Christmas
On Christmas morning, Aurora awoke before Oliver, her mind buzzing with excitement for the day ahead. The whole gang was coming over for Christmas morning at their place, and they needed to start cooking soon. But as she lay in bed beside him, she decided to let Oliver sleep a bit longer.
Oliver was sprawled on his stomach, his breathing even and peaceful. The blanket had slipped down to his lower back, exposing his strong shoulders and the gentle curve of his back. Aurora couldn’t help but smile as she took in the sight of him, her heart swelling with affection.
As she carefully slipped out of bed to avoid disturbing him, she couldn’t help but notice how different the apartment looked compared to the previous night. When she had gone to sleep, their home had been completely undecorated, a stark contrast to the vibrant holiday cheer now surrounding them. The once-bare space was now adorned with twinkling fairy lights, festive garlands, and cheerful ornaments. The room had been transformed into a winter wonderland reminiscent of Santa’s workshop.
Aurora’s thoughts drifted back to their recent argument. Oliver had mentioned that he hadn’t decorated because he was too busy with practice, and even after she had moved in, he had said there was no need. Yet, here was a beautifully decorated apartment, clearly prepared with care and thoughtfulness. It dawned on her that he must have gone out of his way to get the decorations before Christmas, as he wouldn’t have had time to do it on Christmas Eve.
With a warm smile on her face, Aurora made her way to the kitchen. She decided she would wake Oliver with a hot cup of coffee, hoping it would start his day on a sweet note. As she brewed the coffee, the rich aroma filled the kitchen, mingling with the festive scents that now permeated their home.
Aurora’s heart was light as she thought about how much Oliver had done to make their Christmas special. The sight of the decorations and the effort he had put into preparing for the day brought a renewed sense of warmth and love. She carefully carried the steaming mug of coffee back to their bedroom, her footsteps soft and deliberate.
When she reached the bedside, she gently placed the coffee on the nightstand right next to Oliver. The steam rose from the cup, carrying the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee. Aurora leaned down and lightly kissed Oliver’s cheek, her touch tender and filled with affection.
Oliver stirred, his eyes fluttering open to the sight of Aurora’s smiling face and the aroma of coffee.
“Merry Christmas,” Aurora whispered, her eyes sparkling with joy. “I thought you might like some coffee to start your day.”
Oliver grabbed her and pulled her into the bed. “Merry Christmas,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for everything.”
She nuzzled closer to him, “I see that a Christmas tree threw up on our house last night”,
“I have no idea what you’re talking about?” oliver smiled. “It must have been Santa”
“Shirtless sants, maybe? " Aurora said, “We really need to begin cooking. Our friends should be here within the hour.”
Oliver’s response was swift. He grabbed her gently and pulled her back into the bed, wrapping his strong arms around her. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and warmth. “Thank you for everything.”
Aurora nestled into his embrace, resting her head against his chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart. She grinned as she glanced around the room, noticing the festive explosion of decorations everywhere. “I see a Christmas tree threw up all over our house last night,” she teased softly, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on his bare shoulder.
Oliver chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath her cheek. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied with a mischievous grin. “It must have been Santa.”
“Shirtless Santa, maybe?” Aurora laughed, the sound light and carefree, though she sighed a moment later, realizing they couldn’t stay in bed all morning. “We really need to start cooking,” she said, though her tone held a note of reluctance. “Our friends are going to be here within the hour.”
Oliver let out a soft groan but nodded, knowing she was right. They had decided to wear matching Christmas pajamas the night before—festive red-and-green plaid sets that Aurora had lovingly picked out for them both. The pants fit Oliver perfectly, hanging low on his hips in a way that made it hard for Aurora not to admire him. His shirtless torso, still slightly warm from sleep, added an extra layer of allure that made her want to crawl right back into bed with him.
As she stood by the bedside, reluctantly pulling herself away, she couldn’t help but let her gaze linger on him. He noticed, of course, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smirk. “Like what you see?”
Aurora blushed, a light flush spreading across her cheeks, but she grinned, playing along. “You look decent enough,” she quipped, though her tone and the glimmer in her eyes betrayed the compliment hidden in her teasing words.
Oliver’s lips curved into a lazy grin as he slowly stretched, his muscles flexing subtly under his skin. “Well, you look amazing,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. His eyes trailed down to the black tank top she wore, which cut off just below her ribs, leaving her midriff exposed to the chilly air. Without thinking, he reached out and gently pulled her back toward him, his hands sliding over her cool skin.
