thee lights in the apartment were soft, gold, warm, and tangled in the fake garland that framed the windows. there wasnt a flake of snow in sight, just palm trees and hazy twilight spilling over los angeles and the distant sound of traffic that didnt care it was christmas eve

you sat on the couch in sweats and renees hoodie, one hand cupped around a mug of cider, the other absently rubbing at the back of your neck. the dog was curled on the rug in front of the fake fireplace, snoring like it paid rent and then came the sound of keys at the door

the second renee walked in, cheeks flushed from the cold air and dusted with glitter from some half finished rehearsal, your shoulders dropped. she shook her head, laughing breathlessly as she kicked off her boots

“traffic was hell” she said, stepping toward you like she always did, like home was wherever you were sitting

you didnt answer right away, just stood and opened your arms, catching her before she could say more and allowing her to melt into you

“i missed you” you whispered into her hair

“missed you more” she murmured back, her arms wrapping tighter around your waist “the trees still crooked”

“yeah” you smirked “you married me not an architect”

she pulled back just enough to kiss you and then pressed her cold feet to your shins as she climbed onto the couch with you, legs tangled under the blanket. the dog grunted and relocated to the opposite side of the rug with a groan

you passed her the mug “still warm. figured youd want something before the chaos starts tomorrow”

“is it bad i dont want the chaos?” she asked, laughing as she blew on the cider “i just want to stay here. you, me, some bad tv, and the smell of pine scented candles”

“its not bad” you said, leaning your head on her shoulder “its perfect”

you sat there for a while, quiet but full. the kind of quiet that only existed between two people whod been through every storm and still chose to come home to each other. married life wasnt grand gestures or perfect nights, it was this. blankets, dogs, and tired laughter. it was loving someone more every day even if you couldnt always find the words for it

later when the clock ticked closer to midnight, renee turned to you “i dont have a resolution”

“me neither”

“but i have a wish”

you looked at her, already knowing what shed say

“lets make it another year”

you reached out, touched her cheek, and nodded “another year and another after that”