Page 61 of Pretty Thing

He holds out the adorable custom ornament that my parents gave me last year. Another tradition of ours, one new ornament a year.

The pretty snow globe is a perfect little replica of our house. No bigger than an apple, the light catches the glass when I lift it. Santa’s sleigh is sitting in the front yard, loaded with gifts. There is only one gift I want this year, and it’s one that I’ll never get.

Hobbling to the tree, I spot the branch inches over from where it hung last year, and with trembling fingers, I hook the little metal wire in place.

A wash of love comes over me, and I can feel my parents. I smell freshly baked goodies and my dad’s cologne. I hear the carols as we argue about what board game to play on Christmas Eve. I cover my mouth and close my eyes, trying to hang onto the images in my mind. The smiles on their faces are a double-edge sword. It lances my heart, but I’ll take the pain to keep them here with me.

Felix wraps his arm around my shoulders but doesn’t say anything. He just lets me feel. It’s as if he knows me better than I know myself. Is that insane? He can see what I need even when I don’t.

I slowly tilt my head up and stare at him, not sure what to make of any of these feelings, and not sure I want to analyze them.

He finally looks down at me. His eyes are as clear and blue as a cloudless sky in July. Just as warm as a summer sun, and they seem to be the only thing that can make me feel like I might be okay.

“You look like you want to say something,” Felix says softly.

He touches my chin and runs his thumb over my lower lip.

“Thank you for doing this. I didn’t know I needed it.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

The corner of his mouth curls up and his lip piercing glints in the light from the tree. It makes him look innocent and devilish at the same time.

“Yes, but…”

“Ask,” Felix finishes for me.

“Yes.”

“I just think of stuff and do it. I noticed some pine needles on the floor, so I poured some warm sugar water into the base. I don’t think anyone had watered it in a while. I’m used to making decisions on my own. When Mum was alive, she worked two jobs. I was basically Sam’s guardian before I had to be, and…I know it’s not an excuse. I just want you to know I’m not doing these things to hurt you. But I’ll try to be better.”

“That’s all I ask.”

His mouth brushes my forehead, and just like that, all there is, is him. I can still feel his lips on mine from the kiss earlier, and I want him to do it again. He doesn’t. Instead, he steps away, picks up another ornament, and places it in my hand.

“There are a few left in the box. I have to say your father was a man after my own heart. Everything is in the storage bins and labeled. I love it.”

“Yeah, Dad is…was really OCD about organization. He always used to say, “An organized home is⁠—”

“The sign of an organized mind,” Felix says.

“Yeah, how did you know that?”

He shrugs.

“I thought it was a common saying, but it’s a good one. Do you want some hot chocolate? We can use those little marshmallows I got the other day.”

With a nod, he is off, and I’m left with the tree, the decorations, and the photo. Glancing at the image, I hunt down the ornament in my hands. It’s like a puzzle I’m trying to put back together, or maybe it’s pieces of my life, a moment in time I’m trying to recreate.

I’m just placing the last of the decorations and picking up the star when Felix walks in holding the hot chocolates. My eyes fill with tears again when I see he has the mug I always use, and it’s topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings.

“How do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Just…knowing me so well. How did you know this is my mug?”

“It’s the one on the table in the picture.”