Unexpected was the word you'd come up with during your fifth hour of Christmas shopping with Patrick.

You'd thought he'd do his shopping online, from the comfort of his couch, away from the crowds in the department stores and jewelry shops. Or, if you were being more honest, you thought he'd send someone else to do the shopping with him.

But no, now, at five in the evening, you were standing on the sidewalk, lightly dusted in white flakes, exiled from Tiffany as he chose some gifts it was clear you wouldn't be seeing until the 25th.

Sure, it was a surprise, but you couldn't call it a bad one. In fact, it was relieving to see him light up about something. Especially something as sentimental and spirited as the holidays. Patrick Zweig, proponent of the holiday centered around giving and quality time. The tabloids would have their front page news.

But you just stared at your boots, shaking your head softly at the surreal nature of it all. A tiny Saks bag swinging from your fingers. Patrick had been giving the big ones to the driver, obviously. He had to remind you, and perhaps himself, that he wasn't just anyone, after all.

After what seemed like forever, he exits the storefront, arm looping around your waist before passing the moderately sized robin-egg blue bag along to the car's trunk.

You felt his nose press into your neck, warm against your cooled skin from being inside the store. "Ready to go home? I think our tree got here today. Picked up some ornaments while I was inside, too."

Of course he had.