We agreed to no gifts for Christmas—just a quiet morning with coffee and pancakes. But my husband kept glancing at the tree, clearly expecting something. Guilt ate at me.
When he finally opened the fridge to grab eggs, he froze, then turned around slowly and said, “Why is there a receipt in here for …”
“…a pair of golf clubs?” he finished, holding up the crumpled slip with a confused look. I bit my lip and shrugged, trying to play it cool, but I was caught.He walked toward me, shaking his head slowly but smiling. “You promised.
No gifts. We said just pancakes and quiet.”
I reached for his hand. “I know, but you’ve been eyeing those clubs for months.
You sold your old set to help pay for Emma’s braces. You deserve something nice.”
He looked down at the receipt again. “So, where are they?”
I nodded toward the coat closet.
“Check behind the coats.”
He rushed over and threw the door open. There they were, shiny and sleek, leaning against the wall. He stood there staring at them like they were treasure.
When he turned back to me, his eyes were glassy. “I didn’t even realize how much I missed having a set. You’re something else, Kayla.”
We shared a quiet hug, and for a moment, it felt like that Christmas glow people always talk about in movies.
But just as we were about to return to our pancake mission, he said something I hadn’t expected. “I feel like a jerk now.”
I frowned. “Why?”
He walked over to the living room and grabbed a small, worn envelope from behind the bookshelf.
“Because I got you something too.”
I laughed. “You hypocrite!”
He grinned sheepishly and handed it to me. “Open it.”
Inside was a folded brochure for a weekend writing retreat in Vermont.
It was something I’d mentioned months ago but never thought twice about again. I’d always loved writing, but life got busy—kids, work, bills. “You remembered?” I asked, touched.
“You’ve spent the last ten years making sure everyone else is okay. I thought maybe it was time you got a few days for you.”
I smiled, and we stood there, each holding the other’s gift, both breaking the “no presents” rule we had made. It was funny how love makes you want to give, even when you say you won’t.
We spent the rest of the morning eating fluffy pancakes and laughing about how bad we both were at sticking to our own rules. The day was quiet, warm, and full of little moments that made it special. But we didn’t know what was coming next.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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