My hand stops a few inches from the door handle. Hesitation… for the second time. Only four weeks ago, I found myself standing frozen in this same spot, wondering whether I was having a stroke as I breathed in the nauseating lavender scent of the nearby bowl filled with whatever-the-hell smells like lavender. However, this time the cream-colored walls and fluorescent lighting don’t repulse me. Instead, they seem to fill me with a sense of nostalgia, reminding me of the other times I set foot in this building. My first session was shortly after my return home, after I’d proposed to Lucy but before we were married. I was ordered to attend a total of six sessions, each two weeks apart, and four of those six had taken place in this very office. The fifth was in the hospital with Lucy, and now… I hesitate before the same door for my sixth and final session. Well, I don’t want to give Doc a reason to harangue me on my last day. I take a deep breath and swing the door open, meeting Susan’s usual craning glance and smile as I enter. “Good afternoon, Mr. Mous!” Her greeting is just as cheery as ever, her pleasant smile punctuating her words with sincerity. “Dr. Fitzgerald is ready for you!” “Thanks, Susan.” Her serpentine neck allows her diplodocus head to come into close proximity with me as I make my way past her, her smile literally following me towards my destination. I give her one more polite nod as I make my way into the office, feeling a twinge of sadness that this is potentially the last time I’ll be greeted by her. As I pass through the door to my psychiatrist’s office, he offers an especially beaming grin in my direction. “Anon, it’s good to see you!” I smile back at him, genuinely at first, then with a bit of added shit-eating. “You’re just being polite to butter me up to the notion of continuing these therapy sessions in perpetuity, aren’t you?” Dr. Fitzgerald lets out a chuckle as he shakes my hand, causing me to blink in surprise; I think it’s the first time he’s ever audibly laughed around me. “Well, let’s discuss that at the end of today’s chat.” We both take our usual positions, he with pen and paper in his familiar cross-legged stance on his chair, and I on the chaise longue. I don’t recline, opting to simply sit and face the tyrannosaurus as he begins jotting down his final set of notes for our meeting. He glances up at me from his notepad. “So, how are you feeling today?” I fold my hands in my lap as I gather my thoughts, unable to stymie the grin that works its way across my face. “To be honest, Doc… things have never been better.” He extends me another smile before scribbling more notes down. “I’ve been really happy, and everything at home is wonderful. Lucy was… rather, we were able to reconnect with our old friends again.” This prompts Dr. Fitzgerald to flip several pages back in his notebook. “Ah, I recall you mentioning that last month. You were concerned that Lucy had lost touch with her friends and was struggling to make new ones.” I nod. “Yeah, and that’s all resolved now. We restored our friendships with everyone we spent a lot of time with back in high school, mended the bridges that had collapsed after prom. Lucy has been incredible; she has improved so much more than I could have possibly hoped… and I owe a debt of gratitude to you, Dr. Fitzgerald.” He blinks, taken aback by my usage of his actual title instead of an informal nickname before nodding. “I’m happy that I was able to help, but you shouldn’t leave yourself uncredited. You’ve put an immense amount of effort towards strengthening your wife, and she did the same for you. That’s what a strong, loving and lasting couple does.” His words make me pause and think for a moment. “Hmm… strange. You reminded me of a dream I had not too long ago.” I scratch my chin as I try to recall the particulars. “It was about Weston… but it wasn’t a nightmare like I usually had. Instead, we just… talked.” “Oh? What about?” I chuckle. “I guess I just sorta told him the stuff I wish I could tell him today. About me and Lucy, and about the progress she’s made. He said something a lot like what you just said, telling me to not sell myself short.” I cross my arms. “It was odd. I know a dream is just your unconscious brain sorting out extra information, but… it didn’t feel like I was talking to a part of my own mind. It felt different somehow. Like I was actually talking to Weston.” Dr. Fitzgerald doesn’t verbally respond, opting to jot down more notes as he urges me to continue with his eyes. I do so. “There was something else about the meeting, too. He… tried to hand me one of his feathers, but I rejected it.” I give my psychiatrist a small shrug. “You don’t happen to moonlight as a dream interpreter, do you, Doc?” He smiles before responding. “Dreams are a funny business. I’m not one to put too much stake in them, as you are correct with your point about dreams often being a sort of ‘dumping ground’ of superfluous information. However, I do not believe that they are worthless, and it is certainly possible for one’s unconscious mind to pick up on things we may not consciously be aware of, or try to communicate to us signals or messages that could be relevant to us in our waking state.” He cocks his head slightly. “This feather… do you feel it has any symbolic significance to you?” I let out a sigh. “I mean… maybe. There’s the literal side of it in that one of Weston’s feathers literally drifted down onto my lap after he died, and before I passed out.” I rub my temple. “It’s come up in previous dreams, too. If it isn’t symbolic, it’s at least significant in some way.” Dr. Fitzgerald leans back slightly in his chair. “Yes, I would agree that it is most likely significant. But you mentioned that you rejected the feather in your dream when it was offered to you. Why did you do that?” This causes me to pause and think. “... In the past, when I’d have a dream about the feather, it always ended up in my possession. Sometimes it wasn’t my choice; it’d drift down onto my lap as I sat in the dirt, covered in blood and shredded half to hell before I fell unconscious. Other times… it would be offered to me, and I’d desperately grasp for it until it was in my hands. So why did I reject it this time?” Dr. Fitzgerald ponders this for a moment. “Perhaps accepting or, as you said, desperately grasping for the feather is symbolic of you holding onto your grief, continuing to feel that you were responsible for what happened. During our first sessions together, you never outright admitted it, but I always got a sense that you felt like Weston’s death was somehow your fault.” I shrug. “You had a good bead on me, Doc. I did feel that way.” I don’t say it out loud, but… truthfully, I kind of still do. “In that case, rejecting the feather could have been you overcoming that notion, letting go of the guilt and understanding that it wasn’t your fault.” I nod at his words as I consider them, but he continues. “You must also see the parallels between this and the situation with you and your wife.” I cock my head. “What do you mean?” He flips back several pages in his notebook. “When you were describing Weston’s physical traits, you said he was a male pterodactyl with feathered wings. Uncommon, yes, but also coincidental in that his wings were virtually the same shade as Lucy’s. You made mention of it when we all sat together in the hospital last session.” He glances at me, noticing the completely lost expression on my face before continuing. “If we’re exploring symbolism within these dreams of yours, one could posit that the feather represents your wife’s struggles.” Lucy’s struggles… could the feather in my dreams represent those, too? It’s certainly true that I spent too much of my effort trying to solve her problems for her… I constantly pushed her before she was ready to take the necessary steps towards improving herself, and I met with Reed and Trish behind her back. This only led to everything backfiring in horrific fashion. I thank God she came out of the whole