Lauren
Lauren could hardly sit still.
The lights from the tree shimmered across the wrapping paper as she slid the gift toward Tom, almost vibrating with excitement.
“Open mine next,” she said, trying—and failing—to sound casual.
Tom's fingers worked at the string she'd tied so carefully around the package.
"I hope you like it," Lauren whispered, perched on the arm of his chair so she could watch his face.
Anticipation and nerves bubbled up inside her.
The brown paper finally fell away. Lauren held her breath as Tom lifted the quilt. Colors spilled across his lap—reds and creams and little bits of their life stitched together.
"Lauren..." his voice was strangled.
She leaned forward, fingertips brushing the edge of the quilt. “Do you see? This one’s our first date. The coffee cups. And here’s our first apartment—the red door.” She pointed, laughing a little from nerves. “That’s the church, our honeymoon…” Her voice tumbled over itself, the joy of it too big to contain.
Tom was staring at the quilt. Lauren's heart swelled. He was speechless. Actually speechless with emotion.
She laughed, giddy with the relief of finally sharing her secret. "I've been working on this in secret.” She settled closer to him on the chair arm. "And look—I left blank squares at the bottom. For memories still to come."
Still Tom didn’t say anything. He just stared at the quilt, his mouth slightly open.
"Lo,” he said, and his voice sounded strained. "This is..."
She waited, her heart in her throat, for him to find the words. Beautiful. Incredible. The most thoughtful gift he'd ever received. She could practically see him searching for something big enough to match what she'd given him.
Around them, the room had gone quiet.
“It’s very nice, honey,” he said.
For a moment Lauren just blinked at him, the words not fitting the shape of the moment she’d built.
Like she’d misheard. Misunderstood. Surely he hadn’t saidthat.
Tom was already refolding the quilt.
He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
Something inside her dropped, hard and sick, like missing a step in the dark.
Lauren realized, too late: she’d embarrassed herself. She felt the heat crawl up her neck.
Tom was embarrassed too. Of her.Forher.
She watched as he folded the quilt. Watched him set it aside.
Her hands stayed in her lap, palms pressed together so no one could see them shaking.
Around them, the room felt too bright suddenly, the Christmas tree lights too harsh. She was painfully aware of everyone watching her. His parents. Jake and Mia.
She'd made a spectacle of herself. Gushing about the meaning behind each square, pointing out every detail like a child showing off a crayon drawing.
Richard cleared his throat. "Quite the keepsake," he said loudly. "Very… personal."
"You've always been so… industrious,” Judith said.