His touch was warm against the contrast of her cold skin, sending a shiver up her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Aurora let out a soft laugh as his fingers traced small circles on her back. “You’re going to make it really hard for me to get out of bed if you keep that up,” she whispered, biting her lip to hide her smile.
Oliver chuckled, his voice rough with sleep. “Maybe that’s the point.” He pulled her even closer, his arms wrapping snugly around her waist, their bodies pressed together in a way that made her feel safe and cherished.
For a brief moment, Aurora let herself melt into the embrace, savoring the warmth of his touch, the scent of him, and the quiet intimacy of the morning. But as much as she wanted to stay wrapped up in him, there was a day ahead, and the gang would be arriving soon.
Reluctantly, she pulled back, her smile softening. “As much as I’d love to stay here all morning, we have a house full of friends coming over soon,” she said, brushing her hand over his cheek before stepping away.
Oliver sighed, playfully dramatic. “Fine, but only because it’s Christmas.”
As Aurora turned to leave the room, she couldn't help but take one last glance over her shoulder at Oliver. Her heart ached slightly, not from doubt but from the lingering pain of betrayal that still lingered after the whole Penelope ordeal. She knew deep down that Oliver was committed to their relationship—he had shown her countless times in the little ways he cared, especially today—but the sting of that situation hadn’t fully faded. Still, she was determined not to let it sabotage what they had built. She loved him, and she knew they could get through this together.
She made her way to the kitchen, thinking about how she and Oliver normally cooked together without magic. It was something they both enjoyed—an excuse to spend time side by side, laughing and chatting while they prepared meals. But this morning, with their friends arriving soon, they didn’t have the luxury of time. Aurora knew only a few basic cooking spells, so she attempted her best, levitating ingredients and trying to get breakfast started. She was focused on cracking eggs when Oliver appeared in the kitchen a moment later, still sleepy but grinning.
“Caught you humming Christmas songs,” he teased as he walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him.
She laughed softly, feeling the warmth of his chest against her back. “You’ve turned me into a Christmas fanatic overnight,” she admitted with a playful smile.
“Good,” he murmured, kissing her temple. “That was the plan.” He glanced around at the apartment, the twinkling lights, and the fully decorated tree. A sheepish grin spread across his face. “I didn’t think I could pull this off without you noticing.”
Aurora turned in his arms, handing him his coffee. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. You even got the tree perfectly straight.”
Oliver chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “I had to use a spell for that,” he admitted. “The last time I tried to set up a tree by myself, it nearly fell over.”
Aurora smiled, a familiar warmth settling in her chest. She stood on her toes and kissed him lightly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “This is perfect, Oliver. Really. I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”
He looked down at her with that earnest, loving expression she had seen so often recently, the one that made her feel like she was the only person in the world. “You deserve it,” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity. “I wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”
Before she could respond, there was a loud burst from the fireplace, followed by Fred and George’s unmistakable boisterous laughter in the living room.
“They’re early,” Aurora groaned with a smile, reluctantly pulling away from Oliver’s embrace.
Fred and George wasted no time barging in, arms loaded with gifts. “Merry Christmas!” they shouted in unison, their infectious energy instantly filling the apartment.
George was holding up his Chudley Cannons mug, the one Oliver had given him as a gift yesterday,“Looks like I get the live version today,” George remarked with a mischievous grin, nodding toward Oliver’s lack of a shirt.
“Well, George, it’s a good thing we’ve brought gifts for you from my mom,” Fred teased, nudging his brother. “This is going to be Aurora’s first Weasley sweater,” he added, pointing to the matching red sweaters they were both wearing.
George smirked. “Yeah, I’ll let Mum know you’ve apparently lost all your shirts. She should knit you more sweaters,” he joked, handing both Oliver and Aurora a gift wrapped in brown parchment and tied with twine.
Aurora eagerly tore into hers, her eyes lighting up when she saw the hand-knit purple sweater with a large “A” stitched into it. She immediately slipped it on, the wool soft and comforting. Oliver followed suit, donning his red sweater with an “O” on it, both of them smiling at the warmth and love that went into each stitch.
“We told Mum you love purple knit,” Fred teased, winking at Aurora, referencing the purple kit blanket fiasco.
