Page 63 of Entangled in Them

He nodded. “I told them about my wife and son, if that’s what you mean, but they both know I don’t like to think about my old life.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again, not knowing what else to say.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

I put my arms out to him, and we hugged each other tight. But when we released each other, there was a new heaviness between us, as though my bringing up his past had made us both acknowledge the truth of our future.

The fact was, no matter how much we might want it, we simply didn’t have one.

***

I WOKE THE FOLLOWING morning to an empty bed.

The apartment was quiet, and I sat up, wondering where everyone was. I didn’t remember them saying they were all going out. Perhaps they were working already. I hadn’t gotten a good look into their workspace, but I thought it was probably soundproofed, since I never heard anything that was going on in there. My glimpses through the crack in the door when the men had been entering and leaving was enough to tell me they had plenty of equipment that would make a discernable level of noise when it was all being used.

I opened the bedroom door, my hair mussed from sleep, rubbing my eyes.

“Surprise!” Three male voices called out.

I opened my eyes wider, wondering if I was dreaming. The apartment was filled with balloons of pink and yellow and blue and green. A banner was strung across the living room. A pile of prettily wrapped presents sat in the middle of the kitchen table.

“What is all this?” I asked in amazement.

Dillon, Ryan, and Kodee were all grinning at me.

“It’s your birthday party,” Dillon announced.

“It’s not my birthday.” I was baffled.

Ryan picked up a balloon and batted it toward me. “You said you didn’t even know when it was, and that you’d never celebrated, so we figured today was as good a day as any.”

I hit the balloon back and laughed, delight and happiness bubbling inside me. “So, I’m twenty-three years old today.”

Dillon came over and wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed me. “That sounds like a good age to me.”

I grinned at him. “Me, too.”

“Gifts,” Ryan said, gesturing at the table. “Come on, you have to open them. They’re all from all of us.”

I’d never been given presents before. I could hardly believe it. I set about unwrapping my gifts, tearing the paper and throwing it haphazardly to one side like a five-year-old.

One box revealed a snow globe of the city. I shook it and watched the flakes settle. The next gift was an impossibly soft scarf of gold and turquoise. Another was a device of some kind.

“What is it?” I asked turning it over in my hands.

“It’s an MP3 player. You can listen to audiobooks on it,” Ryan said. “I thought maybe if you listened while you read along, it might help you learn to read.”

I flushed with pleasure. “I love it, Ryan. Thank you.”

“Here, last one,” Dillon pushed a smaller box toward me.

This one wasn’t wrapped.

I opened the small, blue box and gasped. A silver pendent was nestled in the navy silk.

“It’s a Celtic quaternary knot. The symbol for four,” Dillon explained. “I thought each point could represent one of us.”

I traced the lines of the knot with my finger, noting how one section of the four points became the next and onward, until all four points were one piece.

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