situation alive, but I learned my lesson about trying to do everything myself in just about the hardest way possible. I shake my head, letting out an annoyed scoff. “Heh… when we met a month ago, I told you that I wasn’t going to try to solve anyone’s problems for them… and I immediately went to work trying to fix Lucy’s problems behind her back. Guess that makes me a liar.” Dr. Fitzgerald gives me a reassuring smile. “I don’t think you’re a liar, Anon. You’re a loving husband. It’s a very natural, very male response to try to fix the problems of your spouse. We love and support our wives, but sometimes… we go a little too far in trying to take everything into our own hands.” I raise an eyebrow in his direction. “Are you telling me something relating to you and Mrs. Fitzgerald, Doc?” He grins. “That is beyond the scope of our meeting, young man.” We both chuckle. “Trust me, Anon. You’re not the only person who has misstepped in the course of a relationship. But the important part is that you and Lucy are both better people now; you’ve learned from your mistakes, you’ve grown and bettered yourselves, and the bond between you has strengthened all the more for it.” “... Thanks, Doc. I appreciate it.” I scratch my chin, noticing the slow rotation of the hands on my watch as I consider. “So… if the feather meant anything relating to Lucy… it’d be her struggles that she needed to overcome herself. Me trying to take the feather was me trying to solve her problems for her. Instead… I needed to let her find the answer herself.” Dr. Fitzgerald nods approvingly as he scribbles a few more notes down. “I think that’s a very good way to interpret it.” As his pen scratches across the paper, I cock my head slightly. “Y’know, Doc. I never thought to ask, but what have you been writing down across these sessions?” He raises an eyebrow to an impressive height, once again proving to be a contender in a one-on-one bout against Dwayne “The Stone” Johnstone. “This may come as a surprise to you, but this is my notebook. I take notes in it.” I roll my eyes. “Oh, I see you’ve been saving all your piss-taking for our last session together. These coulda been a lot more fun if you were bullshitting with me the whole way through. No, Doctor Diploma-On-The-Wall, I meant… what have you been writing about… me?” He draws in a contemplative breath as he glances from me back down to his notebook. “Well… I don’t typically divulge what I write about my patients with them… but it’s not exactly confidential. I could share some of my notes with you, if you’d like.” I give an innocent shrug, doing little to hide the curiosity that gnaws at me. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind. A little retrospection for our last session, maybe. Plus I’ll finally get to know what you really think about me.” A small flit of his eyebrows informs me that I may have just bitten off more than I can chew, but Dr. Fitzgerald flips back to the first page of his small notebook dedicated to me and to our sessions together. He clears his throat before he begins reading. “Anon Mous, human male, age 21. Sessions required as part of post-military contract due to potential trauma.” He gives me a brief glance before continuing. “Aloof. Belligerent. Sarcastic. Crass. Does not take session seriously. Called session ‘a waste of time and taxpayer money’.” I can’t help but let out a chuckle. “Geez, Doc! I expected brutality but you went straight for a ‘Fatality’!” He shrugs. “You told me to read what I wrote, and that’s what I observed of you when we first met.” He finishes reading his first excerpt. “Mention of recurring nightmares. Alluded to loss of fellow soldier and friend. Telltale signs of post-traumatic stress disorder.” He stops and looks back up at me. “The rest is regarding the prescription I wrote for you. Speaking of-” I wave a hand. “I won’t be needing any more of those pills. Not only was I not really taking them… well, they led to what happened with Lucy.” “Then consider yourself officially weaned. I would always rather have a patient not need medication than become dependent on it.” He frowns at me. “However, I’m not terribly pleased to hear that you weren’t taking them…” “Sorry about that. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, I should have just told you in our second session that I didn’t like them or need them. It was stupid on my part.” I sense the next question he’s about to ask. “The rest were disposed of. I had Lucy’s mother take care of that immediately.” Dr. Fitzgerald lets out a small sigh of relief. “Good. And I’m sorry it happened, too. At least we know it was an accident, and, from the sound of things, one that is unlikely to occur again.” I nod. “After everything, I feel like Lucy is in the best place she’s been in for a very long time. Her smile seems brighter, her laugh seems more genuine… everything about her feels right. I see that light in her again that I saw in high school, when we were at our best.” “And how about you?” “I haven’t felt this good in ages. Sleeping great, haven’t had a nightmare in… well, since I was in the hospital with her. And every day I spend with her is better than the one that came before.” A warm smile tugs at the sides of my mouth. “She’s made so much progress… and I guess I have, too.” I notice Dr. Fitzgerald flips his notebook back to the current session’s page and moves his pen across its surface once more. “Heh… hopefully you’re writing some nicer notes about me today?” He finishes his etching before looking up at me. “I’m writing my final notes about you today. I think we can safely call this our last session together.” He glances at the notebook. “I only read the first session’s notes to you, but you have been steadily improving with each of our meetings. I made those observations about you at first, but today… I see a man who is nightmare-free, honest and genuine, and most importantly, happy.” I find myself slightly taken aback. “... Wait. Aren’t you supposed to upsell me here? What about our sessions extending in perpetuity? I didn’t think people in therapy were ever cured.” Dr. Fitzgerald looks down his snout at me with disapproval. “Anon, I do wish you were a little less harsh on my field of work. We’re not all bad. And, well, I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say you are cured. Mental health is often a lifelong journey, and there will likely be times when some of your past traumas come up again. Based on what I’m observing now, in combination with my observations from our past five sessions together, I’m comfortable suggesting that you do not continue receiving this therapy at this time. However, if you ever do feel like you need some help again, my door will always be open for you.” We both rise from our seats and approach one another to shake hands, perhaps for the last time. “I really appreciate it, Dr. Fitzgerald. Despite my, uhh… prickly behavior in our early sessions, I’ve really gotten a lot from our times together. