Epilogue
Two weeks later…
Ulric growled as he dragged a Christmas tree into the cabin. Stupid traditions. Ilya walked behind him, all sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks.
A lot had changed, but Ulric wasn’t complaining—okay, right now he was, but it was more for show.
If Ilya wanted a Christmas tree, Ulric would get him a Christmas tree, no questions asked. But some grumbling was customary.
Ilya had come by the cabin most days after work, and if he hadn’t, Ulric had gone into the city. Apart from the first time, Ilya hadn’t stayed the night, and it was driving Ulric mad. He needed to hold Ilya, to touch him, to breathe in his scent.
One idea crazier than the other about how to make Ilya stay had swished through his head, but in the end, he did nothing. If Ilya wanted to leave, he’d let
