Christian laughs. “You’ll throw it at me.”
I pout. “Christian, I don’t want you spending money on me.”
“Baby, if I don’t spend it, it’ll just sit there, and if there is anyone I want to spend my money on, it’s you. And our kids.”
Our kids.
“Let me spoil you,” Christians says softly. “Open it. Please.”
I chew on my inner lip and eye the black bag. “Fine.”
I pull out the contents of the bag, stealing a glance at Christian just to see his giant grin. He snatches away the bag and on the box it says,Saint Laurent.
“Christian.”
“Shhh.” He chuckles. “Open it. You’re going to love this, I promise.”
Groaning—both out of frustration and excitement— I pull the top off the sleek, black box. I pull away the tissue paper and the pouch it’s hiding in until I reach the gift.
I inhale sharply. “Christian…”
A black, leatherYSLcrossbody bag with the gold chain strap.
“Oh my god.” I brush my fingers over the material lightly.
“I know you love your crossbody bags,” he says. “And I know you like simplicity. So I picked a simple one for you. It’s also a color you can wear with almost everything…”
“Christian,” I breathe shakily. “I…”
“Put it on.”
Gingerly, my fingers wrap around the small bag and the chain falls around my hands as I stare at it—the third most expensive thing I know, and thanks to Christian.
“I really,reallylove it, Christian,” I croak, feeling my eyes sting just as the corners of my vision cloud.
I feel his soft, warm lips on my cheek and then his thumb wiping the corner of my eye. “Please don’t throw it at me.”
I chuckle tearfully. “I would never, I love this thing.”
“More than the boots?”
“I love those boots. And I love this bag. I love the sneakers,” I say. “I love all of it. I… I’m… I’m going to take care of this thing, I swear. Even if it never sees the light of day, I’ll?—”
Christian laughs. “Baby, you’re going to wear it tonight for the carnival.”
“But…” I frown. “But it’ll get ruined.”
“No, it won’t,” he says, opening my new bag and putting my phone, wallet, and keys into it. He then puts the bag around me, letting it hang from my shoulder and cross my body to rest at my hip. “And even if it gets ruined, I’ll buy you a hundred more. In all different colors.”
“No, I’ll clean it,” I say. “I’ll make there aren’t fingerprints or?—”
“You look beautiful, baby.” He smiles.
I push my hair behind my ears and feel my cheeks flush. “Thank you.” I throw my arms around his neck. “For the bag. For everything, I love it. I love you.”
His arms wind around me tightly. “I love you,” he whispers, brushing his lips over mine. “We should get going so we can get on the good rides before the lines are too long.”
“It’s still early,” I chuckle, adding my lipgloss and travel sized perfume into my new bag.
