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Some days I’d catch him watching me with a look of disappointment, but then he’d quickly adopt a simulated smile before asking if I wanted takeout, or if I’d seen some missing item of his. His items never went missing.
It was the same smile he’d always worn, I realized, even while telling me he loved me.
“Are you happy, Daniel?”I’d asked one day out of the blue, finally ready to hear the truth.
“Of course, sweetheart,”he’d said.
And there goes that smile again,I’d thought.
Leaving those ruminations behind for the moment, I dug through the paperwork on the coffee table for my phone, confirming I had an hour until Sofia arrived to go over our closing arguments on a case she’d come out of her fake retirement to help me with.
Daniel was away on business and wouldn’t be home for a few days, so I’d invited her over rather than lugging everything to her place.
Something thumped onto the floor, and I peeked over the side of the table from my spot on the couch, to see Franklin’s Christmas gift. He’d left it behind, along with my mother’s final journal entry. The gift was still wrapped, the journal entry still sealed in its envelope.
While my conversation with Franklin had gone a long way, and I could feel repairs within me happening day by day, I hadn’t yet unearthed the courage to deal with the heavy emotion I knew those two items would spur, especially since he’d hinted that even the gift had something to do with my mother.
“Merry Christmas,”he’d said.“Although I had little to do with the gift itself, other than hand-wrapping it personally.”
“I can tell,”I’d said with a slanted grin, examining the wrinkled patchwork of paper held together by duct tape.
Every day without fail, I brought them out of hiding to keep me company as I worked, hoping one day I’d glance over at them and say,“Today is the day.”
Knuckles rapped on the door, which wasn’t a shocker since Sofia tended to be overly punctual.
“Hey, bestie,” she exclaimed, holding up a bottle of champagne. I chuckled, moving aside to let her in.
She hung her coat then went to the fridge to store the bottle, as I stepped over file boxes and scattered sheets of paper to retake my seat.
“It’s a mess in here,” she noted, moving a stack of binders off the seat across from me. “Is Daniel going to keel over when he sees this place?”
“Probably,” I said, looking around, then shrugging. Sofia laughed conspiratorially, and I joined in.
“Okay, Jasper Des Moines attorney at law, where are we?” She plucked an evidence folder off the table, thumbing through its contents.
“It’s just Jasper to you,” I said, affectionately. I’d started my own practice. I didn’t have office space, or a steady influx of clients, or employees on payroll yet—because Sofia helped me for free. But my business had a name, and thanks to my best friend, I also had stationary with my firm imprint on it. It was a start.
We worked for a few hours, then came up for air and a glass of expensive champagne.
“Wow,” I said, after my first sip, raising the bottle for inspection. “You splurged on the good stuff.”
“Eh,” she said, waving me off. “Hubby won it in a Christmas raffle at work. The thing’s been sitting under the kitchen sink ever since. He’s more of a Hennessey kind of guy.”
Christmas.My gaze scanned the table, landing on the pen Cole had gifted me. His way of reminding me to follow my dreams, even if he couldn’t be the one to remind me himself.
“I’ve got something to show you,” Sofia said carefully, setting her glass on her coaster, then removing a magazine from her handbag. It was the latest issue of Modern Medicine Magazine. Cole graced the black and white cover, appearing pensive and shirtless, the letter X drawn over his heart in black sharpie. The headline read “Matters of the Heart.”
I snatched it from her hand before thinking, my cheeks burning, but Sofia pretended not to notice.
I flipped through the pages when all I wanted to do was slobber over the cover image. That would have to wait for when she left. Hopefully, she’d forget the magazine on her way out.
“There’s more shots on page sixty. The accompanying article starts on page sixty-eight.” She topped off our glasses. “I don’t see what having him oiled up with muscles on display has to do with the artificial heart, but it definitely draws the eye, that’s for sure. Guess that’s the point. Sell copies first, content later. He mentions Bystanders,” she said.
“Does he?”
“Um-hm. Donations have been pouring in non-stop, too. We’ll be able to start up the housing arm of the foundation.”
“That’s great, ’Fia.” I tried to sound happy, and I was. Sadness lurked, too, though. I hadn’t seen him since Christmas Eve, hadn’t uttered his name unless it was to get myself off. Hadn’t held a conversation involving him unless it was to make some excuse to Daniel as to why we hadn’t hung out in a while.
