It’s a small, private curve of her lips, but it hits me with the force of a fist to my chest. The world tilts, the muted background recedes into nothing, and I have to grip the door to keep from falling over.
“Look at you.” Her voice is the only sound that matters, a warm melody cutting through the winter’s silence. She glides over the icy sidewalk, a vision of impossible grace, and stops just before me. Her eyes, bright and alive, search mine. “You’re really here.”
The astonishment in her tone is a blade twisted in my gut. Does she have any idea what she does to me? “Were you expecting someone else to appear?”
I reach for her luggage, my fingers brushing against hers as I pluck the handle from her grip. A tingle, sharp and sweet, arcs up my arm. Her cheeks flush a perfect, rosy pink, and a selfish, desperate part of me wishes it wasn’t just from the cold.
“You never know with technology nowadays,” she murmurs, watching me as I load her suitcase next to mine. She rocks back on her boots, the little fuzzballs dancing. “Are we really going to drive all the way there? Isn’t it all the way on the other side of the state?”
Absolutely. Sure, I could have us there in an hour by air, but why cut it so short when I could have her at my side for five hours instead? The greedy, starved side of me can’t bear to lose a single second of her proximity.
“We can take breaks. Plenty of sights to see.” Did I have Francine spend two hours plotting the most scenic, impressive route possible instead of focusing on her normal tasks? Without a doubt. “I hope that’s alright.”
Her nod is immediate, a little too quick. “Perfect, actually. I’m scared of heights, anyway.”
A real, unguarded smile tugs at my lips. When it’s just the two of us, I don’t have to hold back, do I? There’s no one to perform for, no one to witness my vulnerabilities. Just us.
Drifting to the other side of the vehicle, I hold the passenger door for her, and she slides in with a soft “thank you.” The word is aimed at the space between us, hesitant. Rounding the hood, I’m still buzzing from her gentleness.
Can I tell her how pretty she looks today, or is it too soon? How comical, a man in my shoes worrying about such trivial things.
The engine purrs to life, and I cue up a playlist of soft Christmas tunes, the volume low, just a backdrop to the symphony of her presence. For a few minutes, there’s only the hum of the heater and the swish of the tires on damp asphalt. The silence is thick, nervous. It’s been a long time.
We can’t just slide back into conversation like old friends, can we? While I’ve kept up on her life through my phone, I can’t blame her if she doesn’t give a damn about my corporal world enough to ask a question or two to strike up a conversation.
“The, uh… the flowers you sent were beautiful, Charles. Thank you.” Her voice is quiet, cutting through my thoughts.
“Orchids,” I say, my eyes on the road but my entire being focused on her. “You’ve always loved them.”
I see her shift in my periphery. That flush is back, painting her neck and cheeks. “You remembered.”
I remember everything when it comes to her.
I let the silence sit for a moment before reaching for another chance to hear her voice. “What’s Owen doing for the holiday?”
She relaxes slightly, talking about her brother. “He’s got his three little tornadoes to spoil. He’ll be drowning in shredded wrapping paper and enjoying a small get-together. That’s how it usually goes, anyway.”
And this year, she’s not going to be joining them in the chaos. No matching sweaters, no present opening videos.
It feels like I’m stealing more than I deserve by having her at my side, breaking up traditions. At the same time, this’ll be the first time I won’t be clinging to my phone, waiting for updates.
Maybe this year… I’ll appear in her feed.
“Well,” I say, my own voice gruffer than I intend. “Thank you. For doing this. For coming with me.”
She waves a dismissive hand, hoping to reassure me. “It’s no problem. Really. I, um… I packed a dress for the event. It’s not… It’s not really fancy, though. Just something I had.”
My mind immediately conjures a dozen possibilities. Is it that deep blue one that makes her eyes look like twilight? A simple black sheath that hugs the gentle curve of her waist? It doesn’t matter. Whatever she’s picked, I know, with a certainty that roots deep in my soul, that it will be perfect.
She could wear a burlap sack and still be the most stunning woman in the room.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I tell her, and it’s the understatement of the century. I clear my throat, the next offer tumbling out. “If you want, while we’re there, I’ll buy you one. A new one. In return for this.”
In truth, I’ll buy her whatever she wants. Even if she wants to burn a hole in my wallet, I want to spoil her. Would she let me?
“I haven’t left Fairland in forever.” Sinking into the seat, I feel her eyes on me. “You don’t have to worry about going out ofyour way. This is like a mini-vacation for me. Plenty of payment as is.”
The stirring in my chest stretches, enjoying her unselfishness. It’s so…her. She’s being given a diamond, and she’s marveling at the box it came in.
