But this? This brings tears to my eyes.

After another long moment of my silence, Aaron says, “So…can I come in?”

Still in a daze, I step back so he can walk inside. He removes his coat and hangs it on the rack that only holds my winter coat, giving me time to finally find my words.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Good surprise, I hope?”

To hell with my distance, at least for tonight. I nod eagerly. “Good surprise.”

He smiles again, as bright as a thousand diamonds.

Paws pitter-patter behind us, and a second later, Molly’s face is brushing against Aaron’s pants, her tail again wagging like crazy.

“Molly, stop it,” I chastise.

“It’s okay,” Aaron says as he pets her. Leaning closer to her ear, he then whispers, “I’ve missed you too.”

Aaron Scott-Perez alone? Very handsome.

Aaron Scott-Perez on my landing on Christmas night with a Tupperware full of food he knows I couldn’t cook for myself? Sexy as hell.

But Aaron Scott-Perez talking to my dog while petting her? I’m melting. Literally. I’m so hot, I think I’ll need to reapply deodorant in a few minutes.

“I hope you didn’t miss Christmas dinner with your family, though,” I say, guilt starting to claw through me as I realize it’s only 7:30 p.m.

“Nah, don’t worry. We ate early because Dad doesn’t go to bed late anymore.”

“Oh, okay, good.”

He looks around the place, his gaze sticking to the tree. “It looks good in here.”

“I love it,” I say honestly. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to spend a Christmas without a natural tree emanating a strong scent of pine that fills the room. It’s not a simple decoration; it transforms the place in its entirety.

Looking back at me, Aaron simply smiles, as if the fact of being here, in this apartment, makes him happy.

It certainly makes me happy to have him here.

“Thank you,” I say in a low voice. I don’t think I need to explain what I’m thanking him for. He knew I’d feel lonely, probably before I even realized it. He’s truly something else.

He grins, then says, “Oh, and before I forget.” With a fast pace, he walks to the coatrack and pulls a large white envelope from inside the pocket of his coat. On it is written my name in a beautiful calligraphy, four simple but bold letters. And at the top of it is a tiny red ribbon made of tinsel.

He brought me a gift.

He drove here and brought me a gift, and meanwhile I am here, empty-handed and feeling so inadequate I could die.

“Aaron, you didn’t need to—”

Handing the envelope to me, he says, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing.”