AllFreeNovel
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I stepped farther in and saw he cleared my cabinets while I was asleep. I opened my fridge. Empty and spotless. When I glanced back at him, he looked at me expectantly.
Oh, right.
I gulped. “You have other responsibilities. And I haven’t outgrown the city life yet. I don’t know what I’d do in Everett.” All of a sudden, I wished I had more clothes on, the air feeling chilly to me.
“Can we have a day? I’m leaving tonight. Just give me a day where none of that bullshit matters, and I don’t have to worry if I’m never going to see you again.” He looked exhausted and I certainly felt it.
All plans to work that day were instantly cancelled. Sometimes you had to know when to put someone first. And while I was frightened, Dexter needed peace. So, I’d give him all that I could. “The day is yours. What would you like to do?”
“Would it sound too pathetic if I said I just wanted to be around you? Here? I’m tired of everyone. I miss our bubble.”
I stepped to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. His clothes felt cold against my skin, but I held on. “Sounds perfect.”
“But first,” he pulled away, “I distinctly remember telling you you’d have to wait for your Christmas gift.”
“Yes…”
He turned me around, swatting my bottom. “Go get dressed and sit on your bed. Do not come over here, and do not peek.”
I walked slowly toward my bed, wishing I could see what he was up to. My separator wasn’t thin enough to see through, so I settled on picking something to wear for the day. I chose black jeans, a white button-up, and a green cable-knit sweater. With thick socks on, I figured I was ready for the day. I stepped in front of the mirror I’d hung above my dresser and started braiding my hair. I hadn’t done the halo braid since…my eighteenth birthday. I missed the way it looked when my hair was blue, but it was lovely in brown as well. And my hair had natural highlights, copper streaks woven in the strands. I didn’t bother with makeup. Not when Dexter preferred my face bare. Though there was that one time with the red lipstick…
I was picking up my clothes when I heard music. I straightened and looked at the separator curiously. When I took a few steps toward it, Dexter called my name.
I went to him, his hand outstretched.
Where’s the music coming from?
I looked around the room until my eyes settled on a record player. He had set it on my desk beside my printer. There was a pile of records sitting on the floor next to a pile of books.
“Oh, it’s lovely,” I said, willing my eyes not to cry. “Macy Gray?” He was playing the song I sang to him that one time when life wasn’t such a field full of the remnants of war, complete with blood and regret.
“Now you can listen to music again,” he said, his hand grabbing the one I offered. “Why’d you stop?”
I sucked in air, trying to find the courage to be honest. He deserved it, even if it hurt. “I stopped doing a lot of things that reminded me of you.” He had me swaying along to the melody, despite my trepidation. Even when I said the words that I knew hurt, he continued swaying, his feet stepping only slightly, my hand cupped in his. “I feel like I’m at a school dance.”
Seven years and countless little shards of my heart scattered throughout this apartment, and I was still as smitten as I’d been that fateful day in high school.
“Let’s go steady. I’ll bring my letterman jacket.” His hands went lower, stopping at my hips.
“You don’t have a letterman jacket,” I said. “I was there, remember?”
“I’ll borrow Ralph’s,” he retorted, and we both burst with laughter. “Do you like your gift?”
I nodded and stepped back, still holding his hands. “Hold on.” I ran over to my hall closet, where I kept towels and blankets, and reached for the wrapped box on the floor. I walked back to Dexter, taking my time, watching his smile stretching at the sight of the gift in my hands.
“You didn’t.” He smiled.
“Of course, I did.” I handed it to him and laughed as he tore the paper apart.
He eyed the box in surprise. “A camera?”
“Agoodcamera. A really good camera,” I supplied.
He opened the box and looked like he had no clue what to do.
“I figured, I’m the creative one, the right-brained one. You’re the technical one, the left-brained one. I wanted to bring some color to your world. Also, you have this awful staring problem and you know what they say about pictures lasting longer.”
He set the camera down and lifted me in his arms. “You’re all the color I need, Blue.”
