AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Right. Christmas.
My hand slipped into my pocket, and I touched the edges of Alessandro’s card. The audition was Christmas Eve.
“Jules?”
“I can’t make it,” I told her. “I have a thing.”
“Athing?” she spat. “More important than us? More important than—”
“I’ll explain later. I’m sorry, I really need to go.” And then I hung up. I clicked the little button on the side of the phone, turning it to silent, then I slipped it into my pocket and braced myself against the cold wind, heading toward the building.
I was damn near frozen by the time I got the key in the lock, and I lamented the fact that there was no heating in my apartment as I trudged down the stairs. But as I opened the door, I felt something. A small burst of warm air.
With a frown, I headed into the dimly lit corridor and came to a stop when I noticed something sitting in front of my door—two large paper bags with little handles and the name of a company I couldn’t read in the low light.
Another gift from Raymond?
Flexing my fingers, I managed to get the door open, then I grabbed the bags and stepped inside. Everything seemed normal until it hit me: it wasn’t freezing. The radiator was pumping out warmth, the quiet knocking sounds filling the once silent space, and it was comforting instead of cruel.
Glancing around for some sort of note letting me know he’d come by, there was no indication anyone had been over except the bags now sitting on the table. With some hesitation, I peered inside the first one and saw plastic containers with clear lids that were fogged with condensation. With a frown, I pulled the first one out and pried the lid off, staring down at some sort of pasta that was just on the edge of frozen.
The second box was the same, and the third.
In total, there were a dozen meals, all frozen, and all very much homemade. There was still no note, and while the logical part of my brain said not to take anonymous hallway food, I had been surviving on so little that I simply walked to the freezer and carefully set them in the empty space.
I didn’t quite know how to feel in that moment. Things seemed off-kilter like the earth had tilted just slightly deeper on its axis. Maybe the average man wouldn’t have noticed, but it hit me like vertigo.
I strained my ears, listening to see if Forrest was around, but the sounds of his music and his tools were absent. My heart ached a little at that, and I walked into the bedroom, stripping off my coat and sweater now that the room was actually warm.
“Wish you were here,” I murmured.
“Are you talking to me, sweetheart?”
I jolted, my heart hammering in my chest. It wasn’t like Forrest to be so quiet. Even when he slept, he snored loud enough that I heard him. I dropped to the edge of the bed and cleared my throat.
“I thought you were gone. I was missing the terrible sounds of that electric guitar you love so much.”
He chuckled, the sound a little strained. “Headache.”
There was something in his voice that said it wasn’t a normal sort of headache, so I climbed onto the bed and sat with my back against the wall. “Can I do anything?”
He huffed another quiet laugh. “No. I’ve had these since I was a baby. Stress tends to bring them on, and this is the week of stress.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
It was the only thing I could say because my other question would have been to ask him if he wanted me to come over there and help. I knew he’d tell me no. Something in my gut was so certain that if I tried to cross that line and asked to see him, I’d ruin whatever small progress we’d made as…well, whatever the fuck we were.
Forrest met me with silence that stretched on so long, he was likely either ignoring me or he’d fallen asleep. Then I heard him take a breath. “You know how I told you I don’t date?”
My stomach churned. Fuck, was he in a relationship? Was he married?
“Yes.”
“That’s not strictly true. Because I’m a goddamn pushover when it comes to my brother, I agreed to let him set me up on two dates a year.” Forrest sighed again, and I heard a small thump like he’d knocked his forehead against the wall. His voice sounded closer when he spoke again. “I usually save them for the end of the year. Easier to get them done and over with, you know?”
I almost laughed. That was so like him. And the relief I felt was almost painful, but I wasn’t ready to confront that just yet. “I get it.”
“Oh, I know you do,” he said, and there was a grin in his tone. “I went on the first date this afternoon, and it was…rough.”
