Page 96 of Knot That Difficult

Ben believes in me, and I’m sure Connor and Ace do, too.

“Hey, Skye?” I say.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe it’s time to open those presents.”

* * *

We spreadevery package out on Tammy’s living room floor, and Skylar keeps swearing in excitement while April stares at them.

“There have to be over a hundred gifts here,” she says in awe. “What the hell.”

“It’s because presents are her love language,” Skylar adds. “So, it makes sense.”

April may have a pack of billionaires, but she doesn’t prefer to be showered in gifts, even though they would give her the world if she asked.

I, however, would love to be buried in presents.

My mouth actuallywatersas I stare at them.

I’ve never had so many gifts in my life, and every single one of them is precious to me, even though I haven’t opened them yet.

“Which one do you want to start with?” April asks, sitting next to me on the carpet. Skylar takes the other side, so I’m sandwiched between my two best friends.

As I stare at the pile of presents, more than I’ve ever seen in my life, I’m at a loss.

“You pick,” I tell her.

She hands me a pink box with a silver bow, and I start my present-opening journey.

Somehow, every single one is thoughtful and unique.

Candles from local, independent brands that smell like each of them. I open a hand-poured coffee-scented candle, a lavender scent, and a fresh linen one.

Cozy items, like a pink cashmere sweater and thick wool socks.

A plush Siamese cat to go with Wilson.

I treasure every single present I open.

Some are extravagant, including a rose gold bracelet, but none of it istoomuch.

“Wow,” Skylar says once we’re halfway through opening them. “It’s like they’ve known you forever. These are all perfect for you, Dev.”

April has created a tidy pile of gifts, while Skylar inspects them all, messing up April’s organizing.

But I don’t care. This is the most joy I’ve experienced in a week, and I’m surrounded by my best friends.

The only thing I’m missing is my pack.

“There’s something else you should have,” Tammy adds as she enters the living room. “These are for you.”

She places a pile of envelopes in my hands.

They’re all letters addressed to me in three different handwritings.

I gasp. “These are from them?” I breathe. “They wrote me all these in a week?”

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