Page 2 of Gift of You
In the dark weeks that followed Allison’s passing, I’d considered selling the shop. There wasn’t a single inch of that store that wasn’t filled with her spirit, making it nearly impossible to breathe every time I set foot inside. But it was for that very reason that I held on. Letting go of the shop felt like letting go ofher, and I wasn’t ready to do that just yet.
I clicked my tongue, signaling for Ernie to follow, and with a sigh that bore the weight of fourteen months of grief, I started up the stairs, but pulled up short at the sound of a commotion outside. I paused, ears straining for some indication that I wasn’t hearing things, but when silence descended once again, I continued on my route, crediting the sound to a raccoon or some other wildlife outside.
At the top of the steps, I punched in the code unlocking the door to my apartment, and stepped inside. At just under eight hundred square feet, it was a cozy space with one bedroom one bathroom, a tiny kitchen, and a small living room. It hadn’t looked like much when we’d moved in, but Ally had added homey touches that made it feel warm and inviting. Not that anyone but me ever came up here. Allison had been everyone’s best friend while I had become more reclusive than ever following her passing. No one knew what to say to a forty-year-old grieving his wife anyway.
Ernie the cat, named after Ernest Hemingway, wound his way through my legs, begging for second dinner. Sucker that I was, I poured out a few morsels of dry food into his bowl, then walked back into the bedroom to change into some sweats. More comfortable, I picked up the book I was due to record off my nightstand and headed back out to the living room to read in my recliner. The author’s PA had sent a digital file of the book yesterday, but for my first read-through I preferred to read the old-fashioned way, from a physical book.
This particular author was new to me, but I was acquainted with his PA, and when she’d reached out to me in a panic because the original narrator they’d booked had left them hanging, I’d reluctantly agreed to help them out.
Narrating had been all Allison’s idea. She’d always said I had a voice for it, and once she latched onto something it was hard getting her to let go. As a joke, I’d made an amateur recordingof her favorite romance novel using my iPhone, and had gifted it to her on her birthday. Unbeknownst to me, she’d sent a sample off to a production company, and next thing I knew I’d been contracted for a four-book series. We’d had words over that one, but I never had been able to tell her no, so I’d gone through with it and had discovered I actually enjoyed the work.
Once upon a time, I’d been one of those assholes who turned his nose up at romance novels, but after narrating that first series, I’d been hooked. Falling in love was such a massive part of the human condition. Everyone accepted music written about love, so why shouldn’t there be books written about it too? And the fact that most romances included sex... well, it was all connected, wasn’t it?
Plus, it had been a nice source of income during the years when we were getting the store up and running, and had been even more imperative when the medical bills had started rolling in.
I opened the book to chapter four, where I’d left off. I’d only narrated one other book since Ally’s passing, and had barely been able to finish it. Narrating a romance after losing the love of my life had been too hard, the grief too raw. The only reason I’d agreed to do this one was because it was a gay male pairing. I thought that might make it more bearable. I’d be able to detach myself from the story since I didn’t identify that way.
So far my theory was correct, and I found I was actually enjoying myself. I’d even laughed once or twice at the snarky banter between the two main characters. I read one chapter, then another, but by the third, I found my eyes starting to cross. I was debating whether to get up and head for bed when Ernie climbed into my lap, curled himself up, and went to sleep.
That settled it. Looked like I was sleeping in the chair tonight.
3
LOUIS
My cheeks were flushed,and I wasn’t sure if it was due to being overheated or from imbibing too much champagne. I’d always been a sucker for the bubbly even though it typically went straight to my head. But it was a wedding after all, and when in Rome...
I took another sip as I surveyed the guests filling the small space. Hayden and Jonathan had chosen to marry at their remote cabin, insisting it was tradition. After all, it was where they’d first fallen for each other after being trapped there together in a snow storm, and later where Jonathan had proposed. I agreed that itwaspretty damn romantic, but the size of the space meant that even with a smaller, intimate wedding including only immediate family members, there was barely room to move.
It was also roughly eighty degrees in here.
“What are you doing standing over here in the corner? Nobody puts Louis in the corner!” Hayden approached, holding out a fresh glass of champagne for me to take. I drained the rest of my current glass, then gladly accepted the fresh one.
“Ordinarily, I would agree, but this corner is next to a wall of drafty windows, which I desperately needed for fear of overheating.”
“You could try losing the jacket and loosening up the tie.” He gestured toward his own shirt, open at the collar with the first two buttons undone. Hayden and his husband Jonathan had worn matching black-velvet suit jackets, though Hayden’s pocket square and tie had been red while Jonathan’s had been green. I had no doubt it had been Hayden’s idea as a nod to the upcoming Christmas holiday. Something so corny wouldn’t be Jonathan’s style, but he was an absolute simp for anything Hayden wanted, and had no doubt put up very little argument. I wasn’t sure when he’d discarded the items, though. Likely sometime after their first dance.
I gave a mock shudder. “Absolutely not. It took me a week to perfect this ensemble for tonight, and I refuse to take it off until the night has come to an end. Although I’m sure I’ll be removing the items myself, since it doesn’t seem like any of your guests are up for the task of doing it for me.”
He laughed, his eyes twinkling with merriment. “My apologies for not having any gay singles on the family tree.”
“Apology accepted,” I said, readjusting my glasses with feigned haughtiness. “I don’t think you could have fit one more person in here anyway.”
“You’re so full of shit,” Hayden said, chuckling, and I broke the facade, laughing along with him—though I had meant every bit of what I said about choosing my outfit. It had taken me a full week of hopping from store to store after work to find the perfect tie. I took great pride in my appearance, as any gay worth his salt should. “You never told me why you were late,” Hayden said, changing the subject.
“I wasn’tthatlate... but if you must know, I managed to make it up here without my toiletries and didn’t discover the oversight until I was already in the shower.”
He gasped in dramatic fashion, no doubt mocking me as he clutched my forearm with his free hand. “What did you do?”
“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” I said, brushing his hand off my arm. “I borrowed from the gentleman next door.”
His eyebrows rose. “Mid-shower?”
I did my best to ignore the flush rising into my cheeks. “If you must know, yes.”
A laugh burst out of him, causing several people to turn and look at us. “Will you stop it? It’s not that funny.”
“It’s hilarious,” he said, oblivious to the stares around us. “Who was the neighbor? Remind me where you’re staying again.”
