T he weekend of my birthday was spent unpacking, though it wasn’t anything to do with lifting heavy boxes or placing furniture. All anyone would let me do was direct movers to rooms with boxes and carefully put one book on a shelf at a time. Oddly enough, the task exhausted me faster than I thought it would.
We’d closed on the courtyard condo. Kelly and I ponied up enough cash for a down payment that made our rent reasonable. Now we had a home that was safe for both of us, close to Gabe and Jamie, and yet a sanctuary when we needed time in our own space. Or maybe that was just me.
A slew of Jamie’s muscular friends took my things from storage and moved them into the apartment. Kelly’s mom bought him a brand-new bedroom set for his room. He’d unpacked in a hurry and never looked so happy to be free of the campus. I wondered if he was getting more trouble than he told us about.
Unpacking the books should have been easy, but most were in boxes at Gabe’s. I’d taken a few of my favorites from him, giving him the rest of my bookcases and more reasons for me to visit him. Like being ten feet and an elevator away wasn’t close enough.
Gabe had the walls of my new place painted in earth tones, calming browns, greens, and blues, even the kitchen. Kelly had bought a live tree, one that was supposed to grow in a pot, and put it beside the patio door. Gabe added a chaise beside the tree similar to the one downstairs. It had already become my second-favorite place to read. My first being curled up beside him. Sometimes he just came up to curl up with me on the chaise while I read, and he seemed to doze. I think being close to me was as comforting for him as it was for me to be near him.
“There’s a package,” Kelly said as he came in the door with bags of groceries. He set a small box on the counter. “Do you want me to take it to Gabe?”
They still scanned my mail, e-mail, and phone for nasty messages, though most of that had gone silent. I picked up the package and pulled at the tape. It was filled with packing peanuts. A letter sat on top. I flipped it open and read the handwritten scrawl:
Seiran,
You were right. I’m sure you know that. I’m so sorry. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.
Sam
P.S. I heard you were looking for this. I hope it makes up for some of the pain you went through.
I dumped out the packing peanuts, and a bundle of white thunked out. My heart beat faster, horrible thoughts running through my head of what could possibly be under all that gauze. Unwrapping it in a hurry, I left pieces of bubbles and tape on the counter. Kelly came up beside me.
“That’s kind of freaky,” he said.
Tears formed in the corners of my eyes. I rushed to my room to pull a long box out from under my bed. The shattered pieces of doll head inside had once looked like this. I put the doll together, even taking time to adjust the strings. By the time he was complete and dressed, Gabe stood in the doorway staring at me with questions on his face. The note was in his grasp, so obviously he’d read it.
“Everything okay?”
“I’m good,” I told him. “Wanna go skiing?”
He smiled, crossed the room, and kissed me. “I’m thinking we’ll spend more time in front of the fire, but anywhere I need to get up close and cuddle with you is just fine with me.”
“I love you, Gabe. Don’t ever leave me.”
“Never,” he promised.