This short story from NELL STARK and TRINITY TAM features Valentine

and Alexa from everafter, before they were turned. Book two in the

series, nevermore, was released in 2010. Nell Stark is also the author

of the romances Running With the Wind and Homecoming. Spread the

infection at www.everafterseries.com.

• 38 •

THE TWELVE DAYS OF COURTSHIP

NELL STARK AND TRINITY TAM

1 Alexa

I first met Valentine Darrow on the Monday after Thanksgiving.

If it had been up to me, I wouldn’t have gone out at all that night—

the semester was officially in its death throes, and I was overwhelmed

by case studies and exam preparations. But it was Nicole’s “quarter of

a century” birthday, and there was simply no way to plead out of the

festivities. And so it was that I found myself in the Niagara at just past

one in the morning, having been charged to order a round of lemon

drops.

At first, I thought the bartender was the most attractive man I

had ever seen. But when I realized my mistake, my purely aesthetic

appreciation became something far more primal. After almost ten years

of being out, I knew what attraction felt like. That was not this. This—

the electric shock that coursed down my spine, the dry mouth, the moist

palms—was desire. I wanted the woman behind the bar with a blazing

intensity that was as unexpected as it was sudden. I wanted to grip the

biceps that leapt into sharp relief as she shook a cocktail, and I wanted

her slender fingers to dip between the buttons of my shirt and trace the

skin beneath. I wanted her at my mercy, and I wanted her above me.

I wanted her. I didn’t even know her name.

And I certainly couldn’t order drinks from her, feeling like this. I

leaned one shoulder against the wall and took a few deep breaths. What

was going on with me? I’d stopped drinking over an hour ago and felt

completely sober. Was this my body’s way of telling me that my current

dry spell had gone on too long? My last relationship had ended before

• 39 •

BREATHLESS

the semester began, and I’d been too concerned about my classes to

date casually. Clearly, I needed to carve out some time for a social life

that didn’t revolve around my straight friends.

After a few more breaths, I dared to return my gaze to the

bartender, feeling reasonably sure I could hold a conversation with her

without making a fool out of myself. As I watched, she raised her head

and surveyed the crowd for thirsty patrons. When her eyes met mine,

she froze.

With her appreciative stare, my confidence returned and the

paralysis that had anchored me to the wall dissolved. I moved forward

until I could prop my forearms on the bar and glanced at the nametag

pinned to her tank top, just above her left breast. Valentine. The name

suited her—feminine, yet striking.

And then I realized I was blatantly cruising her. A flush rose to my

cheeks, chasing away the chill of the wintry night.

“Valentine.” Her eyes were as blue as a robin’s egg. I fished my

credit card out of my leather pants. “Seven lemon drops, please. And

one Coke.”

Her fingertips slid over mine as she took the plastic—a deliberate

move, I knew, but my breath hitched nonetheless. Had she noticed?

“Would you like me to keep it open?” she asked over her shoulder,

granting me a vision of taut muscles and a slim waist as she gathered

her ingredients.

“Yes, please.”

She poured the Coke first, and I sipped at it gratefully. As she lined

up the shot glasses, a grin rose to her full lips. “I don’t trust a woman

who doesn’t drink.”

I arched one eyebrow, determined to keep my composure in the

face of her cockiness. “Why is that?”

“Not indulging in a simple vice implies that you’re saving yourself

for something much more extravagant.”

I laughed at her presumption. “It’s obvious you don’t know me.”

She paused, vodka bottle poised above the row of shots. “I’d like

that to change. Let me take you out to dinner. Tomorrow.”

For a moment, I was in danger of saying yes. Valentine the

Bartender was beautiful and confident and I enjoyed the way she looked

at me. But what could we possibly have in common? Besides, I wasn’t

• 40 •

The Twelve Days of Courtship

about to indulge myself when the specter of final exams loomed on the

horizon.

“You’re very smooth. But no, thank you.”

“All right.” Her shrug was nonchalant, her smile pleasant. The

warm feeling in my stomach soured. Whatever chemistry I’d felt

between us was nothing special to her. Valentine was obviously a

player.

I couldn’t help but watch the grace of her slender fingers as she

arranged the glasses on a small tray, but petulance at her easy dismissal

overruled my attraction. I deserved someone who would cherish me—

someone who could both excite me and match my intellect. Valentine

mixed drinks in a neighborhood bar on the Lower East Side. She

probably took home a different woman every day. I’d been crazy to

even contemplate her offer.

