I hand him his coffee before lowering myself onto the floor beside him, tucking my legs underneath me while the tree lights flicker over scattered presents and ribbon.
For a few minutes, we don’t say anything.We just sit there together.I know he’s a little bruised from everything cracking open yesterday.But I know he’s not broken.If anything, he’s more whole, more healed now.That feels important.
Hayden reaches for one of the smaller wrapped boxes and sets it in my lap.“Open this first.”
“You’re bossy even on Christmas.”
“I’m consistent.”
I smile despite myself and carefully untie the ribbon.Inside is a velvet jewelry box.I glance at him with one brow raised.
“Open it.”
The necklace inside steals the breath from my lungs.It’s a delicate gold chain with a tiny pendant shaped like a sunflower.My fingers brush over the tiny petals.It’s not some extravagant declaration made to overwhelm me.
It’s a sunflower.My very own Van Gogh.The flowers he bought me.Emily’s favorite flowers.A thread between all the soft and wounded parts of this story we’ve been writing together without realizing it.
“Hayden…” I swallow to try and keep the tears threatening to fall at bay.
His throat works once.“I saw it and thought of you.”
The simplicity nearly undoes me.I look up at him, and swipe away a tear that’s managed to escape.“You always do.”
His expression shifts at that.Like the words land somewhere tender and he still doesn’t know what to do with those feelings.
“Will you put it on me?”
He takes the chain from me, his hands careful, his fingers warm as they brush the back of my neck as he fastens the clasp.When the pendant settles against my chest, his thumb traces it once before his hand falls away.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“So are you.”
I lean in and kiss him before reaching behind me for his gift.“Well,” I profess, clearing the emotion from my throat badly.“Now mine feels a little less glamorous.”
“I doubt that.”
“You haven’t opened it yet.”I shrug.
He takes the small box from me, studying it with suspicion.
“That look is rude.”
“I’ve learned not to trust innocent wrapping.”
“Smart man.”
Hayden begins to unwrap it with cautious precision, because of course he does, folding the paper instead of tearing it unlike the absolute lunatic I am.Then he opens the box, and goes completely still.
The key rests on a small silver keychain shaped like a tiny black bass guitar.For one beautiful, terrifying second, neither of us speaks.
Then Hayden looks up at me slowly.“You made me a key.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling too hard.“It’s to my apartment.”
“Your apartment?”His brow kicks up as his head tilts.
“Yes.”I bite my lip to try and hide how nervous I am.
