused there for a moment, eyes closing briefly as something tight rose in my chest.Please God, let me keep this forever.
"You with me?" Bramwell's voice came quietly from behind me as he followed me into the kitchen. I nodded once, still not trusting my voice to hold properly. His thumb brushed gently over my wrist. Then he stepped back just enough to give me space.
During the dinner, at one point, Bramwell's father leaned over while refilling everyone's drinks with the seriousness of someone about to deliver classified information.
"So," his father said in a conspiratorial tone, "have you figured out yet that my son has been in love with you since the owl incident?"
"Dad," Bramwell said immediately.
"I'm just saying," his father continued without missing a beat, "he rang me at midnight sounding like a Victorian poet announcing he'd met his soulmate in the woods."
"I hate this family," Bramwell muttered.
His mother, completely unfazed, let out a soft snort from across the table. "No you don't."
His father carried on like he hadn't spoken.
"I'm just saying, I have watched this man survive storms, fire lines, and wilderness emergencies with complete composure. Then you smiled at him once and suddenly I was taking calls from a lovesick forestry bard."
"Dad."
"'Dad, April did this today.'" Martin lowered his voice dramatically. "'Dad, April likes this trail.'" He glanced at me."'Dad,'" he added dramatically, "'I was sitting next to April and I could literally feel my heartbeat in my throat.'"