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” He gives a polite nod. “Thank you for being willing to put in the work to improve yourself and to help your wife on the path of improvement, too. I’m certain you two have a happy future ahead of you.” As he leads me over to the door, he cocks his head. “Oh, I didn’t even think to ask! Seeing as tomorrow is Thanksgiving, do you and your family or newly-rediscovered friends have any plans together?” “Ah, nothing with the friends this time. We just got everything rekindled so recently; most of them had already made plans with their own families. Lucy and I will be spending the day with her folks, and her brother is coming into town for the extended weekend, too. We’re planning on having a big reunion party around Christmas, though.” Dr. Fitzgerald displays his impressive teeth in a wide grin. “I’m glad to hear that, and I hope everything continues going well for you. Thanks again, Anon, and I wish you the best of luck!” I shake his hand once more. “You too, Dr. Fitzgerald. Take care.” I make my way out of his office and past Susan, wishing her a good evening, and step into the parking lot towards my car. I look down at my wristwatch; we ended a few minutes early, but that’s perfectly fine with me. If I’ve got a clean bill of health, that’s all that matters. I hate to admit it, though… I’ll miss my chats with the good doctor. He’s a kind person, and these sessions really did a lot for me. Well, if I ever need help again in the future, I’ll know who to call. As I escape the chilly air into my slightly warmer car’s interior, I slide the key into the ignition and fire up the engine. Before I back out of the spot, I pause for a moment. Today has been a good day… I think it calls for a little celebration. Going to dinner someplace with Lucy sounds splendid. I tap the car’s touchscreen, bringing up the familiar saved contact info of my beautiful wife. With a final press, the dial tone sounds through my car’s speakers, and after a moment her voice appears. “Hello?” “Hey, honey. Did you have a good day at work?” “Uh, yeah. I did. Um, are you done with your appointment?” I sense some apprehension in her voice. “... Yeah, I’m done. Is everything okay?” “Yeah! Yeah, everything is… um, you should come home.” “Oh. Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go to dinner somewhere-” “Let’s talk about that here. Come home, please.” “Lucy, you’re not exactly convincing me that everything is okay.” “... Something came in the mail today. For you. You should open it.” I scrunch my nose involuntarily. I wasn’t expecting anything in the mail. What would it be that’s got her so worked up? I speak up again. “Err… who is it from?” “Anon, please. You need to open it.” I relent. “Alright, alright. I’ll be home as soon as I can. See you in a few minutes.” “Okay. I love you, Anon.” “I love you too, Lucy.” The line disconnects. What on earth… and why was she being so cryptic? Is it something from Naser? Or something to do with Trish and Reed? I’ve got no clue what’s going on, but I’ve got my destination set. I try to drive safely, though I push a little past the speed limit in a few spots where I know the police rarely set up speed traps. I’m not a lead foot by any means, but I do want to get home as soon as possible to figure out what’s going on. I arrive home about two minutes earlier than I normally would have; good luck with green lights helped more than my slight speeding. As I open the front door, Lucy is standing expectantly in the living room, her hands held behind her back. Before I can say anything, she speaks up first. “You… should probably sit down.” Raising an eyebrow, I step over to the couch and take a seat. She mirrors the maneuver, sitting next to me but still concealing this mystery mail behind her back. “Alright, Lucy. What in the world is-” “I didn’t open it… but… I recognized the last name.” … She brings the small package out of its concealment. The ordinary brown wrapping is only slightly larger than a standard white envelope. I tentatively reach forward, accepting it from her hands as she carefully watches me. I turn it over, seeing the shipping label and… My breath catches in my throat. The return address is foreign to me, coming from some town I’ve never heard of from the other side of the country, but… just like Lucy, I recognize the last name: Isaac and Natalie Weston I try to reach towards the end of the parcel to open it, but my hands are trembling too fiercely to manage the task. I feel Lucy slide herself next to me, wrapping a wing over my shoulders as her hands gently rest on top of mine. “It’s okay, Anon. Take your time.” I take a slow, calming breath and wait for my heart rate to lower. After a few moments, I manage to secure my fingers around the edges of the package to gently tear it open. Two items slide out when I tip the package on its side: two sheets of lined paper neatly folded upon themselves to fit in the envelope… and another item, thin and roughly the size of the folded papers but with slightly more weight to it, wrapped in its own small bit of neatly taped packaging. I slowly unfold the lined papers, finding tidy but unfamiliar handwriting in black ink upon its surface. I extend the sheets in my hands, allowing Lucy to follow along as I begin reading the words aloud: Dear Anon Y. Mous, I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Isaac Weston. I am the father of Private First Class Jeremy Weston. It’s a pleasure to get a chance to write to you. My wife and Jeremy’s mother Natalie is here with me as well, and you can be certain she’ll be directing my hand a few times as I write this letter. I let out a small chuckle, imagining trying to conduct a letter to someone from both Lucy and I with her correcting me and telling me to add things as I write. She smiles at me before I continue reading. I apologize for the length of time it took before Natalie and I reached out to you. There were two reasons for the delay. First, it was a very difficult task finding contact information for you through the military. Jeremy wrote home a few times during his deployment and had mentioned your name, but that was all we had. It took quite a few unreturned voicemails and a fair bit of pestering by my persistent wife before we were able to secure a forwarding address to send this package to you. The second reason is… more difficult. As you might understand, it took a long while for Natalie and I to process what happened, and muster up the courage to reopen the wound, if only for long enough to contact you. You see, Jeremy was a somewhat sheltered young man. He didn’t have very many friends growing up, and there was no one besides Natalie and I to see him away when he got on that bus for his deployment. You knew him, and of his condition. It made making friends very difficult for him. That’s why his mother and I were both so delighted to hear about you when he wrote home to us. He wrote very kind words about you, mentioning that you were a human who approached him not to tease or mock him but to get to know him. He described you as a patient and good-hearted man with a sharp sense of humor. He also mentioned you had a woman waiting for you back home; hopefully things worked out between the two of you once your deployment ended. I glance at Lucy, giving her a warm smile which she returns. Her hand gently caresses my arm as I read further. Natalie and I both wanted to say ‘Thank you’ from the bottom of our hearts for being- My voice quavers and hitches. I have to bite my lip to keep from letting out a sob as my eyes had already darted ahead to the next line. Lucy squeezes herself closer to me, tears forming in her own eyes as she does her best to comfort me. I take another deep breath and press on. ... for being there for Jeremy until the end. We understand that you were injured in the same explosion that killed him, which means he got to spend his last moments with his friend. We thank God that you survived and were able to come home again, and we both know that if Jeremy had a choice between this happening to him or to you, he would have volunteered himself to go. He may not have had many friends, but Jeremy was an honorable and loving young man, selfless to a fault and always willing to put others before himself. We know for certain that he holds no resentment towards you, and that he’s in a better place now. I flip over to the second sheet, quickly wiping the tears from my cheeks to prevent them from falling on the paper and staining the ink. Lucy gently rubs my arms as she embraces me, sniffling back her own emotions as I continue. Natalie and I are so proud of Jeremy; for his service to our country, for his sacrifice, and for the man he was. He was a bright light in our lives and we miss him every day, but we know he’s in a place where there is no more pain or suffering or sadness. We take comfort in knowing that we’ll get to see him again someday, and we pray that, hopefully many years down the road, you will be able to see him again, too. Thank you for being