“Thank you,” I said coolly.

“Enjoy your night.” She turned back to the register, leaving me

relieved. And aroused. And frustrated.

But at least I had escaped unscathed.

2 Valentine

I found the right classroom in Vanderbilt Hall with ten minutes to

spare. After poking my head inside the door to make sure she hadn’t yet

arrived, I leaned back against the corridor wall to wait.

Alexa Newland. If she hadn’t paid with a credit card, tracking her

down would have been much more difficult. As it was, all I’d had to do

was make enough idle chat with one of her friends to discover that she

was a law student, and then make a late-night call to a friend of mine

who was working part-time at the registrar’s office. And just like that, I

had a copy of Alexa Newland’s class schedule.

Shifting the hot cup of coffee from my left hand to my right, I

surveyed the passersby. I wanted to see her before she noticed me.

Technically, this probably qualified as stalking, but I wasn’t trying to

be creepy. I just needed to talk to her again. She had written me off last

night, and I was going to prove to her that she shouldn’t have been so

hasty.

• 41 •

BREATHLESS

As the minutes passed, my pulse actually started to race. I might

have been back in high school all over again, nursing my first crush on

another girl. In the intervening years, I’d never had to pursue women;

they had sought me out, and I’d been happy to be found. Alexa was

different. We hadn’t spoken for more than two minutes, but something

about her called me to the quest.

I looked right again, then left. And there she was, approaching the

classroom briskly, glancing down at her watch as she walked. She wore

charcoal slacks and a dark green blazer over a cream-colored silk shirt.

I glanced down at my worn jeans and scruffy leather jacket and wished

I’d gone for upscale instead of rugged.

“Good morning.” I pushed off the wall when she was just a few

feet away. Her eyes widened, black eclipsing the emerald irises that had

captivated me last night, and a blush bloomed over her cheeks.

“Valentine? But what are you…” Her surprise became suspicion.

“How did you find me?”

“Ah, that.” I flashed her as charming a smile as I could muster on

three hours of sleep. “I looked up your class schedule.”

“How?”

“I can’t reveal my sources,” I said, holding up one hand when she

looked like she wanted to steamroll right over me. “But my purpose

isn’t nefarious, I promise. I just wanted to offer you some caffeine,

since you were up late last night and this class is early.”

She moved forward until she was close enough to touch, and my

fingertips itched with the urge to tuck a stray lock of crimson hair behind

her left ear. She looked from the cup to me, then shook her head.

“I gave up coffee in college. Excuse me.”

Without another word, she breezed past me and into the

classroom.

3 Alexa

The next morning, I returned to Vanderbilt Hall with a mix of

trepidation and anticipation swirling in my stomach. Would Valentine

be there again? Or had I succeeded in blowing her off?

In all honesty, I hoped I hadn’t. Late to class, caught by surprise,

• 42 •

The Twelve Days of Courtship

and blindsided by the same visceral desire that had beset me on Monday

night, I’d been less than polite. Cold, even. Now I wanted another

chance.

Thankfully, when I rounded the corner she was leaning against

the wall next to the amphitheater door and holding a Starbucks drink

tray. Yesterday, sporting a worn leather jacket that clung to her broad

shoulders and framed her slim torso, she had looked every inch the hot

bartender. Today, dressed in khakis and an orange wool sweater, she

looked insouciantly preppy. She smiled when she saw me, a slow and

easy smile that made me want to twine my fingers in the front of her

shirt and—

Fantastic. Now I was blushing again.

“Hi,” I said, clutching my bag as though it would help me regain

my inner balance.

“Good morning.” She proffered the tray. “How do you feel about

chai lattes? I brought one made with soy, one with skim, and one with

two-percent. Just in case.”

“You went to a lot of effort.” I moved closer. “Tell me, what does

my taking one of these drinks entail?”

“It’s pretty easy,” she said, a teasing lilt to her voice. “All you

have to do is grab whichever one you like best, and then I’ll know what

to bring you tomorrow.”

“And that’s it?” Where, I wondered, was the second request for a

date? How long would she be content to ply me with caffeine before

asking for something in return?

“That’s it.”