Aurora laughed, feeling her cheeks flush at the mention of the blanket, However all she could do is pull the sweater tighter around her, feeling the love and acceptance from the Weasley family wrapped around her shoulders.
Fred, ever the comedian, threw an arm around Aurora’s shoulder, squeezing her affectionately. “Welcome to the family, officially. Once you get a Weasley sweater, there’s no turning back. You're one of us now.”
Aurora smiled, glancing at the growing pile of wrapped gifts under the tree. Each one had the same brown parchment wrapping and twine, all in various shapes and sizes, undoubtedly more sweaters for everyone who’d be joining them. “How many did she knit?” she asked, still a bit stunned by the sheer number of packages.
Fred grinned. “Well, Mum’s got seven kids, their significant others, and all their friends. So… probably over 20 by now.”
Oliver chimed in with a chuckle, leaning against the kitchen counter, his coffee mug in hand. “She does this every year. A sweater for everyone, without fail. Trust me, by the end of the day, this place will be flooded with wool.”
Aurora blinked in surprise, glancing at the pile again. “She must have started knitting in the summer to get all of these done!”
Fred nodded sagely. “Oh, she does. Mum’s a legend when it comes to knitting. It’s practically an Olympic sport for her. But you can’t deny the sweaters are top-notch.”
“They’re amazing,” Aurora said, running her fingers over the soft purple wool of her own sweater. The knit was so perfect, so filled with care, it was almost like wearing a hug from Mrs. Weasley herself. “I can’t believe she made this for me.”
George sauntered over, pretending to be serious as he adjusted his own sweater, which had a big “G” on the front. “She doesn’t just knit for anyone, you know. That sweater means you're part of the exclusive Weasley circle. It’s like a badge of honor.”
Fred added with a wink, “And don’t worry, Mum’s sweaters are practically indestructible. Survived many a Quidditch match, food fight, and dragon dung explosion.”
Aurora laughed, feeling her heart swell. She had always admired the warmth and closeness of the Weasley family from the stories Oliver had shared, but experiencing it firsthand, especially now, was something else entirely. The thought of being truly welcomed into their fold made her feel a mix of excitement and gratitude.
Oliver walked over to her, pulling her close with a grin. “Told you they’d love you,” he whispered softly, his eyes full of warmth as he gazed down at her.
Aurora smiled up at him, feeling a sense of belonging she hadn’t realized she needed. “I love them too.”
“Well, enough sappiness,” George interjected, clapping his hands together, clearly relishing the opportunity to stir things up. “It’s Christmas! Time for presents, food, and embarrassing stories about Oliver!”
Fred’s eyes lit up with glee. “Ah, yes! We’ve got a few good ones ready. Wait until you hear about the time he tried to impress Mum by cooking Christmas dinner when he was fourteen. Spoiler alert—it involved a lot of smoke and a very burnt turkey.”
Oliver groaned dramatically, covering his face with one hand. “Oh no, not that story again. I thought we were past this.”
Just as Fred was about to launch into the full embarrassing retelling, the sound of the door opening interrupted him. Gianna and Pansy strolled in, both wrapped up in thick coats to fight off the morning chill, their faces lighting up as they saw the festive scene in the apartment.
“Saved by the girls,” Oliver muttered under his breath, shooting a grateful look their way.
Fred and George, however, had no intention of letting the moment pass. They immediately abandoned the story to rush over to Gianna and Pansy, Weasley sweaters in hand, eager to officially welcome them into the sweater-clad crew.
“Merry Christmas!” Fred shouted as he dramatically presented a bright pink sweater with a large “G” stitched onto it for Gianna.
“And for you, Miss Pansy,” George added with an exaggerated flourish, handing Pansy a soft green sweater with a silver “P.” “Mum thought you’d look great in Slytherin colors.”
Gianna chuckled, holding the pink sweater up. “I love it! It’s... very Weasley.”
Pansy raised an eyebrow, smirking as she accepted her own sweater. “I suppose this is what it takes to be part of the gang, huh?”
Fred nodded seriously, putting an arm around Pansy’s shoulder. “Oh yes, once you get a Weasley sweater, there’s no going back. It’s practically a binding contract.”
Pansy, who had come to adore the Weasley twins' antics, grinned. “Oh, I’ll wear it. But don’t think this means you get off the hook, Oliver. I still want to hear the story about you ruining Christmas dinner.”
When Theodore, Blaise, and Draco arrived, they barely had time to brush off the snow from their shoulders before Fred and George pounced on them with mischievous grins.
