The three hanging stockings that I’d stitched sequins onto the night before, spelling out the first letters of each of our names. Black for Aiden, green for Zac, and gold for me.
Eventually, he tore his gaze away from the stockings and asked, “Need help?”
I’m not going to take this personally, I told myself. “Sure.” I held out the box I’d just opened in his direction.
Aiden took it, glancing from the decorations to the tree and back at me. “Where do you want them to go?”
“Wherever.”
Taking a step closer to the object of our decorative talents, he shot me a look. “Where do you want them to go, Van? I’m sure you had it planned out.”
I did, but I wasn’t going to give my help any shit. “Anywhere as long as they aren’t too close together… Really. I just don’t want them close together… And maybe keep them toward the top since those are small. Big ornaments go closer to the bottom.”
The sides of his mouth twitched, but he nodded seriously and went to work.
We stood there in front of the tree for the next hour, side by side. His arm brushed mine, my hip brushed his, and more than a couple of times, he caught me trying to climb up on the stool before he plucked whatever ornament I had in my hand and put it up himself. Neither one of us said much.
But once we were done, we took a couple steps back and took the seven feet of gloriousness all in.
I had to say, it was beautiful even if it looked a lot smaller with Aiden next to it. Red and gold with hints of green here and there, glass ornaments hanging from long branches, ribbon circling it—it was the kind of tree I’d dreamed about as a kid. I glanced at Aiden. His face was clean and thoughtful, and I wondered what he was thinking about. Instead though, I went with a safer question. “What do you think?”
His nostrils flared just a little and a soft, soft, soft smile perked up the corners of his mouth. “It looks like something from a department store.”
I rubbed at my arm and smiled. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
The firm man nodded. “It’s nice.”
It’s nice? From Aiden? I’d take it as ‘it’s amazing’ from just about anyone else. The more I looked at it, the more I liked it, the happier it made me, and the more grateful I was for all I had to be thankful for.
Thanks to Aiden, I was living in a wonderful house. Thanks to Aiden, I had money to buy the decorations, ornaments, and the tree. And thanks to Aiden, I had managed to save up enough money to pursue my dreams.
Maybe we hadn’t been soul mates, and maybe he really hadn’t cared about what I added to his life until I was gone, but I had so much because of him. And I would continue to have so much because of him too. That knowledge softened the hurt from an hour ago enough for me to clear my throat and say, “Ai—”
He interrupted me. “Are you putting up lights outside?”
* * *
“You did it all today?”
“Yep.” We’d done it all in a matter of hours.
After having to visit two different stores to buy enough Christmas lights to decorate the house, the trips had definitely ended up being worth it. Round, blue LED lights outlined the roof and garage. Two different individual packages of lights had to be used to wrap around the pillar by the front door. Another box was used to go around the big window, and I’d twined more lights through the branches of the tree in the front yard.
“You and Aiden did this?” Zac then asked, his arms crossed over his chest. I’d been outside putting up the last of the lights when he’d pulled his truck into the garage.
“Uh-huh. He even got on the roof with me even though I kept telling him to get back in the house before he fell off or one of the neighbors called the team and told them what he was doing.” There were specific things in his contract he was prohibited from doing: riding anything with wheels, including but not limited to motorcycles, scooters, mopeds, Segways, hoverboards, and skateboards. He couldn’t do anything that required a waiver, i.e. skydiving. And there was also a specific note in his contract that said he wasn’t allowed anywhere near fireworks.
I’d read his contract one day when I found it in a saved folder on his computer and I’d been bored.
Aiden’s exact response to me trying to shoo him off had been: “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Sometimes, I really wanted to choke him out for being so stubborn. Then again, he’d been the one to bring up putting Christmas lights up when I hadn’t prepared for it, simply because I didn’t want to do it all alone.
Zac snickered, his hands in his pockets. “I’m not surprised. How long did it take?”
“Three hours.”
He glanced at his watch and frowned. “How early did he get home?”
Anddddd that reminded me what he’d done, what he’d said. I frowned and muttered, “Right after twelve,” knowing that was going to reel him in.
Hook, line, and sinker. “How come? Those Monday mornin’ defense meetings usually last ‘til two.”
I punched him in the arm. “You tell me, big mouth.”
Nosey McNoserson immediately perked up. “What I do?” He’d barely asked the question when his eyes went a little wide and that chin went right back down, his ears seeming to perk up.
“You told him about Christian, you snitch. You know what happens to snitches?”
“They get stitches?”
I punched him again. “Yes! He got into a fight with him today.”
Zac’s lip dropped, and he gaped. Honestly, I loved Zac. I really did. “No!”
Okay, he got on my nerves for telling Aiden what had happened, but he was still so funny it was unreal. “Yes! He got into a fight with him!” Zac’s mouth went even wider, his blue eyes darting from one side to the other like he couldn’t handle what I was telling him. “He got—”
“Aiden?”
“Yes.”
“Our Aiden?”
I nodded solemnly.
Zac still didn’t believe me. “You sure?”
“He told me. He has the bruises to prove it.”
“No. He wouldn’t.” He looked away and then looked back at me. “Aiden?”
“Yes.”
He opened his mouth and then closed it. “I don’t know…” His lips moved but nothing came out. “He doesn’t…“
“I know. I know he doesn’t.”
“What the hell took him so long? I told him a week ago,” he suddenly noted in exasperation.
Good gracious. He was making faces because Aiden had taken too long. Uh. “Because when I went to the Thanksgiving Day game, Christian called me honey or something, and was just being a creeper in general—wait. It doesn’t matter. Why did you say anything to him anyway? I told you that as friends. Circle of trust.”
Zac huffed and gave me a look that resembled one of Aiden’s a little too closely. “Why wouldn’t I tell him?”
“Because it didn’t matter.”
Yeah, he was definitely giving me one of Aiden’s faces. “If I was the one you were married to, I’d want him to tell me.”
“Traitor.” That made sense, but I wasn’t going to admit it.