I reached for the soy latte. “Will the leftovers be used in other

attempted seductions?”

A flash of hurt crossed her face so quickly that I wasn’t sure I’d

even seen it. In another moment, she was leaning in close to put her

mouth level with my ear. “This is not a seduction,” she murmured. “Not

yet, anyway.”

And then she brushed past me to toss the tray into a nearby

garbage can. The wordless rebuke stung.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That was an ungrateful thing to say.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Valentine’s gaze slid up my body

slowly—a deliberate once-over that she wanted me to notice. “You’re

• 43 •

BREATHLESS

a beautiful woman, Alexa. I’m sure you get plenty of unwanted

attention.”

I foundered, not knowing how to reply. Despite myself, I wanted

her attention. And I was pretty sure she knew it.

“Well…thanks for the chai,” I said lamely.

She tapped the side of her head. “Soy. I’ll remember. See you

tomorrow.”

In three long strides, she was around the corner, leaving me

anticipating tomorrow before today had even really started.

4 Valentine

On Thursday, Alexa was waiting for me, despite the fact that I’d

arrived twenty minutes before her class began. She was dressed as

impeccably as ever, in black slacks and a silver turtleneck sweater that

hugged her breasts and the subtle curves of her waist.

“What took you so long?” She extended her hand expectantly,

a grin playing around the corners of her mouth at my obvious

consternation. Before this moment, I’d been in charge of our little

encounters. Now I felt ambushed.

I kind of liked it.

“Um, hi,” I said, handing over her drink.

“So, here’s how this is going to work from now on,” she announced.

“Whenever I ask you a question, you are obliged to answer. For every

question I ask, you can ask one in return. But I reserve the right not to

say anything.”

“That hardly seems fair. Is that your best offer, Counselor?”

She crossed her arms over her breasts and fixed me with a steely

stare. “Take it or leave it.”

“Okay, okay. Deal.”

“First question. What is your last name?”

“Darrow.” I said it as matter-of-factly as I could, hoping that she

wouldn’t make the connection to my father. That was a conversation for

later in our courtship.

She held out her right hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Valentine

Darrow.”

• 44 •

The Twelve Days of Courtship

I indulged myself by brushing my thumb over her knuckles as I

slid my palm against hers. “Likewise, Alexa Newland.”

All too soon, she pulled away. “Now that we’ve been properly

introduced, your turn.”

There was so much I wanted to know, but I felt certain she

wouldn’t answer most of my burning questions. So I started with

something innocuous. “Where are you from?”

“Eau Claire, Wisconsin.” The words sounded like a challenge, and

I wondered why she was defensive about her hometown. But when I

opened my mouth to ask, she shook her head. “Obey the rules. Second

question. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“What makes you think I’m not grown up already?”

Her eyes narrowed to green slits. “That was a question, Valentine.

You don’t get to ask one until you answer mine, remember?”

I liked the way she said my name, and the assertive edge to her

words was making my throat dry. “Psychiatrist,” I said, wondering if

she could detect the rasp in my voice. “I have a master’s in counseling

psych already, and I’m going to take the MCAT in a few weeks.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and I leapt at the opportunity. “My

turn. Tell me what you thought I was going to say.”

Instead, she looked down at her watch. The blush had returned to

dust her cheekbones. “I need to get to class.”

I wanted to protest, but she had made the rules and I’d agreed

to them. Whatever it took to hold her interest. Besides, her obvious

chagrin partially answered my question; she’d underestimated me and

was feeling more than a little ashamed of putting me in a box. That

could only work to my advantage.

“All right.” I took a step backward so I wouldn’t reach out and

touch her. It was too soon for that. “Until tomorrow, then.”

5 Alexa

I flat-out ran from the bus stop to the entrance of Vanderbilt. The

bus had been late, and now I only had five minutes to get to class.

When Valentine saw me approaching, her frown gave way to a smile

of relief.

• 45 •

BREATHLESS

“What happened?”

I let my fingertips brush hers as I took the cup of chai. “I get to ask

the questions first, remember?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

I’d thought long and hard about what to ask next, but the

nervousness of her movements prompted a different query. “Were you

worried about me?”

“Yes, of course! I have an overactive imagination, and I kept—”

She cut herself off, suddenly abashed. “Worried. Yes.”

I had to smile at her quick, uncalculated response. “Everything is

fine. Just a late bus.”

