I frown, “Why?”
“It reminds me of what I don’t have.”
I kiss his chest and remain silent as I listen.
“When I was a little, I used to pray that the Christmas angel would come and save me, give me a family of my own.”
“You don’t have a family?” I whisper.
He pauses as if getting the wording right in his head, “I was a ward of the state. The government took me from my parents when I was a baby, they were drug addicts. I bounced between foster and group homes until I was old enough to do it on my own.”
My heart constricts, I imagine him as a little boy praying for a Christmas Angel who never came, and my eyes well with tears.
“When you wanted me to decorate the tree…….”
“It’s okay,” I cut him off. “I get it.” I trace my finger on his chest as I try to think of the right thing to say.
“It’s impossible for me to believe that living with my parents could have been worse than the places I grew up.”
I can feel the sadness seeping out of him, it’s overpowering, and suddenly I feel like an entitled princess by getting upset that he didn’t want to decorate a stupid fake tree.
“Your family would have been so proud of you, Dylan. If only they could see how wonderful you turned out,” I whisper into the darkness. “Look at you, you’re a cop.”
I feel him smile above me, “I probably would have busted their ass.”
“Or changed their tire.” I smile.
We fall silent for a while, and I want to change the subject, he doesn’t have to explain himself any longer, I get the whole traumatic picture now, and I don’t want him to think about it.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said to me,” I whisper.
“About what?”
“About living a lie and doing a job I hate.”
“And?”
“And I think you’re right.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to think about going back to school.”
He smiles proudly as he brushes the hair back from my face, “Look at you.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming to find me tonight.” I kiss him, my lips linger over his. “I feel like I know you a lot better than I actually do.”
“Same.”
I smile broadly, “Maybe we were destined to meet.”
“I don’t believe in destiny, but I am glad that you got a flat tire.”
“I’m glad you had to search my premises.”
