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“Yes, but I can keep you warm.” His suggestive eyebrow wiggle makes me laugh.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Just a few hours later, I’m walking with Eli to his car, buzzing with nervous energy.
“So you’re the owner of the sleek sports car I always hear people talking about,” I tease as he holds the door open for me.
“I am.”
We drive in silence as we make our way to the drive-in, and I don’t mind it. Eli is easy company, and I’m comfortable just existing with him. He reaches into his backseat when we park and pulls out a blanket and snacks.
The movie is cute, and by the time it’s over I’m not even cold. The blankets kept us warm.
“Dinner?” he asks, and I nod as my stomach growls.
I thought he’d take us to a restaurant, but when we arrive at what’s clearly a house, I raise my brow.
“I was hoping you’d let me cook for you.” He grins, looking down. “I can take you home, though, if you prefer.” The way he switches from confident to bashful has me letting my walls down. I reach out and squeeze his arm gently.
“Not at all. Show me what you got.” I open the passenger door and climb out, waiting for him. He looks a bit surprised but grins, leading me to his front door. It’s a cute little place, with a white picket fence and modern build. “I like the lights,” I say, pointing to the colorful Christmas decorations.
“I like this holiday,” he admits, pushing his front door open and gesturing for me to go inside before him. My eyes go wide as I take my first step through the door. Santa launched a nuke in this room. The large white couches have snowman pillows and snowflake blankets covering them.
“Wow,” I whisper as I look around. “You weren’t kidding, huh?” The mantel above the fireplace is covered in fake snow, with a little Christmas village taking up every possible inch. The tree is color themed, with a small amount of sentimental-looking ornaments peeking out from between the giant blue bows. I take a deep breath, humming. “Is the tree real?” I ask, stepping closer to get a better look. “It smells so good!”
“It is.” He nods, watching me as I admire his home. When he offers to take my jacket, I hand it to him distractedly. I’m still taking in the sight of his home. The staircase is decorated, the walls, and every available surface is as well. “Do you want the short version or the full story?” Eli asks, sounding vulnerable, so I spin around, facing him.
“Do you have wine?” I ask, lifting a brow. Eli nods, leading me into his kitchen. I follow eagerly. Once he’s handed me a hearty glass of white wine, I kick my shoes off and take a seat at the counter. He’s quiet at first, pulling things out of the fridge and cupboards.
“The full story is a bit of a trauma dump,” he admits quietly. He’s nervous, I realize.
“Should I go first?” I ask teasingly. He glances up from the mushroom caps he’s slicing and nods. “Well, let's see. I haven’t gotten a Christmas gift in five years. I used to hate this holiday because all it did was make me feel unwanted. I realized it wasn’t the holiday, just the people around me.” I laugh, but it’s dry. “Hell, I haven’t gotten a gift for my birthday since I was eighteen.” I shrug. I gather my thoughts as I sip my wine, then continue. “Compliments make me squirm. Insults feel more natural. Which is pathetic. Part of me wishes I was still home, and that confuses me. I shouldn’t miss a place that did so much damage. I shouldn’t miss the people who did the damage. But I do. I miss the person my mother once was. I miss… I miss a life that never even existed. A person that was just a lie. A facade to placate me. I miss a lie.” I wish away the emotions with a big swig of wine.
“Keep going,” Eli says after a minute, so I do.
“One of the first people I opened up to after I graduated from high school was a coworker. I was drawn to her because of how strong and independent she was. She was kind to me but kind of bitchy to others. I liked feeling special. On a rare occasion that I got to hang out with her outside of work, I got drunk with her and her roommate. I told her the story of my sixteenth birthday. The party wasn’t even for me, but a dog bit my stepfather. He…he hurt the dog. As I told the story, I cried. My stepdad has always been a bastard. My pain was because I couldn’t understand why my mother was choosing this man over me.”
“I’m sorry, Sapphire,” Eli whispers, reaching out to hold my hand. It gives me just enough courage to finish the story.
“My friend came from a stable home. Two parents who loved and adored her. Did everything to give her a good life. It showed in the way she respected herself. When I looked over at her, she was sobbing. I’ll never forget the look on her face that night. She wasn’t just horrified. She saw a darkness that night that she’d never been exposed to before me. She held me, crying harder than me. Crying for me. It was the first time I felt… I don’t even know the word. She was hurting for me, and it felt…” I shake my head. I don’t know the words.
“You felt seen. Understood. Validated. She was sad for you, and it felt good.” My eyes go wide at his words, but he smiles, walking around the counter to pull me into a hug. “It felt good to know it wasn’t all in your head. I didn’t mean to suggest you felt good about your friend being sad. I’m sure you wish you never told her?” he asks, and I agree.
“I did for a long time. It was like she saw a broken glass doll after that, every time she looked at me. Like she had pity-colored glasses on.”
“When we were kids, my sister got really sick. We thought she was going to…we thought it was her last Christmas,” he says, swallowing thickly. “She had cancer. We went all out that year. I mean, you think this is a lot? You should have seen my parents’ house that year. She was only four. My house looked like we teleported straight into the North Pole.” There’s a happiness in his tone, even as his eyes turn red.
“We look like we’re at the North Pole right now,” I tease gently, making him grin wider.
“We dressed up every day for weeks. We took her to see thousands of lights. We sang carols and watched movies on repeat. I’ve never seen my family so happy. I’ve also never seen them sadder. There was this cloud of darkness looming over us the entire month. But then the holiday passed. We left the decorations up for three months. Then she…she just started getting better.” His words are sad, but I can hear the hope he must have once felt, all those years ago.
“Take your time,” I whisper as he swallows hard before reaching for his own glass of wine.
“We spent every Christmas like that, for years. Even last year. She must have known the cancer was back. She never told anyone.” He steps away, digging through a drawer, before returning with a paper. “She left me this. Said she didn’t want to spend her last days watching us break.” He opens it, revealing the handwritten letter. “That she knew it would destroy us if we had to watch her die. That it would destroy her. She left me her bookstore. Left my brother her monster of a dog. Giant ass Saint Bernard. His name is Peanut.” He chuckles, shaking his head.
“That was very selfless of her. I’m sure she missed you all,” I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.
“My parents didn’t even know. They packed up and moved to Paris after the funeral. My brother still lives in our hometown with his best friends.” Eli takes a deep breath and returns to his cutting board.