“Okay. Good.” She rocked back and forth on her heels. “So. My

turn. Just in case something like this happens again, can I have your

phone number?”

My first inclination was to give in. My second was to keep playing

hard to get. Fortunately, there was a way to compromise.

“No. But give me yours.”

She was rattling off the final digits when Nicole, who always

breezed into class precisely on time, approached. I could sense the

rabid curiosity in her from across the hall.

“I have to go. Thanks for this.” I raised the cup in one hand and

grasped Nicole’s arm with the other to tug her into the lecture hall

before she could say a word.

“Lexie,” she singsonged as soon as we were inside. “Who was

that?”

There was no use in trying to evade her interrogation. Besides, I

was in need of a confidante; this kind of persistent seduction was far

beyond my experience. Nic would be able to advise me on how I should

approach the next step. Valentine wasn’t going to keep bringing me free

lattes indefinitely, after all.

“Her name is Valentine Darrow,” I said as we slid into our seats.

“She was tending bar at the Niagara on Monday.”

Nicole grabbed my arm in a grip Superman would have envied.

“That was Valentine Darrow?”

“Yes. Do you know her?”

Nic dramatically thrust both hands into her perfect hair. “You can

be so dense sometimes!” she hissed. “Think about it—how do you

know that last name?”

• 46 •

The Twelve Days of Courtship

I racked my brains, feeling like an idiot. It wasn’t easy to keep

up with the Who’s Who of New York, especially when Nicole’s guilty

pleasure was socialite gossip, but I did my best to know just enough

that I wouldn’t be labeled an ignorant Wisconsin farm girl.

“The only other Darrow I can think of is the Secretary of the

Treasury,” I finally said, exasperated. “Edward Darrow.”

“Who got his start in the city, of course, and just so happens to

have a daughter named Valentine.” Nicole sat back in her seat, looking

pleased with herself as I grappled with my surprise. Valentine’s father

was a Cabinet member?

“I had no idea. What do you know about her?”

“She’s a lesbian,” said Nicole.

I swallowed a laugh. “Yes, I gathered that.”

“She’s into you.”

“Nic.” I gave her my best serious look. “You did not hear that

through the rumor mill.”

“Oh, sweetie.” She squeezed my shoulder lightly as the professor

stepped up to the podium. “All I had to do was watch her watching you

for five hot seconds.”

6, 7 Valentine

The weekend was taunting me. I’d wanted to sleep in after a long

night’s work at the bar, but my internal alarm clock had woken me at

seven o’clock in the morning. Just in time to make it to Alexa’s class,

chai in hand…if it hadn’t been Saturday. Tired but restless, I’d been

unable to fall back to sleep.

Now I stood at a festive street corner across from Central Park

South, waiting to meet a friend for brunch. A cacophony of Christmas

music blared from nearby storefronts, but I found that for once, I didn’t

mind. The holidays hadn’t felt festive to me for a long time, ever since

my coming out had provoked the ire of my entire extended family.

For the past several years, Christmas had meant protracted meals with

aunts and uncles who ignored me and cousins who never stopped

taking verbal potshots. But now, the music and lights and window

displays made me think of Alexa. I found myself wondering whether

she would go back to Wisconsin for winter break, and what kinds of

• 47 •

BREATHLESS

oddball traditions her family had, and what little thing I could give to

her that might make her laugh.

Later that evening, by the time my shift at the Niagara was

halfway over, I still hadn’t come up with an idea. I had, however, been

propositioned twice—once by an attractive Mrs. Robinson type who

claimed I made the best dirty vodka martini she’d ever tasted, and once

by a punk kid with purple hair who asked me out as I was in the process

of handing her over to the bouncer for trying to use a fake ID.

When I turned back to the bar, Alexa was standing at my end. She

cradled a half-empty glass of wine in her right hand, and I paused to

appreciate how the deep red of her hair was mirrored by the shade of

the liquid.

“You’ve been here for a while,” I accused, gesturing to her drink.

“I’ve been lurking in the shadows.” Her gaze was warm on my

skin, like a caress. “Watching you work. Watching other women desire

you.”

“Have you, now.” The possessive note in her voice thrilled me, but

I kept my tone light. “Did you notice me turning them down, too?”

“Yes. Why did you?”

