Spencer gently knocked on the bedroom door, poking his head in with his hand covering his eyes. A few minutes ago, you had told him you were almost ready, just needing to throw on your outfit. He just wanted to check in, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything before the two of you left.

Penelope was throwing a Christmas party at her place and had instructed everyone to bring festive spirit, an outfit, and nothing else. As with anything involving Penelope, you and Spencer knew she would go all out.

True to form, Spencer had gone out earlier that day after work to grab a bottle of red wine. He hated showing up to events empty-handed—he believed it was a sin, even if it was just a bottle of wine. Thankfully, you shared that sentiment. You’d made a fruitcake to bring along with the wine.

“Hey, honey, it’s almost time to go. I just fed Bossman, so we can leave whenever you're ready.” His voice drifted across the room, soft and tender, as it always was when he spoke to you.

Bossman was your cat—dark as night and undeniably handsome. Spencer had gotten him for you as a kitten on your first Christmas together, and from that moment, you knew he was a keeper. Who in their right mind adopts a cat after just five months in a relationship? The same kind of person who, six months later, would end up moving in together.