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“You snorted.”

“I do not snort.”

Dottie snorts.

Noelle glares at her. “Traitor.”

I look down at Shiloh’s cookie to hide my grin.

“It’s a snowman?”

Noelle loses it. She covers her mouth, but it doesn’t help. Her shoulders shake.

Shiloh gasps. “Daddy!”

“What?”

“It’s Olaf!”

I look at the cookie again.

Apparently I’ve insulted him.

“My mistake.”

Noelle turns away, still laughing.

“Don’t encourage him,” I say.

That makes her laugh harder.

And I… Christ, I like it. I like the sound of her laughing in my kitchen. I like Shiloh bouncing beside me, talking so quickly I can barely understand him. I like the ridiculous music.

I’ve been home less than five minutes. I’m pretty sure nothing is where I left it. There are reindeer in my fountain, and somehow my house feels more familiar than it did when I walked out of it a month ago. More mine.

I look at Noelle. She catches me staring.

Her laughter fades.

For a second, everything around us seems to go quiet.

Not actually. Shiloh is still talking. The music is still playing. Dottie is banging around behind us. But I don’t hear any of it.

Just her.

Just me.

My wife.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingers aren’t quite steady.

“So,” she says.

“So.”

Her nose wrinkles and I think it might be the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. “This is weird.”

A laugh escapes me.