I decided to lay it all out on the line. “Because I don’t want them.

I want you.”

She set her glass down, but not before I saw it tremble. My words

had affected her. Good.

“What makes you so persistent?”

I leaned on the bar, putting mere inches between my lips and hers.

“I’m just keeping my eye on the prize.”

Her gaze dropped to my mouth, then back to my eyes, and I gripped

the marble to keep myself from leaning in and stealing a kiss. “When

you’re done with your wine,” I said, “let me make you a cocktail. On

the house.”

But she shook her head. “I need to go home. Lots of studying to

do tomorrow, and I should get started early.”

“You don’t slow down, do you?” Her intensity struck a chord in

me. Could she feel it, too—the beginnings of a connection that went far

beyond mere attraction? Or was it all in my head?

“I imagine I take it easy just as often as you do,” she challenged.

We shared a conspiratorial smile then. And I knew I was right

about this. About us.

• 48 •

The Twelve Days of Courtship

8 Alexa

Valentine’s entire demeanor brightened when she saw me. Her

enthusiasm was addictive, and I felt myself smile. It seemed impossible

that I had written her off just one week ago for some kind of cad.

“Good morning.” She presented the paper cup to me with a

flourish. “How did your studying go yesterday?”

“Not so fast. My question first, remember?”

“New week, new rules?” She sounded so hopeful.

“Not a chance.” I sipped from my chai as I decided how to phrase

the question that had been killing my concentration all weekend.

“Nicole recognized your name when I told her on Friday. Why haven’t

you ever mentioned your father? Or the rest of your family?”

The light went out of her, then, as if I’d flicked a switch. “I don’t

get along with them,” she said stiffly. “We have extreme differences of

opinion when it comes to politics, as you can imagine.”

“Okay.” I kept my voice soft, regretting my impulse to prod. “I’m

sorry if I reopened an old wound.”

She waved away my apology. “It’s nothing.” Her gaze turned

speculative. “Do you mind if I ask about your family?”

“Oh, there’s not much to tell.” I struggled not to feel self-conscious

as I revealed my humble upbringing. “I’m the middle child of five, we

grew up on a farm in western Wisconsin, and they have no idea why I

escaped to New York at the first opportunity. But they love me, and they

don’t have any bias against my sexuality.”

Valentine nodded, and I was happy to see the hint of a smile return

to her face. “I’d like to know more about them.”

“Tomorrow.” On impulse, I took her hand and squeezed it briefly.

Her fingers were so warm. “See you then.”

9 Valentine

The next morning, Alexa caught me daydreaming. One minute, I

was visualizing a cheery Christmas scene chez Newland—featuring a

large fireplace, comfortable couches, and a brightly decorated tree—

and the next, she was plucking the cup from my grasp.

• 49 •

BREATHLESS

“What were you just thinking of?” she said as she pulled off her

gloves and blew on the tips of her fingers.

I couldn’t resist; I gently gripped her wrist and let my own warm

breath cascade over her skin. A shiver ran through her, but I pretended

not to notice. “I was just picturing what your childhood Christmases

must have been like. Will you go back for winter break?”

“No.” She stuttered on the monosyllable. “I’ll stay here to work on

summer internship applications.”

I began to massage her palm, very lightly, and was rewarded

with a tiny gasp. “I bet you’re applying to all kinds of prestigious

opportunities, aren’t you?”

A single nod. “You’re breaking the rules,” she said when she

found her voice.

I leaned in close and brushed my lips against her cheek. “That,”

I murmured, “is because I’m officially beginning my seduction of you

today.”

She trembled. I could have kissed her properly; she would have let

me. But it would have been too soon. And I had to get this right.

10 Alexa

How had a simple kiss on the cheek succeeding in distracting me

for twenty-four consecutive hours? Resolved not to let Valentine get

the upper hand so easily today, I turned the corner briskly…only to find

an unfamiliar, dark-suited man in her place. He held a small envelope

in one hand and a cup in the other.

“Alexa Newland?”

“Yes?”

“Ms. Darrow regrets that she is unable to meet you this morning,”

the man said. “She asked that I pass these along.” After handing over

the chai and the missive, he bade me a “good day” and left.

I opened the envelope slowly, both excited and apprehensive about

its contents. What obligation had called Valentine away so suddenly

that she hadn’t been able to let me know about it beforehand? Or was

she deliberately keeping her distance for some reason?