there for our son, Anon. You showed him kindness when few others did, and you treated him with respect and dignity. You were a true friend to him in a time of his life when he needed it, and if he were still with us today we’re certain he’d be writing home to us about how much he misses you. Thank you for being his friend. If you would like to write back to us, we’d love to hear from you. If you prefer, we’ve also included our phone number. Please don’t feel pressured to contact us immediately, but both Natalie and I would love to get to know you a bit better. God bless you, Anon. Sincerely, Isaac and Natalie Weston Below their contact information is a postscript. I glance at the other wrapped item that came out of the envelope before reading further. P.S. - Before Jeremy left, his mother insisted on preserving some mementos, in case the worst happened. We felt it right for you to have one, so that you could remember Jeremy in some small way. Please accept this gift from us as a token of his friendship to you. I gently set the letter down on the coffee table and reach for the small, wrapped memento. I don’t notice that I’m holding my breath as I peel back the tape that holds the paper closed, nor do I feel Lucy’s arms and wing still encircling me. I slowly unfold the concealing paper. The moment its contents come into view, I instantly heave out a guttural sob, burying my face in my hands as my emotions overwhelm me and tears stream from my eyes. Lying atop its wrappings, encased in a perfectly clear, thin and rectangular epoxy casing, is a single feather, nearly the same shade as Lucy’s. It rests on my lap as I double over, gritting my teeth and unburdening my sorrow in mournful waves. Memories of Weston flood into my mind; our banter in the mess hall, our laughter at corny jokes, our smiles and waves as we’d pass each other by in the courtyard. I remember the smile he gave me before he died, the smile of genuine kindness and friendship. I weep for the friend that I lost. It takes a moment before my mind registers the arms and wings closed tightly around me. Lucy whispers gently to me that everything is okay and that she is here for me. I feel her own tears falling; she didn’t know Weston, but she understands what he meant to me and the gravity of this moment. She cradles me until I can finally calm myself enough to remove my face from my hands. Upon doing so, her amber eyes meet mine, filled with comfort and love. She gives me a warm smile before glancing down at the feather that rests in my lap. “You were right. His feathers are almost the same shade as mine.” I chuckle before snatching up a handful of tissues from the box on the end table to wipe my face and blow my nose. “Yeah. Like I said, it was a bit distracting when I’d see his wings. But… I didn’t mind being reminded of you when I was overseas.” I shrug. “I just wish I wasn’t being reminded of you when I’d look at my guy friend. Even I admit it was kinda gay.” Lucy balks at me before she swats me with the back of her hand. “Oh my God, Anon!” We both let out a decompressing laugh. I gently pick up the preserved feather, holding it up to the light. The fading afternoon sunbeams that still peek through the blinds pierce its form, sending scintillating silver bands in all directions. “... He would have laughed at that joke, too. He was a good friend. And… I’m glad to have this to remember him by.” Lucy gazes at me with a loving smile before cocking her head at my expression; I can’t help but chuckle to myself and shake my head. “That son of a bitch. He still got his damn feather in my hand in the end.” Lucy is perplexed. “What are you talking about, Anon?” I turn back to her with a smile of my own. “I’ll explain it to you later.” She nods before resting her head against my shoulder. Her wings are still wrapped around me, but she places her hands on my own. “His parents were right: he is in a better place. Maybe you’ll be able to introduce me to him someday, after we’ve had some children and some grandchildren and maybe some great grandchildren, too.” I kiss her forehead. “He would love to meet you, and I’d be honored to introduce you two.” She nuzzles against me and we rest like this for a few moments, simply gazing at the ballet of the setting sun across the feather’s ripples. As I lower the feather and place it on the coffee table next to the letter, Lucy leans her head up to meet my eyes. “I know this has been a lot for you… but were you still interested in getting some dinner with me?” My eyes shift from the feather to the number scrawled near the end of the letter. “Yes. But I want to make a phone call first. I want to talk to Isaac and Natalie about their son… about my friend.” — One month later — Seated on the edge of the bed, I absent-mindedly glance at the blank spot on my wrist where my watch would normally rest, seeing only the cuff of my green dress shirt. Unfortunately, the small, somewhat antiquated device had finally given up the ghost, and since it didn’t hold any sentimental value to me I decided against getting it repaired. When Lucy found out that it had broken, she offered to get me a replacement for Christmas. I told her that’d be lovely, so long as it’s not one of those stupid smart watches. I want something I don’t have to charge every night… my cell phone’s already enough of that nonsense, thank you very much. Well, maybe she’ll give me that new watch tonight. It is Christmas Eve, after all, and we decided to do a gift exchange with the family and everyone else who came over for our party. Samantha and Ripley were quite annoyed that we insisted on hosting the party in our home instead of theirs, but since this is not only our first Christmas as a married couple but also the first Christmas we get to spend with our high school friends, we wanted to hold the festivities here. Of course, Samantha insisted that she still cook for the event, and not Lucy, Raptor Jesus nor I would be able to convince her otherwise. As I lean back on my arms, I glance over at the end table situated on my side of the bed. Only a small bedside lamp and my phone’s charge cable rest on its surface, but my attention turns to the slide-out drawer on its face. Pulling it open, a small smile crosses my lips. I withdraw the feather that once belonged to Weston, forever preserved in its sealed epoxy home. I slowly turn the rectangular shape in my hand, watching the glow from the ceiling light slink along its fine barbs. The sight of it fills me with nostalgia and a twinge of sadness. I was able to speak to both of his parents on that day when their letter arrived. We were all quite emotional for a while, but I got a chance to introduce myself and speak to them about their son. I shared with them several stories of our antics, many of which made them laugh so hard the audio across the line would cut out momentarily as their phone struggled to properly capture and transfer the sound. They shared a few things with me as well about Jeremy, mostly his high school shenanigans. I also got to introduce them to Lucy who stayed by my side for the entire call, calmly letting me spill my guts to them until I brought her up and let her speak to them for a few minutes. I was a little embarrassed that I had sidelined her, but she was patient and understanding. Both Isaac and Natalie were delighted to meet her and to know that the woman waiting for me back home was the one I ended up marrying. We chatted with them for over an hour before our stomachs started audibly grumbling for sustenance. I also realized a bit late in the conversation that they were three hours ahead of us, so our dinnertime was closer to their bedtime. They were still incredibly grateful for the call and asked for us to keep in touch, which we have done. I called them again in December and got to catch up some more, learning a bit more about the two of them in the process. They spoke very little about themselves when I first called, preferring to keep the discussion centered around Jeremy, but I