It was the office Christmas party, the kind with lukewarm punch and awkward small talk. This year, we’d agreed to a strict twenty-dollar limit for our Secret Santa exchange. Everyone grumbled about the constraint, but it was meant to keep things fair and fun. I certainly hadn’t put too much thought into the gift I bought for Brenda in accounting—a nice, but predictable, gourmet coffee set.When it was my turn, I pulled the slip of paper from the bowl. It was Connor, the quiet graphic designer from the third floor. I didn’t know him well; he mostly kept to himself, headphones permanently attached. His packages were always beautifully wrapped, though, which I found kind of endearing. This year, his box was heavier than the others, wrapped in midnight blue paper with a silver ribbon.

As I tore the paper away, a collective gasp went around the small circle of colleagues. Resting on a bed of velvet was a silver ring. Not a cheap trinket, but a truly beautiful piece. It was set with a small, yet vibrant, emerald stone that caught the twinkle of the Christmas lights. It looked expensive. Way, way beyond the twenty-dollar limit we’d all agreed upon.“Wow, Connor,” someone whistled. “That’s, uh, something.”Connor just gave a shy shrug, his cheeks flushing crimson under his messy brown hair. “I know it’s over the limit,” he mumbled, barely making eye contact. “But I saw it, and I just… I thought of you.” He said it so sincerely, so earnestly, that it didn’t come across as bragging, just a little bit clumsy.