"Ah, just in time!" Fred announced dramatically, holding out a brown parchment-wrapped package to each of them. "Gentlemen, it’s sweater time."
Draco raised an eyebrow, eyeing the package warily. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, we’re very serious,” George chimed in, tossing a matching package at Theodore. “Mum wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Blaise, trying to hold back a laugh, accepted the sweater but couldn’t resist teasing. “So this is what I get for associating with you lot? A hand-knit Weasley masterpiece?”
Fred grinned. “Exactly! You're lucky Mum didn’t give you matching socks, too. But who knows, there’s always next year.”
Draco untied the twine reluctantly and pulled out a dark green sweater with a silver ‘D’ emblazoned on the front. He grimaced but, knowing the Weasley matriarch’s reputation,
begrudgingly put it on. “I suppose I should be grateful she knows my favorite color.”
“Exactly! That’s the Christmas spirit,” George teased, patting Draco on the back, causing Draco to glare but ultimately let out a resigned sigh.
Theodore, on the other hand, smirked as he unfolded his navy-blue sweater with a gold ‘T.’ He slid it on without complaint. “I have to say, it’s surprisingly cozy. I might actually keep this.”
Fred nodded approvingly. “See, Theo gets it! Now you’re officially part of the Weasley family Christmas tradition. There's no escape.”
Blaise shook his head with a chuckle, holding up his sweater—a deep maroon one with a bold ‘B’ on the front. “Well, I can’t say I’ve ever received a personalized sweater before. But I suppose there's a first time for everything.” He slipped it on, raising an eyebrow as it fit perfectly. “I’ll admit, it’s warmer than it looks.”
The twins beamed with pride, exchanging satisfied glances. “Told you, our mum’s knitting skills are unmatched.”
Aurora watched with amusement as the group adjusted to their new sweaters, each wearing expressions that ranged from reluctant acceptance to quiet appreciation. It was a heartwarming sight—Blaise and Theodore laughing in their Weasley sweaters, and even Draco, despite his usual aloofness, was begrudgingly joining in.
Oliver walked over to Draco, shaking his head with a grin. “Looks good on you, Malfoy. Who would’ve thought?”
Draco gave him a dry look but smirked. “I’ll admit, it’s not entirely terrible. Just don’t get used to this.”
Fred and George exchanged gleeful looks. “Oh, we’ll definitely be sending photos of this to Mum. She’ll be so proud.”
“Or better yet,” Fred said, pulling out his wand. “A little moving portrait for the family album.” He waved it toward the group, capturing Draco mid-sigh as he tugged at the collar of his sweater.
“Perfect!” George declared, clearly delighted by the reactions they had managed to stir.
As the morning unfolded, the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filled the apartment, mingling with the lively hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. Oliver and Aurora were busy in the kitchen, moving with practiced ease despite the festive chaos around them. Oliver was flipping pancakes with a dexterity that spoke of many such breakfasts, while Aurora was setting out plates and utensils, her face glowing with the warmth of the scene.
“Oi, Oliver, don’t burn anything this time!” Fred called out, his voice carrying over the festive clamor.
George added with a chuckle, “Yeah, we don’t need a repeat of the infamous Christmas dinner disaster!”
Oliver glanced over his shoulder, a mock glare on his face. “One incident! One burnt turkey and no one ever lets it go.” He tried to hide his smile but failed as he continued cooking. His hands moved deftly, working the stove with a kind of rhythm that showed his comfort in the role.
Aurora nudged him gently with her elbow, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “I don’t know… I’m starting to think I need to hear the full story.”
Oliver laughed, his eyes meeting hers with a playful glint. “Oh, it’s quite the tale. Picture this: a perfectly good turkey, cooked to golden-brown perfection—or so we thought. Only, it turns out, it was more like charcoal briquettes by the time we got to it.”
The group erupted in laughter at the image, and Fred leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Do tell. Was it just the turkey that was a disaster, or did other things go awry?”
Oliver shook his head, trying to suppress his grin. “Well, there was also the stuffing that turned into a rather unfortunate pudding-like substance. And the mashed potatoes? Let’s just say they were more like mashed lumps of... disappointment.”
George chimed in, his voice full of mock sympathy. “Ah, yes. I remember it well. The dinner was quite a memorable experience. We ended up ordering takeout and making the best of it.”
