treet glowed beneath strands of golden lights, and the air buzzed with the sounds of carolers, jingling bel

d left her drained, she pushed aside the weariness. Christmas came o

potted the carousel at the center o

re Jack and his son, walking toward them. N

his voice warm as ever. He held tw

glanced down at Emma, who was already tugging Noah toward the

the cups. "Cider? It is my bribe

he warmth seeping through her gl

es and wave at them from the ride. The music from the carousel mingled with the

before," Claire said after a mom

very year with my wife. She passed away three years ago." His voice carried both pai

pen, so soon. But perhaps Christmas, with its bittersweet mix

y, Jack," she

ps me going. He deserves joy. Nights like

her left before she was born. It has always just been t

. "Trust me, Claire. You are more than enough. Em

e opened her mouth to respond, but the carousel slowed, and their childr

?" Emma asked, boun

Dad?" N

ned. "Lea

hem like it had always belonged there. Emma and Noah shared sprinkles on gingerbread men, while Claire and Jack found themselv

g had shifted. It was not just the children's joy or the holiday glow; it was Jack, steady

mall hand into Noah's, and Claire felt Jack's hand brush against

t them more than magic. Maybe, it had b