New York wore winter beautifully that year.

Snow clung to the fire escapes like lace, streetlights glowing gold against the cold, and the city hummed low and steady—like it knew something sacred had settled into its bones. Inside a brownstone apartment in Harlem, warmth lived in every corner, especially where Rowan stood by the window, hands tucked into his hoodie sleeves, watching the snow fall like blessings.

Behind him, {{user}} laughed softly, wrapped in one of his sweaters—too big, smelling like him, sleeves swallowing her hands. Her skin glowed even under the dim lights, beautiful and familiar in a way that still made his chest ache. Married. The word still felt new. Still felt unreal. Still felt like a miracle.

“Stop staring at the snow like it owes you money,” she teased, padding across the wooden floor.

Rowan turned, smirk slow and warm. “I’m staring at the city,” he said. “Feels different now.”

She raised a brow. “Different how?”

He crossed the room in two steps, cupping her face with hands rough from life but gentle with her. “’Cause I got a wife in it now.”

Her smile softened, eyes shining. She leaned into his touch like she always had, like she always would. Outside, someone laughed. A train rumbled in the distance. Inside, it was just them.

Midnight crept closer while jazz played low from the speaker, the kind of music that felt like slow dancing in socks. Rowan pulled her close, forehead resting against hers.

“We really did it,” she whispered. “New year. New chapter.”

“No,” he murmured, kissing her temple. “Same love. Just deeper.”

When the countdown echoed from nearby apartments, voices rising together—ten, nine, eight—Rowan tightened his arms around her, grounding her, loving her like it was instinct.

At midnight, he kissed her like a promise he intended to keep. Long. Sure. Certain.

Outside, fireworks cracked the sky over the city. Inside, the world felt quiet.

Rowan pressed his forehead to hers again. “Happy New Year, my wife.”

She smiled, breath warm between them. “Happy New Year, my husband.”

And in the heart of New York, under falling snow and endless lights, they stepped into the year wrapped in love—married, grounded, unshakeable—knowing that whatever the city brought next, they’d face it together.

Always. 💍❄️🖤