Page 79 of Lighting Up Christmas
“I can do that,” Zhang said. “I haven’t in the past. I let my mom control me until I could escape. I was in a relationship with Brin but let her do all the work, and when I wasn’t happy, I shut down. I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to live a differentlife, but I know it’s going to take work for both of us. You may have to lift a few rocks on occasion to pull me out of my cave.”
She laughed and flexed her bicep. “Good thing I’m strong.”
“Good thing you’re you.”
He could look into her green and brown and gray eyes for the rest of his life. They never looked the same. They changed in the light and with what she wore and with the emotions and the moods storming through her.
“It will sound overly dramatic, but I feel you have brought me to life in a more expansive way,” he said softly. “I thought about what you said about calling my mother, and I did. She and my grandfather are coming for a visit late spring.”
“That’s fantastic,” Riley breathed.
“Yes. You forced me to have the courage to reach out, and I hope to forgive. I can’t wait for him to meet you.”
The sparkle in her eyes was impossible to misunderstand, and he breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief.
“This is when we kiss,” she whispered.
Zhang laughed. She touched his mouth. “I hope I can always make you smile and laugh a little each day.”
He kissed her, decisively. He meant it to be one kiss. A statement. But Riley was so warmly responsive that he lost himself in the moment. He had no idea how much time had passed, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shiny and her lips swollen when they pressed their foreheads together, panting a little.
“Better than I ever dreamed,” she said.
He pulled her into a tight hug, not wanting to let go, not wanting this moment to end, and wanting to say something that would keep her by his side, keep her wanting to give him not just a chance but more if he needed them.
“I know we need to make the muffins and deliver them and the tamales to your mentees today, and later we were going to put ornaments on your tree.”
“My childhood ornaments.” Riley speared her fingers through his hair and sighed. “And I’m up for that, but really, Zhang, I want to focus on us enjoying the day. It’s ours, and we can create our own traditions together.”
His heart leapt. He’d like that. “I got you something. Well, a couple of somethings, but I want to give you something now. I was going to wait until you invited me to decorate your tree, but…I can’t wait any longer.”
She kissed him again, and he lost himself in the distraction.
“Okay.” This time she pulled away. “You get me the something, and I’ll put the muffins in the oven, or we’ll be competing with Santa to deliver them late tonight.”
“Set the timer.”
Riley laughed and put the first tin of muffins in the oven, and he retrieved the box from his overcoat pocket. His heart pounded, hoping she’d understand, hoping she’d really forgiven him for overreacting about the ice dragon and confusing her about the party invitation with his poorly worded text.
“You’ve given me so much,” he said reverently. “Not just the dragon and vineyard art, but you’ve given me you, and you’ve given me, me. The me I want to be.”
Was he even making sense?
“The night of the Christmas Market when I misunderstood your message about the ice dragon, I was hurt. I’d told myself that I would never let anyone hurt me again, but you did, and it jolted me to life because I knew that I wouldn’t hurt so much if I didn’t feel so strongly about you. Then I saw something that seemed so symbolic of you and how I felt, and then a week later and the party—” He broke off. “Open. You’ll understand better than I can explain.”
Riley undid the red bow carefully and lifted the lid. Her breath caught.
“Zhang,” she whispered carefully, lifting the dark and light green dragon out of the box. She held the dragon to her cheek, and for the first time, he saw the sparkle of what might be tears forming in her beautiful, expressive eyes. “You bought this before you knew I’d bought you the dragon.”
“We were in sync even when we weren’t admitting it to ourselves,” he said.
“You brought me spring in winter,” Riley said, totally getting it. “And we have our first two ornaments together. You brought yours, didn’t you?”
He took his dragon out of his coat pocket, and it curled around his finger.
Riley gently tapped their dragons together. “Spirit dragons,” she breathed reverently. “When I was researching the Lunar New Year, I got so caught up in the mythology of Eastern dragons. So different from the stories in the West, and then when I saw the dragons that the artist was putting on display, it just seemed like a screaming sign. I was so scared and yet so hopeful.”
“You have the heart of a dragon,” he said. “Fierce, loyal, protective.”
“I like that I made the first move,” she said proudly, perching her dragon high on the small live tree she’d purchased.
“I’ve got plenty of moves planned, so don’t get too smug.” He nestled his dragon next to hers.
“That’s right.” Riley smiled. “You have your list. I was hoping you’d show me your next move or your next item. Maybe we can make a competition out of it,” she teased.
“Not exactly a competition”—he pulled her into his arms—“because we both win.”
The End
