I had to swallow. I’d seen holiday lights every season, but they hadn’t been mine in so very long that I’d forgotten about the magic, the fluttery feeling as something so familiar became something so precious and beautiful. The house looked…hopeful. I’d put hours and hours into this place, but in all that work, I’d never had an ounce of sentiment, never tried to assign it a personality. But now here it was, stretching skyward, each white bulb a tiny lighthouse waiting to chase away the darkness and welcome someone home. Home. A word I tried never to dwell on. And this fucking hurt, the
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