Where Stars Align

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The door to Ben's parents' house has the cutest wreath with red ribbons and two white doves on it. It's the kind of detail that makes you pause, the kind of thing that tells you you're walking into a real home—not just a house people pass through like most places in New York. This home is lived in, cared for. It feels permanent in a city where nothing else ever is.

"That's so romantic," I say, my fingers brushing the white dove on the wreath, a small, hopeful gesture.

"Yeah, it's a Christian symbol," Ben says, reminding me of his mom's devotion.

I swallow hard. "Gosh, I don't even remember the Ten Commandments," I admit, suddenly feeling a little out of place. "She's going to think I'm a sinful woman. Well, she probably already thinks that." My heart's doing that thing again—racing in my chest like it's trying to break free, pounding so loud I'm convinced Ben can hear it. "Does she know I'm not Christian?"

He squeezes my hand. "Relax. My mom knows everything. Besides, if you're with me, she's not expecting you to be into religion. She knows me well enough."

"I feel like I am too over-dressed," I say, wishing I could go back to the hotel and change for something more proper, but Ben insisted I wear a tight black dress, though long, with fishnets underneath.

"You look like a snack," he says, kissing me. I want to tell him that's not how I'm supposed to look when meeting his parents, but before I can say anything else, the door swings open, and the warm air hits me, thick with the scent of cinnamon, roast turkey, and some other spices that make it undeniably homey. Ben's mom stands there, beaming, but there's a flicker in her eyes that says she's still figuring out how to navigate this. I'm sure she's spent years seeing Ben walk in with Lisa, and now here I am—a stranger, walking into their world like I somehow belong.

"Come in, come in! Dinner's ready," she says, her voice overly cheerful, like she's trying to make everything seem perfect.

Ben's hand settles on the small of my back, guiding me inside, but the weight of the moment presses down on me. This isn't just dinner. It's a threshold, a beginning of something much bigger. I'm stepping into his world, seeing the roots that built him.

We walk in, and I spot a photo on the wall. "Wow, is that... Ben?" I can barely suppress a giggle. It's him, years younger, awkward haircut, braces, his arms resting on a school desk like he somehow was still a baddie.

"Oh yes, he was seven here," his mom says, her voice filled with pride. "He'd just won a school math trivia competition."

"That's adorable," I laugh, nudging Ben as he tries to slip away, clearly embarrassed.

The house is glowing with warmth. Soft, golden lights wrap around the banister, casting a cozy glow that feels like home in every corner. The scent of pine mixes with the aroma of fresh cookies baking in the oven, and it's all so... perfect. A Christmas movie come to life.

Ben's mom is already in the kitchen, pots clanking, making sure everything is just right. His dad, ever the host, takes my coat and steps into the living room where Mara and Paul are engaged in some spirited discussion over a platter of cheeses and salami.

A tall Christmas tree stands in the corner, decked with vintage ornaments and topped with a star that looks like it's been passed down through generations. The hum of tradition fills the room, and I'm reminded of how different this is from anything I've ever known.

"Come, sit," Ben's dad calls out, motioning to the table. "I was just telling Paul I'm going to beat him in cards tonight. No one in this family can take me down."

"By which he means you have to let him win," Ben adds, shaking Paul's hand with a smirk.

And just like that, I feel like I've stepped into something intimate, something real. A family, with all their quirks and histories, and now, somehow, I'm part of it.