Aurora laughed, shaking her head as she continued arranging the table. “Sounds like a Christmas dinner for the ages.”
Fred threw his hands up dramatically. “It was a classic. We’ll never let Oliver live it down.”
George added with a smirk, “Yeah, so much so he didn't cook a meal again until he met you. We figured he’d sworn off cooking entirely.”
Aurora couldn’t help but smile at the memory, touched by the fact that Oliver had resumed cooking, partly to impress her. “Well, I’m glad he did. It’s nice to see him back in the kitchen, especially with all the effort he puts into it.”
Oliver grinned and, holding up a spatula, declared with mock seriousness, “I was secretly perfecting my skills. So Twelve years later to the day, I could make the best Christmas breakfast ever.”
The twins exchanged amused glances. “Well, mission accomplished,” Fred said, raising his mug in a toast. “This breakfast is already looking epic.”
George nodded, adding with a chuckle, “And it seems like we’ve been saved from any burnt offerings this year.”
Oliver laughed, playfully pointing the spatula at the twins. “You two better watch out. Next year, I might make it a full Christmas feast and invite you all for a taste of my legendary cooking.”
Aurora couldn’t help but laugh at the banter. The room was filled with an easy warmth that made her feel even more at home. As she glanced at Oliver, who was expertly flipping pancakes, she felt a deep sense of gratitude for this moment. It was clear that despite the challenges they’d faced, their friends and the holidays were providing the perfect backdrop for healing and joy.
When breakfast was finally ready, Oliver called everyone to the table. “Alright, let’s dig in before the food gets cold!”
The group gathered around the table, their plates filled with a hearty spread. The conversation flowed freely as everyone enjoyed the meal, with Fred and George’s lighthearted antics adding to the festive atmosphere.
As they ate, the conversation around the table was filled with festive cheer, but Pansy leaned closer to Aurora, her voice low but filled with warmth. “Things are going really nice between me and Fred so far,” she said, her eyes reflecting genuine happiness.
Aurora, understanding the delicate nature of the conversation, smiled warmly. “I’m so glad to hear that, Pans. It’s really for the best.”
Pansy’s eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and affection. “When I woke up this morning, there was a bouquet of white and red roses from Fred on my kitchen counter. Next to the flowers was a bottle of my favorite perfume and a card. It was just so nice to see him being so serious about something, you know?”
Aurora’s smile widened, touched by Pansy’s words. “That sounds absolutely wonderful. Fred can be quite the goofball, but underneath it all, he’s a great guy. It’s really heartwarming to see him putting in that effort.”
Pansy’s expression softened with gratitude. “Exactly. It’s those little things that make me realize how much he cares. It’s like he’s genuinely trying to make our relationship special.”
Aurora nodded, her eyes filled with encouragement. “I’m really happy for you both. It sounds like he’s making a real effort, and it’s lovely to see you so happy.”
Just then, Fred’s voice called out from the other side of the room. “Oi, are you two gossiping over there or just plotting world domination?”
Pansy leaned in slightly, her tone light and mischievous. “We were just discussing my new bottle of perfume,” she said with a grin, making sure her response was both informative for Fred and vague enough to keep the specifics between herself and Aurora.
Fred raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Oh, really? And what’s so special about this perfume that it warrants a top-secret discussion?”
Pansy shrugged, feigning innocence. “Just a little something to keep things interesting. You know, a bit of holiday magic.”
Fred chuckled and shook his head. “Well, as long as it keeps you smelling as lovely as you do now, I’m all for it.”
Pansy’s cheeks flushed slightly at Fred’s compliment, and she winked at him playfully. “You flatterer.”
As breakfast wound down and people began to gather their coats and bid their farewells, the atmosphere in the apartment began to shift from lively celebration to a more serene, cozy vibe.
With the room slowly emptying and the echoes of the morning’s laughter fading, Aurora and Oliver were left in a peaceful quiet. They exchanged contented smiles, the warmth from the festive breakfast and the joy of the day still lingering between them.
Aurora began to tidy up the kitchen, her movements relaxed and unhurried. Oliver followed her, offering to help with the dishes, though she waved him off with a playful insistence that it was her turn to handle it. They worked side by side, the familiarity of their routine adding to the comfort of the morning.
