The lights twinkled softly, reflecting off the glass ornaments. Noah stirred and opened his eyes, blinking in the light.

— Good morning, — Andrew murmured.

Noah looked at him warily.

— I’m still here?

Andrew awkwardly patted his head.

— Where else would you go?

The boy looked down.

— I’ve never had a home before.

Andrew swallowed hard.

— You do now.

Noah looked up at him, and a flicker of hope shone in his eyes. Andrew gathered his courage and said firmly:

— I’m signing the final adoption papers tomorrow.

Noah’s lips parted slightly.

— Really?

— Yes, — Andrew nodded.

The boy blinked several times.

— So you’ll really be my dad?

Andrew felt his breath catch. Noah was looking at him with a mixture of fear and hope, waiting for the answer he had dreamed of. A warmth spread through Andrew’s chest. He squeezed the boy’s shoulder and said quietly:

— Yes, son.

Noah froze. His lips trembled, and then he threw himself into Andrew’s arms. Andrew held him tight, feeling the small boy shake.

— I love you, son, — Andrew whispered.

Noah went still, and then, in the softest voice Andrew had ever heard, he replied, — I love you too, Dad.

Andrew closed his eyes and felt those words fill his soul. For the first time, he had a family.

Andrew sat on the sofa, holding a hot cup of tea. Noah was asleep beside him, curled up under a warm blanket Andrew had pulled from the closet just for him. The Christmas tree in the corner twinkled softly, casting a gentle glow on the living room walls. Outside, Chicago was slowly waking up—snow fell in large flakes, blanketing the rooftops and cobblestones of Lincoln Park in white. Today was a special day—the day Noah would officially become his son.

Andrew glanced at the clock—nine in the morning. In an hour, he was meeting with the lawyer to sign the final documents. Last night, he had called Ryan and asked him to expedite the process. «It’s important,» he had said, and Ryan had simply smiled over the phone. «I see you’ve finally figured out what family is.»

Noah stirred and opened his eyes. He blinked a few times, as if still not believing he was waking up in this house.

— Good morning, — Andrew said quietly.

The boy sat up, rubbing his eyes.

— Is today the day?

Andrew nodded, feeling a warmth in his chest.

— Yes. Today you become Noah Miller.

Noah froze, and then his lips stretched into a shy smile.

— Noah Miller, — he repeated softly, as if tasting his new name.

Andrew put his cup on the table and stood up.

— Get ready. We’ll go together.

An hour later, they were standing in the lawyer’s office. The sterile room with its dark wood furniture and the smell of paper seemed too formal for such a moment, but Andrew didn’t care. The lawyer, a kind-eyed older woman, handed him the papers.

— Sign here, Mr. Miller, — she said, pointing to a line.

Andrew took the pen, his hand trembling slightly. He looked at Noah, who stood beside him, clutching his small backpack. The boy’s eyes never left him, and in his gaze, there was something new—trust. Andrew smiled and signed his name.

— That’s it, — the lawyer said, taking the documents. — Congratulations, Noah is now your son.

Andrew felt the tension that had gripped him for weeks finally release. He turned to Noah and placed a hand on his shoulder.

— Let’s go home, son.

On the way back, Noah sat in the front seat, holding the freshly stamped document. He kept glancing at it, as if afraid it would disappear.

— What are we going to do at home? — he asked suddenly.

Andrew thought for a moment.

— What would you like to do?

Noah hesitated.

— Maybe… have a snowball fight? There’s a lot of snow in the yard.

Andrew looked at him in surprise, then smiled.

— You’ve got a deal. But first, lunch. I bought the stuff for grilled cheese and tomato soup yesterday—your favorite.

Noah’s eyes lit up.

— Really?

— Really, — Andrew nodded.

When they returned home, the apartment no longer felt so empty. Noah threw off his jacket and ran to the window, looking out at the yard where kids were already running around, building snowmen. Andrew stood behind him, watching. He thought of Eleanor—her smile, her soft voice in that video. She had always believed he could be more than just a «busy man.» And now, he understood she had been right.

— Dad, — Noah suddenly called out, turning around. — Will we still have time to build a snowman?

Andrew felt a warmth spread through his chest at that word—»Dad.» He nodded.

— We’ll have time. For a snowman, a snowball fight, and anything else you want.

Noah laughed—for the first time, so easily and genuinely. Andrew walked over and hugged him, feeling the small boy press against him. For the first time in five years, this house was filled with laughter, warmth, and life.

They went out into the yard, bundled in scarves and hats. The snow crunched under their feet, and the frost bit at their cheeks. Noah threw the first snowball, hitting Andrew in the shoulder, and laughed when he feigned injury. Andrew retaliated with a snowball of his own, and soon they were chasing each other, falling into snowdrifts and laughing like children.

Neighbors watched from their windows in astonishment—the always-gloomy Andrew Miller, laughing in the snow with a little boy. But he didn’t care. For the first time, he felt truly alive.

When they returned home, frozen and happy, Andrew put the kettle on while Noah got out a box of cookies they had bought yesterday. Sitting at the table, they ate their soup and sandwiches, discussing what their snowman should look like next time.

— We need to give him a carrot for a nose, — Noah said with his mouth full.

— And charcoal for eyes, — Andrew added, smiling.

Noah nodded, then added quietly, — I’m glad I stayed here.

Andrew looked at him and felt his heart swell with tenderness.

— Me too, son. I’m very glad.

That evening, as Noah fell asleep holding his photograph of Eleanor, Andrew stood by the Christmas tree, thinking about how much everything had changed. Eleanor had taught him how to love—not with words, but with her final gift. And now, looking at his sleeping son, he knew: love doesn’t require blood. It only requires hearts ready to find each other. And they had.