was happy to get to know the two of them better during our second call. Isaac works as a foreman at a steel mill on the east coast, and Natalie holds a government job, performing clerical duties for their town’s utility departments. They’re both around the same age as Ripley and Samantha, and I expressed that I think the two sets of parents would really get along well if they ever met. I don’t notice Lucy enter the room as I continue daydreaming, holding the feather in my hand and staring at it with the same smile I began with. I jump slightly as she takes a seat next to me and places a hand on my knee. She smiles at me. “Why are you hiding in the bedroom? The party’s out there!” I shrug. “Came in to change my shoes, those other dress shoes of mine need new inserts. Kinda got lost in my own thoughts for a minute, I guess.” She lets out a gentle hum as she leans her head against my shoulder. She has always been beautiful, but tonight she is positively radiant, her eyes more vibrant and full of color than I’ve ever seen before. She perpetually wears a gentle smile and has been stealing small glances at me throughout the evening. She’s obviously elated that we’ve finally been able to have a gathering with all our old friends again. After setting the feather back in the drawer and sliding it shut, I turn to Lucy, taking her hands in mine. I give her a quick kiss, causing her smile to widen and her cheeks to flush a deep red. “We shouldn’t keep our guests waiting. What kind of hosts would we be?” She giggles. “You’re right, Mr. Romantic. Let’s get back out there.” Her eyes remain locked to mine for a moment longer; I notice her wings flutter slightly. Must be that party excitement. I stand from the side of the bed with her and we return to the party. As the bedroom door opens, the voices of our friends and family echo through the house. It’s the noisiest our home has been since we moved in by a longshot with everyone’s chatter and laughter filling the air. Also filling the air is the savory smell of roast turkey and vegetables, another venerable feast being prepared by Samantha. Lucy quickly circles around to the kitchen to begin assisting her mother again, but not before catching some flak from Reed. “What were you two lovebirds up to in there?” His sly grin and half-lidded eyes follow Lucy as she hurries away. I simply roll my eyes as I plop onto one of the few empty folding chairs. Reed bounces Patty up and down in his lap as she giggles ceaselessly, adorned in an adorable red and green outfit to suit the spirit of the season. “Oh, Reed, you estúpido! They were not doing anything naughty!” The now-significantly thinner Rosa glances at the trifecta of baby carriers surrounding her, one of which holds a much smaller, much newer baby ankylosaur by the name of Isabella who sleeps peacefully despite the noisy home surrounding her. Rosa gave birth to Isabella only a few days after the party we attended; she sent us a Faceboop video of the little bundle of joy as soon as she was able to talk Ramón through how to operate the phone’s camera. She flits her eyes in my direction once more with a playful look comparable to Reed’s. “Though… you are starting to lag behind. At this rate, even Stella will be making babies before you and Lucy!” Stella, who was mid-sip from her red plastic cup full of cola, sputters and chokes as Rosa’s “innocent” comment hangs in the air. Bill, positioned next to his girlfriend, immediately begins stammering out objections to such a notion as his face cycles between various shades of red. Of course, this only leads to everyone else laughing at their expense. As she regains her composure, Stella immediately pouts. “Stop it, guuuuys!” She quickly conceals her own flushing face with her hands. I come to her rescue. “Don’t worry about it, Stella. You and Bill got a long way to go before those sorts of discussions happen. Although, when you do get there, I happen to know a pretty good doctor you can consult…” I shoot a smarmy look in Naser’s direction. He returns my look with a blank one of his own. “... Someone from the viability clinic you and Lucy went to?” I roll my eyes. “Nice no-sell, dingus. I was talking about you.” He scrunches his snout for a second before his eyes widen. “... Oh! OH! You- wait, I’m not a doctor yet! I still have a lot more schooling to do!” Trish decides to pile on. “Is that so? Considering how much you were boasting about your grades earlier, we all assumed you already ran your own hospital.” This brings another round of laughter forth as Naser scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. A shape shifts forward from a recliner, a figure that seemed to be invisible with how motionless it had remained. Ripley comes to the defense of his son. “With how much we’re shelling out for that schooling of yours, you’d better be crushing it with those grades, young man.” Naser’s cheeks redden slightly. “Y-yeah! I’ll keep doing my best, pops!” Ripley lets out a little puff of air from his nostrils before reclining back again. Despite his annoyed expression, he gives Naser a subtle wink before returning to his beer. Gotta keep appearances up around the young folks, I suppose. Trish clears her throat to get everyone’s attention. “I do have a little announcement to make, actually! Lucy, I want you to hear this, too!” Lucy pokes her head in from the kitchen as everyone else leans forward a bit. Trish glances at Reed with a big smile before turning to us again. “... Reed got promoted!” What follows is a combination of congratulations and annoyed grunts. I can’t help but notice Lucy’s beak hang open for a moment before she ducks back into the kitchen, her cheeks reddening slightly. Confused by the mixed reactions, she glances around at everyone, focusing on Rosa for explanation. Rosa provides it. “Ayyy, I thought you were going to tell us you were pregnant!” At this, Reed snorts loudly while Trish crosses her arms with an indignant look. “WHAT?! I am NOT! We’ve got our hands full with Patty, thank you very much!” The baby tricera-raptor turns in Trish’s direction at mention of her name, giving her mother a wide smile. Rosa merely shrugs, wearing a smug look of superiority. “Not every woman can handle so much joy in their lives!” She gazes lovingly at her quiet husband, missing the exaggerated eye-roll that Trish performs. I turn to Reed. “Anyway, you were promoted? I remember you saying that place wouldn’t run without you… I guess they finally recognized your talents?” He shakes his head. “Nah. Chase left. Little bugger couldn’t handle the stress, nearly keeled over from it. I guess he got transferred to a slower branch out in the boonies.” He shifts his focus over to Trish. “However, that’s not exactly the big news from our front, is it?” She fidgets slightly at his words, but he presses on. “The owner of the salon that Trish works at is considering selling it to her!” This makes everyone audibly gasp and cheer. Trish’s cheeks redden as she waves her hands in front of her. “She’s considering it! Considering! We still don’t know if-” Her deflection is drowned out by everyone’s adulation and congratulations. She gives up trying to defend herself, opting to smile and thank everyone for being supportive. “Alright, everyone! Dinner’s ready!” Samantha’s dainty voice reverberates across the house, letting everyone know it’s time to put our conversation on pause for a moment as we gather plates. As the party shuffles into the limited kitchen and dining room space, Ripley loudly clears his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “I know not everyone here is religious, but I do feel that, given the occasion and the impending holiday, we should say grace before eating.” I begin to bow my head along with everyone else, politely waiting for Ripley to begin, but he does not. Instead, I feel his hand clap on my shoulder. “You’re the man of this house, Anon. It should be you who does the honors tonight.” I’m caught off guard by being put on the spot, glancing around to see