Once the kitchen was clean and the gifts had been put away, Aurora set up the living room for a cozy day in. She arranged a pile of fluffy blankets and plush pillows on the couch, creating a nest of comfort. Oliver, meanwhile, prepared a pot of hot cocoa and set out a selection of holiday treats—gingerbread cookies, peppermint bark, and a few leftover pastries from breakfast.
Aurora picked out a few classic Christmas movies and started them up on the television. The gentle glow from the Christmas lights on the tree, combined with the flickering images on the screen, created a magical atmosphere. She snuggled into the blankets, her heart full as she glanced at Oliver, who had settled next to her with a contented sigh.
“This is perfect,” Aurora murmured, leaning her head on Oliver’s shoulder. “Just us and a quiet Christmas Day.”
Oliver wrapped his arm around her, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric of her sweater. “It really is,” he agreed, his voice warm and filled with affection. “It’s nice to have a day to just enjoy being together.”
As the first movie played softly in the background, they relaxed in their cozy spot on the couch, savoring the simplicity of the moment. The rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving them with nothing but each other and the comfort of their shared space.
As they settled into their cozy spot, Oliver suddenly shifted, standing up with a grin. “I got you something,” he said, his voice filled with a hint of excitement.
Aurora looked up in surprise. “Wait, I didn’t know we were doing gifts outside of Secret Santa. I didn’t get you anything, Oliver.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she realized she had overlooked this detail.
Oliver chuckled softly and walked over to the Christmas tree, where he retrieved a small, elegantly wrapped box. “No, your gifts yesterday were more than enough,” he assured her, his eyes twinkling with affection. “This is something I wanted to get you. It’s not about the quantity but the thought behind it.”
He returned to her side and gently took her hand, guiding her to sit up a bit. With a tender smile, he placed the small box in her lap. Aurora looked at the gift with curiosity, her fingers tracing the delicate wrapping.
Oliver sat beside her, his gaze fixed on her face, watching with a mixture of anticipation and love. “Go ahead, open it.”
Aurora carefully unwrapped the box, her movements slow and deliberate. Inside, she found a dainty silver locket with an intricate design.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, her voice thick with emotion as she looked up at Oliver. “But why a locket?”
Oliver smiled softly, reaching out to gently touch the locket. “I thought it might be nice to have a place to keep a little memory close to your heart. And... there’s something inside.”
Aurora’s fingers trembled slightly as she opened the locket. Inside was a tiny photograph of the two of them, captured in a candid moment of laughter from one of their recent dates. The image was small but perfectly clear, a precious snapshot of their shared happiness.
“Oh, Oliver,” Aurora said, her voice choked with emotion. This is perfect. Thank you.”
He leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss against her forehead. “I’m glad you like it. I wanted to give you something that would remind you of how much you mean to me, every single day.”
Before she knew it, her emotions overwhelmed her, and tears began to spill down her cheeks. “Oliver, I’m sorry,” she said through her tears, her voice trembling. “I know you’re committed to our relationship. It just hurt so much to see your engagement ring from another woman in our space.”
Oliver’s expression softened with deep understanding. He reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands. “Aurora, I know. I’m really sorry about the whole thing. I understand why it hurt, and I wish I could undo that moment.”
He pressed his forehead against hers, his gaze steady and full of sincerity. “But I’ve never doubted us or our future together. You and me, we’re building something real and beautiful, and I want you to know that nothing from my past changes how I feel about you.”
Aurora took a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I want to believe that, Oliver. I do. I just needed to hear it from you.”
Oliver nodded, his eyes filled with unwavering reassurance. “You have my word, Aurora. I’m here for you, and I’m committed to our future. I never want anything to come between us.”
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close into a comforting embrace. Aurora felt the warmth of his love enveloping her, the weight of her worries starting to lift.
As she nestled against him, her tears subsided, replaced by a profound sense of relief. The locket, now a symbol of their enduring connection, rested gently against her chest. She closed her eyes, letting the comfort of Oliver’s presence and his heartfelt words wash over her.
“I’m sorry for letting it get to me,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “I just needed to know we’re okay.”
Oliver kissed the top of her head, his touch tender. “We’re more than okay. We’re better than ever. I’m grateful for every moment with you, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
They held each other for a long while, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. The Christmas movies played on in the background, a soft hum of festive cheer that matched the peaceful rhythm of their embrace. Aurora and Oliver found solace in each other's arms, their love reaffirmed, and their bond strengthened as they continued to build their life together.
The next day, Oliver bought a new bedframe, mattress, and bedding.