Page 70 of Pretty Thing

Christmas music hums low through the house, while Felix cooks enough food for six people and somehow keeps quietly taking care of me without making it obvious. Coffee appears before I ask. Pain meds are handed over right on time. A blanket is tucked around me whenever I shiver. A smile and kiss at just the right moment I need one.

It should feel overwhelming, but it’s terrifyingly easy to let him.

At one point, he goes out to his vehicle and comes back in carrying something badly wrapped in old newspapers.

“I forgot wrapping paper,” Felix says, with a sheepish shrug.

I stare at him.

“You got me a present?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I just wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t get you anything.”

“Stop it. I’m not giving you this because I expect a gift in return. Besides, it’s not exactly like you can run out to the store.” He nods toward the gift and smirks. That little smile feels like it is all for me. “Open it, Pretty Thing.”

Carefully, I peel back the paper and pull out a camera. Not a new one, but vintage and heavy.

“Oh my god.”

“You can’t beat the quality of an older camera with all the new fancy digital ones. They just don’t have the character,” he says quietly.

I stare down at it in awe.

“It’s beautiful.”

My eyes meet his, and he lights up at my reaction.

“My mom used photography to cope when things got bad,” he admits. “She said sometimes it’s easier to survive life when you learn how to frame it differently.”

I love that.

“Felix…”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“No, I do. This is so sweet. Thank you,” I say, with tears in my eyes.

He leans in, and the kiss tastes like coffee, grief, and something dangerously close to love.

By noon we’re both singing old Christmas songs off-key, while Felix teaches me aperture settings and how to load the film into the camera.

When it’s time to get ready to leave, I don’t want to. This is exactly what I wanted to do today, not go and be social with a bunch of people, no matter how much I love them.

Felix rubs my knee.

“I know today is hard for you. I’d like to toast your parents, my mum, and my brother who can’t be here either. To those we have loved and lost but will never forget.”

Emotion clogs my throat as we gently clink our mugs together.

He helps me get into the pants and red knit sweater I’ve picked for tonight, guilt riding me every second. At 4:15 sharp, Felix heads to the front door and pulls on his jacket.

“You don’t have to leave yet,” I say quietly, my heart sinking.

He smiles.

“Yes. I do. I know that Kris and Kyle don’t like me and that’s fine. I don’t want to make today hard or awkward for you by being here when your ride arrives.”