164: Christmas Eve

Laird’s POV Nothing had changed. Year after year, my father would host a Christmas Eve party, inviting a few colleagues and close neighbors. The line of cars along the street in front of our house confirmed that the party had long since started and guests were arriving just as my father had hoped. I tightened my coat and cleared my throat. My steps led me to the house across from ours. Not for the party, but to persuade and reassure my girlfriend that I still loved her. The green and red wreath on the white door hung neatly. In contrast to my house, the Baxter home looked quiet. There was no commotion, no line of cars in front of the house, and no staff walking back and forth serving guests with drinks or coats. I pressed the doorbell once. The chime sounded faintly from inside the house. It didn’t take long before someone opened the door. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Baxter,” I said with a wide smile. “Oh, Laird! Merry Christmas!” The woman immediately hugged me tightly with a cheerful laug