39.
September 15th, 2020
Iran a hand over my pin-straight hair and practically skipped over to my apartment door. He rang the bell again – this time in a rush. I fixed my dress and gently rubbed my eyes to make sure my contact lenses were okay, because I’d opted not to wear my glasses. I swiped a finger over my upper lip, and then finally unlocked and opened the door.
“Why, hello there, mister,” I sang as I rested my hip against the knob.
His eyes traveled over my body – over theUnder the Woodsorange Halloween edition t-shirt dress I was wearing – and then came up to my face again. He placed an elbow on the doorframe and leaned against it, which resulted in his slim-fitted white dress-shirt to rise just a little. His forearms flexed on their own accord when he shifted on his feet and bent so that his face was close to mine. “Hey, you.”
I took a step closer to him, gently tugged on his black tie, and pressed a soft kiss on his smiling lips. “Happy birthday, baby.”
Gallan grinned. “Thank you.” He kissed me once. “God, I missed you today.”
I chuckled. “How was the meeting?” I grabbed his left hand and walked him into the apartment with me. “Wait.” I stopped and looked at him. “Why aren’t you wearing your mask and gloves?”
He pulled his tie off and threw it on the coffee table, kicked the door shut as he unbuttoned his shirt from the top, and folded his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. “Iwaswearing them, but took them off before coming up here,” he said. “And, to answer your initial question: the meeting went way better than I was expecting it to.” He smiled and tugged me closer. “None of them decided to leave.”
I pulled my hand from his, fixed his shirt’s collar, and cupped the side of his face. “I told you so, didn’t I?”
He laughed airily. “You did, yeah.”
He had his very first employee meeting since the pandemic at theUnder the WoodsHQ earlier. He’d been stressing over it for days, and for some reason, he was under the impression that his employees didn’t want to work for him anymore. That was ridiculous, of course, and I’d told him exactly that, but my stubborn guy had still decided to worry over the “logicalities” of our current situation until he’d quite literally dozed off in my bed the night before.
Being able to spend every literal second of every day with Gallan since the pandemic hit had been a blessing. The lockdown and quarantine conditions we faced had shown me a side of him that I hadn’t seen before. We’d had our fair share of arguments over small, domestic things, of course, because we weren’t a reality show couple but arealone. But the moments where we spent hours upon hours cleaning and cooking and laughing over ridiculous things – those were the treasures I’d stamped and glued onto the scrapbook that was my heart. The candid days I spent with Gallan were invaluable, irreplaceable. They were the essence of a magic not rare, but priceless and precious nonetheless.
“Hey, no; wait.” I grabbed Gallan’s forearm when he started walking towards my kitchen.
He turned and looked down at me. “What’s wrong?”
I pushed some of my hair behind my left ear. “You can’t go into the kitchen yet.”
He raised a brow and tilted his head a little. “What are you up to now?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I may or may not have baked you a birthday cake,” I told him.
The afternoon light pouring in through my open living-room window reflected against his side profile as he scanned my face. “Zaira…” He swallowed. “You didn’t have to.”
I sighed and placed a hand on his chest. “Of course I had to. I spoke with your mum earlier, and she said you were adamant on not celebrating your birthday with her, your dad, and everyone else this year because of the social distancing rule, and even though you’ve already told me that a hundred different times, I couldn’t just not celebrate the day you were born.” I ran the pad of my thumb over his bottom lip. “I’ve set up a quick zoom call with the others while you cut the cake, and said cake is big enough that we can pack it into containers and send it to everyone tomorrow. Sound good?”
He blinked at me. “I don’t deserve you,” he all but whispered.
“You very much do.” I once again grabbed his hand. “Close your eyes.”
He chuckled. “Okay…” He did as I’d asked with a beautiful smile on his face.
“Perfect. Come on; cake time.” I led him into the kitchen, and then let go of his hand once we were standing in front of the counter.
“Are you leading me into your kitchen, or a sacrifice pentagram?” he mused.
“You’re funny when you want to be, Underwood.”
He smirked. “I know.”
I clicked my tongue. “Open your eyes.”
He did, and then looked down at the cake I’d made him. “Whoa…” His eyes widened a little as he glanced between me and it. “You made that?” The awe on his features made me blush.
“I did,” I said as I rocked on my feet.