the supportive smiles of all of my friends and family. Lucy gives me an especially loving smile, silently urging me to go for it with her eyes. I sheepishly scratch the back of my head. “Uhh… I can’t say I’ve ever done this before…” Ripley gives me a wink. “Give it your best shot. It’s hard to mess up.” With a gulp, I bow my head, noting that everyone else follows my lead. I briefly consider starting with something snarky or silly, but quickly shed the thought. I take a deep breath and say a prayer. “... Lord, thank you for this meal we’re about to enjoy, and for the company we get to share during this time. Thank you for helping us all to rekindle our friendships and reconnect with one another so that we could all be here today. Please bless us and watch over us as we eat together and open gifts together, and keep everyone safe when they travel home. Thank you for the many blessings you’ve given us, and those you still have in store. In Raptor Jesus’s name…” Everyone else echoes the final, conclusive word: “Amen.” As I lift my head, Ripley gives me an approving nod as Samantha wipes a tear away from her eye. I don’t think my prayer was quite that moving, but… mom’s gonna mom. Lucy steps across the space to my side and takes my hand in hers. “Wonderful job, Anon.” I try to smile at her but I’m quickly interrupted by Reed lightly punching me in the arm. “Yeah, great job, deacon! When can we expect your first church to be founded?” I give him a punch back. “Of course, if anyone was gonna give me crap for it, it’d be you.” We both chuckle and get in line, but not before I turn back to Lucy and give her a quick kiss. “Thanks, honey. I hope it wasn’t too corny.” She blushes again, averting her eyes. “Not at all. It… really made me happy. Thank you.” I jab a thumb in Ripley’s direction, his form now looming over the both of us as he waits behind us in line. “It was his idea.” He shoots me a grin. “Gotta push you out of your comfort zone sometimes. But well done, my boy. However… I would have maybe included a part thanking the Lord for sending his only son to us on this upcoming holy day.” Stella, positioned in front of us in line, turns to Ripley. “You know, sir, originally Christmas was a pagan holiday that-” Rosa quickly elbows her pagan friend in the side. “Ya cállate, Stella!” At first, Stella is confused, but when she notices Ripey’s narrowing eyes she spins on her heels. Ripley turns to Lucy. “Which one was she, again?” I stifle a laugh as Lucy assuages her father’s apprehension about the friends with whom she’s reconnected. Once again, Samantha has outdone herself, preparing so much food that the kitchen countertops creak and groan under its weight. I struggle to fathom how she even managed to cook this much food logistically within our limited stove and oven space, but she has worked her motherly magic for us all. Everyone piles their plates high before finding places at one of the available seats around the tables. With the folding table and chairs we were able to borrow from Samantha and Ripley, we have just enough room for everyone. We all share small talk and laughter as we enjoy the feast before us. No one is left hungry, with many going back for second helpings. As we conclude our meal, short work is made of clearing the dishes and cleaning everything up. Lucy had the good forethought to pick up paper plates and plastic utensils, so a filled trash bin later and we’re just about all done with the necessary after-meal cleanup. Everyone makes their way to the living room, a few chairs being pulled in from the dining area, and we take a seat around the small, charming Christmas tree Lucy and I set up in the corner. Underneath, a heap of gifts awaits exchanging. I take the mantle of handing out the presents, with everyone receiving a little pile of items tagged with their name. We don’t wait turns to tear away the wrapping paper; the air fills with ooh’s, ahh’s and heart-felt thank you’s as we find trinkets, articles of clothing and sweets within the gifts our friends gave to us. We reach the end of the small celebration of friendship and love, everyone wearing a smile as they once again thank those around them for their kindness. Lucy sends me another beaming smile as she wraps the dark purple wool scarf I got for her around her neck, showing it off to Trish who jealously runs her similarly-colored hand over its surface. I glance down at the small pile of treasures in front of me, letting out a small sigh as I don’t see any remaining package that might hold a watch for my naked wrist. Well, I’m not gonna feel too bad about it; I saved a special gift for Lucy I plan to give her once the party is over. Maybe she did the same with the watch. I notice Trish let out a sigh of her own; Lucy notices it, too, prompting her to ask Trish what’s wrong. She shakes her head, claiming that it’s nothing, but Lucy presses. Begrudgingly, Trish looks up at the both of us. “I… was just thinking that I wish we didn’t wait so long to reconnect. I mean, I didn’t want us to fall out in the first place, but… I just feel like I’ve missed a lot of your lives. We both did. We didn’t even get to be at each other’s weddings.” Silence. Trish glances around, realizing a lull in the conversation had allowed her grievance to be aired to everyone. The others avert their eyes, unable to say something to break the awkward moment. However… their agreement with the sentiment is shared. We all lost a lot of time and a lot of potential memories because of the years we spent apart. Lucy reaches out to Trish, placing her hand on Trish’s arm. “But we fixed that, and we’re friends now and forever. We won’t miss any more opportunities.” A faint smile curls on the sides of Trish’s lips, but her eyes still don’t meet Lucy’s. Suddenly… an idea. A preposterous idea, perhaps but… “... Lucy, you still have your wedding dress.” She looks over at me, slightly confused by my statement. “Why not put it on again? At least let them see what you looked like on our wedding day.” She lets out a gasp, her cheeks reddening slightly. “I… oh, geez. I don’t know if I still fit into that thing.” I cross my arms, giving her a quick top-to-bottom scan. “You’re just as beautiful now as you were then… two and a half months ago. Of course you’ll still fit in it.” She looks ready to scold me, but quickly takes note of everyone else looking towards us in anticipation. Everyone’s eyes are lit up as they await her response. She can’t help but smile. “Alright, I can-” This time, Naser butts in. “How about we do one better? Let’s just have the ceremony again.” More silence. Lucy’s mouth hangs open at her brother’s sudden suggestion, but I silently high-five him. I was going to suggest the same thing, but in true bro fashion he hit that layup. Again, all eyes turn towards Lucy, growing smiles and held breath awaiting her reply. She turns to me, and I give a subtle and loving nod. A smile overtakes her. “Okay! Let’s do it!” Instantly, Samantha springs to her feet and begins organizing the impromptu ceremony, directing furniture be moved, chairs be aligned and a makeshift altar be formed from an end table. Her elation seeps through into her commands, and as everyone’s tasks are underway she shuffles over to Lucy and scoots her towards the bedroom. “Come on, let’s get you into that dress! Anon, you get in there, too!” I can’t help but offer a sarcastic response. “Hey, I’m not supposed to see the bride in her dress before the ceremony! It’s bad luck!” She titters as she pushes me towards the bedroom alongside Lucy, her inherent pterodactyl strength even more shocking than Lucy’s given her petite stature. Once in the bedroom with the door closed, she quickly begins withdrawing the dress from its wrappings within the closet. “Anon, I’m sure you can handle getting yourself into your tuxedo. Lucy’s dress takes a little more finesse.” I remove my wedding tuxedo from its protective bag and begin changing, politely keeping my back turned to Lucy and Samantha. I know she’s my wife