The card inside had my first name printed on the front. I opened it

to find Come to dinner with me written on the inner left page. The other

• 50 •

The Twelve Days of Courtship

side read Friday night. Out of habit, I flipped the card all the way over.

Say yes was printed on the back.

“Yes,” I whispered.

But since she wasn’t there to hear me, I was going to make her

wait.

11 Valentine

“I’m so sorry about yesterday.” I hurried forward as soon as Alexa

rounded the corner. Anxiety about her state of mind had kept me up half

the night. At first glance, she seemed more curious and concerned than

angry, but I couldn’t yet read her expressions with confidence. “My

father ambushed me into making an appearance for him. I don’t care

what he’s the secretary of, he shouldn’t be able to rope me into service

at the spur of the moment whenever he fucking feels like it!”

Realizing that I was ranting, I took a deep breath and handed over

the chai. “Sorry. Did you get the card?”

“Yes.” She closed the distance between us and reached up to adjust

the collar of my shirt. Even that brief touch made my heart pound.

“And?”

“And yes.”

I blinked down at her. There was a tenderness to her smile, as

though she recognized my emotional fragility. “Yes? To tomorrow?”

“Yes. That’s my answer.” She turned toward the door to her class.

“I want to hear all about how your father dragged you away from me,

but over dinner. Pick me up at eight o’clock?”

I took her free hand in mine and twirled her like a ballroom dancer,

right there in the hallway. She blushed, of course, but her laugh was

genuine.

12 Alexa

The phone rang just as I finished zipping up my dress, and I looked

down to see Nicole’s photograph. “I’m putting you on speaker,” I said

by way of greeting, “while I do my makeup.” I had only ten minutes

until Valentine arrived.

• 51 •

BREATHLESS

“Lexie! You must tell me what you’re wearing.”

I picked up my eyeliner. “The strapless one.”

“Oh my God, I knew you would. She’s not going to be able to

keep her hands off you!”

Leaning in toward the mirror, I inspected my work. I always

received compliments on my green eyes, but the liner made them stand

out even more. Good. “I’m not going to sleep with her on the first date,

Nic.” No matter how much I wanted to.

“So you say. But this is Valentine Darrow we’re talking about.

She’s used to getting what she wants. And I know you’ve thought about

it.”

The memory of Valentine as I’d seen her that morning popped

into my head—slouching in jeans and a gray hoodie against the wall,

cupping my drink in both hands as if to absorb its caffeine through the

paper. Her hair was still tousled and her eyelids were at half-mast, and

I had been nearly overwhelmed by the desire to drag her right back into

the bed she had clearly just rolled out of.

I felt my cheeks grow warm and raised the mascara brush, gripping

it like a weapon. I had to keep my wits about me tonight. “I’m not

interested in becoming a notch on someone’s bedpost.”

“The woman has pursued you for weeks,” Nicole protested.

“She’s just fascinated because I’m not swooning all over her like

the usual suspects.” I didn’t really believe that, but I needed to say

the words out loud. I was at serious risk of falling for Valentine after

only two weeks, and I couldn’t afford to drop my guard before our first

date.

Nicole ignored my rationalization. “I’m dying to know where

you’ll be eating. Text me when you get to the restaurant. My God, she

could be taking you anywhere: Per Se, maybe, or even Jean Georges!”

I took a step back from the mirror and smoothed the dress over

my hips, feeling butterflies stir in my stomach. Nic was right. Valentine

probably had the keys to this entire city. I paused, lipstick poised half

an inch from my mouth, suddenly wondering whether she thought my

change of heart might have to do with her father’s money.

And then the doorbell rang.

“Good-bye, Nicole.” Heart pounding, I forced myself to focus.

Lipstick. Shoes. The bell rang again. I grabbed my purse from the

• 52 •

The Twelve Days of Courtship

dresser and locked the door behind me with unsteady hands, then

descended the stairs as quickly as I could manage.

I opened the door. She stood before me in a pinstripe suit, her

golden hair a spiked halo. I caught the faint scent of cologne as she

offered me a single, dusky pink orchid. Behind her, the holiday lights

of a nearby storefront twinkled merrily.

And deep inside I knew that for this Christmas and all the ones

after, she would be mine, and I hers.

• 53 •