Victoria doesn’t think it’s humanely possible for her life to get any better than it is right now. She’s got you—her absolutely breathtaking wife—curled up next to her and Zoe on the couch after a day filled with festive holiday events.

To start the morning off at exactly four A.M. when Zoe came bursting in your shared bedroom, you opened gifts with her, then later in the afternoon, you went out with her in the snow when Vicky got swamped with work, insisted on making dinner, and even made fucking dessert with hot chocolate afterwards.

Seriously, how could she ask for more? Who could possibly need more than that? She certainly didn’t.

Zoe’s already fast asleep on the other end of the couch, considering it was stretching into later hours of the night, her head lying on your lap. Victoria hums softly, absentmindedly stroking the top of your head as she shifts her gaze from the Christmas movie playing on television to you. “She loves you, you know.” She smiles, keeping her voice low as to not disrupt her daughter’s sleep.