and all, but it still feels a little awkward what with her mother in the room… I figure I’ll be polite instead of ogling her as she’s getting dressed up. The excited chatter of our friends makes its way down the hallway. Their preparations are obviously complete so now they’re just waiting for the “bride and groom”. After I finish getting myself put together, Samantha kicks me out of the room, still helping Lucy finish her own preparations. I’m greeted by a round of applause from everyone and can only awkwardly wave to them as my ears quickly light on fire. I hadn’t thought far enough ahead with this hair-brained scheme to realize how embarrassing this would be, but… too late now. “Looking good, Mr. Man of the Hour!” Reed whistles as I walk past him. “Dios mío! You are so handsome, An-on!” Rosa gives me a tremendous smile past Hector and Amelia, one infant effortlessly cradled in each of her arms. Ramón grins at me as he gently rocks their newborn Isabella. “Ohh, I knew you’d look wonderful in a tux! I can’t wait to see Lucy!” Stella bounces up and down in her seat, excitedly awaiting the big moment. Bill gives me a nervous smile; I respond by flitting my eyes towards Stella and giving him a wink, wordlessly letting him know that it’s only a matter of time before he’ll be in my spot with her coming down the aisle. “I gotta admit, you do pull off that look.” Trish tries to give me a cool smile, but I can see the anticipation in her eyes. This whole thing was brought about by her lamenting about not getting to attend our wedding, and now we’re giving the whole thing another go for her behalf as well as everyone else here. Impromptu, yes… but it’ll make a fun and lasting memory. As I arrive at the makeshift altar, Naser stands by with his hands held behind his back, looking as official as he can. Of course, his floral-patterned jacket is nothing like the tux he wore on my wedding day, but given the rapid-fire nature of this event and the fact that his was only a rental, we can’t complain. He gives me a nod as I approach. “A lot easier the second time, huh?” I laugh. “I’m much less nervous, that’s for sure.” I extend my hand his way, and he accepts it in a handshake. “Thanks for suggesting this. I was kinda thinking the same thing, but you beat me to the punch.” “What can I say? I know you pretty well now. Plus I figured Lucy could use the extra encouragement. I know how much she wanted her friends at your wedding. Now we can correct that.” I smile warmly at him. “Thank you, Naser. You’re a good brother… to her, and to me.” He returns the smile, getting a little misty-eyed at my sentimentality. We don’t get to share the moment for too long, however, as Samantha steps out from the bedroom and up to the “altar”. She waves Ripley down the hall and he obeys his wife, stepping into the bedroom. There’s no formal procession or music to accompany the moment, but we know what’s coming next. The bedroom door opens once more, and everyone stands to turn and face it. Ripley walks arm in arm with his daughter, her magnificent white dress flowing behind her. Its lace comes together in perfect layers, with the frills of the dress overlapping much like the feathers on her wings. The ruby set into the choker around her neck sparkles in the hallway light, while the veil atop her crest hangs in front of her face. Our guests gasp at the beauty of the dress and the woman wearing it, but much like the day when I first saw her in it I can only smile. And like that day, her eyes are only on me. The walk from the bedroom to the living room is much shorter, and she holds a small bouquet of fake flowers that Samantha plucked from a small vase by our doorway, but everything else about the scene is picture perfect to our wedding day. As she arrives at the altar, I lift the veil in front of her face, greeted by her beautiful smile and adoring eyes. Ripley quickly circles around to transition from “father” to “pastor”, clearing his throat and doing his best to conduct a makeshift ceremony. “Ahem! Uhh, yes. Friends, family, we are gathered here today to join these two souls in holy matrimony! Yeah, something like that, right?” Everyone chuckles except for Samantha who stares daggers at her husband. He shrugs at her. “I don’t know what I’m doing! Ahh… okay, uhh, Naser. Do you have the ring?” I pause, looking down at Lucy’s finger. Whoops. She tries to stifle a laugh but can’t keep it in and everyone else joins suit. Even Samantha giggles as she shakes her head. I quickly slip the ring off of Lucy’s finger and hand it to Naser. He holds it for a moment, then extends it right back out to me. I accept it and slide it on Lucy’s finger again, eliciting another round of laughs. Ripley nods in approval. “Okay, perfect! Now, uhh… did you two want to share your vows? If you have ‘em on you, that is. Otherwise we can-” I cut him off. “I remember mine. I could never forget them.” Lucy nods. “Me, too.” I clear my throat, gazing into Lucy’s eyes. They sparkle just as vibrantly as they did on that day. Her hands rest in mine as I speak my vows to her again. “Lucy Aaron, when you first met me I was an awkward teenager. I was aimless, cynical, and didn’t want to meet anyone or do anything with my life. Somehow, the two of us got to know each other. Then we became friends. Eventually, we grew even closer. I don’t know how, but you saw something in me that I didn’t know was there, and you brought that part of me out. You were kind to me, you loved me and you gave me the honor of loving you in return. I had to spend three years away from you as I served our country, but I never stopped loving you. I held onto the hope that your feelings for me wouldn’t fade with my absence from your life… and I thank God that they didn’t. You wrote to me, you spoke to me on the phone, and you stayed true to me. Now that I’m back home, I never want to be anywhere but by your side for the rest of my life. You are everything I want in this world, and I will always love you.” Lucy briefly removes a hand from mine to wipe away at the tears on her cheeks. From the corner of my eye, I notice a box of tissues being passed around as sniffles permeate the air. I wasn’t trying to be sappy, but hey. That’s how I felt. How I still feel. Lucy takes a deep breath and meets my gaze once more before she begins. “Anon Mous, I have to admit that when I first laid eyes on you on the steps leading up to our school, I didn’t think much of you. A bald human teenager in a dorky green jacket… I figured you were just another person not worth the air. Another face in a sea of faces, blank and meaningless. But then… you started talking to me. I was annoyed at first, but I couldn’t find it in me to just tell you off. You definitely got on my nerves, sometimes badly, but I always found myself wanting to patch things up with you. You were different… you treated me differently than anyone else had in my life. You looked past the rigid, bitter mask that I wore and saw me for who I was. You cared for me when I was hurting. You were patient with me when I lashed out. You were honest with me when I needed honesty in my life. You were everything I didn’t know I needed in a person… and God saw fit to bless me by allowing you to love me in return. I never thought that anyone would love me in this way, but that dorky human who I didn’t think was worth my time stole my heart and returned it with his own. Now, I don’t want to spend even a single day apart from you ever again. I love you, Anon, and I will always be yours.” If my vows got people emotional before, they are absolutely devastated now as the audible sobs of the women in the room surround us. Trish, Rosa and Stella each hold handfuls of tissues as they vocalize how touched they are by Lucy’s words. Even the men, try as they might to be stoic, get misty-eyed at the display. Ripley manages to mostly keep his composure, having been through this ceremony once before, but still gives a quick sniffle before he concludes our honorary wedding. “Ah, well! In that