I’m almost winded by the end of it, and far from looking disappointed or annoyed, my grandmother almost seems…proud.

“And what about your living arrangements?”

I deflate slightly as I look around the familiar sitting room, the warm and inviting furniture, the well-loved books layered on the shelves. It’s home, especially now with all the familiar Christmas decor in place.

“I was thinking it would be okay if I stayed here…”

She nods solemnly. “I see no issue with anything you’ve asked for, though Margaret will be sad to lose access to your closet.”

I smile at her quip and then let my gaze fall on the Christmas tree once more.

“Is it small of me not to demand more? Am I weak for not wanting to leave this life altogether? Find a little apartment and pave my own way? Not many twenty-five-year-olds still live with their grandmother…”

“So what of other twenty-five-year-olds? Who gets to say what’s best for a person? I think whatever makes you happy should be enough.”

I nod. “True. It’s just… I know we don’t talk about it much, but after losing my parents so young…” I shake away the sadness lurking in the periphery of my mind and heave a deep breath. “I guess I’m just not quite ready to leave you if that’s okay.”

She stands then and walks to me, bending so she can hug me close. She squeezes me against her chest as she leans down and presses a kiss to my hair. I’m enveloped in her scent and softness. Every inch of her is a comfort.

“You’re the most precious part of my life, Lainey, but you should know I’ve never experienced a challenge on earth quite so hard as parenting, and even in my old age, I don’t think I’ve quite mastered it.” She peels back to cup my face with her hand. “You understand I would never have forced you down the aisle if it wasn’t what you wanted.”

I lean away slightly so I can wipe away the residual tears as she continues, “If you’ll let me explain myself, I do admit to playing matchmaker…a bit. Royce was a good man and I won’t apologize too strongly for trying to safeguard your future happiness, but I can see now how wrong I was about the two of you. It’s so clear that you have always been meant for Emmett.”

My jaw drops. “You can’t be serious. Did you not listen to a single thing I just told you? It’s done, these old-fashioned betrothals—all of it.”

She smiles and pats my shoulder. “We’ll see about that.”

“You’ll never stop!” I tease, and she winks and shrugs, playing coy.

“Oh, I don’t think it’s me you need to worry about now…”

Chapter Thirty

Emmett

I receive exactly one gift on Christmas morning, and it’s a note sent directly to my home via courier.

I’m fireside, in buffalo check pajamas, sipping spiked eggnog and wallowing at 8 AM, when my doorbell rings. The thought that it could be Lainey, here to pick up where we left off last night, is the only thing that gets me off the couch.