The firelight glinted off her hair, turning the strands into red gold.  
“Thank you for inviting me.  You have such a wonderful family.”
“We have a wonderful family.  On several levels.”  He squeezed her gently.
She smiled shyly.  “Can we be a family of two?”
“Call it two and a half.”
“Seven months left.”
“Fine, two and two-ninths.  Math doesn’t matter.”
She laughed.  “No. However many we are, we’re a family.”
“Indeed we are.”  He watched her eyes wander the room.
“Let’s be together like this every year.”
“We will be, angel,” he promised.
And the fire flickered in agreement.

--

Again, sort of a conglomeration of a bunch of topics that had been on my mind: a Christmas party with my partner's family, teenage pregnancy, belonging, a conversation no one else should really hear.

"Angel" is my partner's nickname for me, and it felt like it belonged there.  Although in no way does this reflect on my real life!