case, by the power vested in me by absolutely nobody… I now pronounce you husband and wife! … Still. You’re still husband and wife. Go ahead and kiss, you two.” His informal delivery makes everyone chuckle, but I oblige his request, pulling Lucy into a loving kiss. Surrounded by the cheers and applause of our friends and family, I find myself filled with a perfect bliss for the second time in my life. The woman of my dreams, in my arms, committing herself to me forever, and I committing myself to her forever. I will always love you, Lucy. As our lips part and we turn to our friends, they immediately rush forward, throwing their arms around Lucy and I. Trish is bawling her eyes out, gushing incomprehensible words towards Lucy. Reed claps his free hand on my shoulder, the other holding his daughter. “Thanks for doing this, man. This was really special, and it means a lot to Trish and I.” I give Reed a hug, being careful to not smush Patty between us. “Thanks, bro. I’m glad we got to do this, too.” Rosa and Stella both get their chances to embrace Lucy and I, showering us with praise for how beautiful our vows were. I glance at Stella, then at Lucy’s bouquet. “Hey, Lucy. You wanna huck that thing over your shoulder for Stella to catch?” Stella’s cheeks immediately brighten. “Anon, stooop!” I chuckle as I turn to Bill and wink at him again. His cheeks similarly brighten. Hey, they’re the only unmarried couple here. It’s our God-given right to tease them about this. After everyone offers their congratulations, we decide to start packing it in for the evening. Everyone pitches in with straightening up, rearranging our makeshift chapel back into a living room while Lucy and I head to the bedroom to switch back into our normal attire. As we change, she shoots me occasional glances, but when I return them she quickly averts her eyes, her face brightening and her smile betraying her feelings. She’s so beautiful. We make our way back out to the living space as everyone is getting packed up and ready to head out. They collect their coats, their gifts and their children, when applicable, before beginning to say goodbye and offer holiday wishes to everyone else. We wish our friends and our family a merry Christmas as they head out to their cars. Samantha, Ripley and Naser are the last to leave, giving hugs and kisses before they depart and confirming our plans for a family get-together tomorrow. Naser stumbles out the door with armfuls of folding chairs, insisting that he can manage the load by himself. Of course, the moment the front door closes behind him we hear the telltale clatter of an overburdened brother accidentally unburdening himself, followed swiftly by the chastisement of his father. Lucy and I both chuckle; that’s our family. Standing together in the now empty home, I feel a twinge of loneliness. They only just left, but I already miss the company provided to us tonight. I think for a moment about the fact that, without Lucy’s strength and willpower to overcome her tribulations, we wouldn’t have had this at all. Sure, we would spend Christmas with her parents and Naser, but that would be all. We wouldn’t have Rosa and Ramón along with their three kids. We wouldn’t have Stella and Bill. We wouldn’t have Trish, Reed or Patty… our friends and their families would still be figments of our past. I take Lucy’s hands in my own. She gazes at me, waiting for me to speak, but I don’t. I simply look into her eyes, their brilliant amber hue glowing with the hope of a bright, wonderful future. Her diamond-shaped pupils focus on nothing else but me, communicating her boundless love for me the same way my gaze communicates my love for her. I bring her into a kiss. It is one of many, but one that shares the same meaning as every other we have ever shared, and every kiss we will share from now and forevermore. Our lips part and I meet her eyes again. Her cheeks are bright red and her breathing is unsteady, but I sense a steeled resolve in her. Her voice quakes slightly as she speaks. “Anon, can you wait for me in the living room? I have something to give you.” I smile at her and nod, thanking my lucky stars that I hid her gift in the top of the entryway closet. I knew she was holding out on me, so I’m gonna use the opportunity to give her the special present I got for her. What a perfect end to a perfect Christmas celebration! She hurries to the bedroom; as soon as she’s out of eyesight I quickly pull open the closet and fetch the small wrapped parcel from its hiding spot. Moving over to the couch, I take a seat, keeping the gift concealed behind my back. After a moment, she returns, similarly holding her hand behind her back. Her cheeks are positively burning red, but her eyes lock to mine. I offer a reassuring smile; I want to see her look this nervous for as long as possible. After all, this is our first time giving each other a special present on Christmas together. She opens her mouth to speak but I quickly cut her off. “I got something for you, too, sweetie.” Her mouth hangs open as I bring her present out from behind my back and hand it to her. She doesn’t take it at first, seeming to look at me with disbelief. However, she snaps out of her daze and gently accepts the gift, smiling calmly at me as she pulls the ribbon away and unfastens the tape sealing the paper together. Inside, a small square box conceals one more layer of mystery. She slowly slides the lid of the box upwards, gasping as its contents come into view. “I saw it in the store and it made me think of you. It’s amber… like your eyes.” Her hand shakes as she withdraws the silver-encircled oval, its thin chain dangling over the back of her hand. Her eyes well up as she runs her thumb across its surface. “Anon… it’s beautiful. I love it. Thank you!” In an instant, she throws her arms around me, squeezing me tightly. I return her embrace; as we part, I take the necklace from her hand and fasten it around her neck. As I hoped, it looks absolutely perfect on her, a beautiful accent for the most beautiful woman in the world. She gives me a radiant smile before her eyes widen. Again, her cheeks flush red and her breathing intensifies. “I… I… this is for you…” With a quivering hand, she withdraws the slender gift from behind her own back. I accept the wrapped box, an extended rectangular shape that looks just about long and wide enough to house a new wristwatch. I give her a loving smile. “I think I know what this is…” Her eyes widen further and she gasps. Not… quite the reaction I had expected, but I know she’s excited about our gifts for each other. I tear open the wrapping paper, finding a thin, long, rectangular white box within. I smile at her once more before popping the lid of the box open. … Inside the box is not a wristwatch, as I had anticipated. Instead… a strange, white object, about the length of a pen. At one end, a narrowed bit with a sort of cap on it, and the rest… plain white. I withdraw the object. I turn over the object. I see a small window… housing two thin, pink lines. … I… “... Lucy…” “... Yeah?” “... Is…” “Yeah?” “... Is this…” “Yeah!” I finally pull my gaze away from it to look back up at Lucy. Her breathing is so heavy it borders on gasps. Tears are already pouring from her eyes. I find no coherent words in the moment. I can only emit a cry of pure bliss as I pull Lucy into the tightest embrace I’ve ever held her in. She expels all the air she’d been holding in her lungs as she waited for me to grasp the moment, sobbing joyfully in my arms. Her wings cocoon us, sealing us in the moment together. “Oh… oh my God… oh my God… you’re…” “Yes!” “We did it… Lucy, we did it!” “Anon, I love you!” We kiss, not as lovers or as newlyweds, but as two souls who are joined by a third, a new strand weaving itself into the eternal bonds that tie our hearts together. “I love you so much, Lucy. I love you.” “I’ll always love you, Anon.” I can’t believe it. We’re going to be parents. Lucy is finally going to be a mommy. I’m… I’m gonna be a daddy.