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What if this is a mistake?

I thought of the way her new clothes looked hanging next to mine. For me, it was simply a gift—one I was anxious to give her. However, Krystina tended to look too much into things, and I was afraid of how she might perceive the appearance of my closet.

Maybe I shouldn’t show her this. Not yet.

“What is it?” she asked.

Her question tore me away from the indecisive meanderings.

I shook my head to clear it, feeling uncomfortable with how I seemed to be questioning my every move as of late. I had always been confident in my choices, yet I seemed to stumble over the smallest of decisions surrounding Krystina, and it was starting to wear on me. I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Get your shit together and just give her the damn clothes!

“It’s here. In my closet,” I told her.

I opened the doors and gestured her inside. She stopped when she reached the threshold, not having to venture any further to see what was plainly before her. I saw her visibly blanch, in what I could only assume was shock, before she slowly turned to face me. Our eyes locked, and hers were flashing with accusation.

I should have waited.

“Alex, you said you had something for me. These are things. As in plural. Very plural.”

Her voice was strained, and I could tell she was trying to keep her temper in check.

“I just wanted you to have a choice, that’s all.” I tried to shrug off her concern.

She got quiet, unusually so. From the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, she appeared agitated. She attempted to tuck a curl behind her ear, but it sprang free again. I reached up to do it for her, but she jerked her head away. I dropped my hand to my side, knowing she was just as angry as I feared she would be.

She cast her eyes down, seeming to stare at some invisible speck on the carpet. Occasionally, her eyes would dart back up to her new wardrobe, but then down again as if she couldn’t bear the sight. Her silence was vexing, but I held my tongue, waiting for her to break it first.

“I wish you hadn’t done this,” she eventually whispered.

“I wanted to,” I stated simply.

She looked up at that, sticking out a stubborn chin.

“What if I don’t want to accept?”

I pursed my lips in annoyance, trying not to feel insulted over her rejection. I took a deep breath, reminding myself Krystina responded best to brutal honesty.

“You’re not getting it, Krystina. I want to buy you things. I want to take care of you. It’s a need I can’t explain,” I told her, trying to sound as earnest as possible. “It makes me happy to do so, as I so discovered today. This is just something you’ll have to get used to.”

“Look, I appreciate it, but it’s you who isn’t getting it. A week ago, we were both saying no strings attached. All of this is a whole lot of strings,” she said, motioning to the clothes with her hand.

I chuckled at her unintentional pun, trying to keep the mood light. I was just grateful she was talking again.

“Angel, they’re only clothes.”

“They’re more than clothes to me. It’s what they symbolize.”

“I understand your hesitation. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t know what possessed me to do it. I’ve never personally gone shopping for a woman before, not even for my sister. It was just…” I struggled to try to find the right words to explain my compulsion. “It was just something I wanted to do. Accepting would make me very happy.”

She looked pained as if she were suffering from some sort of internal battle. She looked at me, eyes full of uncertainty, before walking into the closet and running her hand up and down the sleeves of the blouses.

“You shopped for all of this by yourself?”

“Sort of. Hale may have had a thing or two to say about some of the stuff I bought.”

Her head snapped around so fast that it threatened whiplash. Her eyes were round with apparent disbelief, but then she let out a loud and genuine laugh. The sound was infectious and music to my ears.