Snow fell softly on the streets of New York, covering the cobblestones with a silent, white blanket. Christmas lights hung in the shop windows, flickering as if to compete with the brightness of her eyes as she walked beside Michael.

He, in his dark coat and with his hands in his pockets, seemed more relaxed than usual, as if for a moment the weight of his last name didn't exist. It was their first Christmas together, and Michael had insisted on accompanying her to buy gifts, although his voice still held that reserve that made him so different.

But while she spoke excitedly about what to give her relatives, he glanced at her, a half-smile barely visible. Suddenly, he stopped in front of a modest jewelry store and, without saying a word, entered. She followed him, curious. Inside, under the warm light of the shop, Michael asked to see a simple necklace with a small gold pendant.

"For someone special." He said.

She smiled without saying anything, but in that silent gesture, among the glass cabinets and snowflakes, a complicity was born that the December cold could not extinguish.