Page 43 of Guarded from Danger

“Xavier.” It’s lightly scolding, but softened by a smile. “Like I’d hate anything you did. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“Well.” He makes a little face. “I hope so.”

As he sets his hand on the doorknob, he hesitates. Tension tightens his shoulders. Then, on an exhale, he opens the door.

All I can do is stare.

It’s a library.

Not just any library. But like Xavier reached into my head and pulled out the room I’ve always dreamed about. Things I’ve never mentioned wanting, but are magically here.

It’s incredible.

Clutching Xavier’s hand, my head’s on a swivel, taking it all in.

The floor to ceiling bookshelves on two walls, stocked with books and little flowering plants and literary inspired signs and figures. There’s a tiny statue of Tigger on one shelf, next to a collection ofWinnie the Pooh, which I told Xavier was my favorite series when I was little. Beside my originalAnne of Green Gablesbooks, there’s a hand-drawn illustration of Prince Edward Island. And on the shelves filled with the books I wrote, there’s a little sign that says,creativity is a magical thing.

“Xavier,” I whisper, my throat too tight to speak louder.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

In the corner, there’s the giant reading chair I’ve been lusting over for months, large enough to easily seat three people. And on another wall, a light wood desk that matches the bookshelves, with my laptop and every conceivable writing supply I could need—notebooks and Post-its and dozens of pens and pencils.

And on the walls…

Oh.

I cover my mouth with my hand as I move closer. “Xavier?—”

“Is it too much?” he asks. “I just thought… so many people love your work. And I thought you might like to see what they said.”

He found reviews of my books and framed them, arranging them in small clusters around the room. All lovely things written by readers saying how much the book meant to them, or how they related to a character, or how reading it helped them through a tough time. It’s been a long time since I let myself look at reviews, learning the hard way how crushing they can be, but seeing them like this…

“Oh, Xavier.” Tears burn behind my eyes. “This is incredible. I can’t believe you did all this.”

He takes both my hands as he looks down at me, and I’ve never been more certain of how he feels about me than right now, with his emotions on full display. “Luce. I want you to feel at home here. And you deserve a space to be comfortable. To read and relax. To write.”

There’s a twinge in my chest. “I’m not… I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back to writing,” I admit quietly. “The ideas… they’re not there right now.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to. Just read in here, then. Or take a nap. Or… practice poker.” Xavier smiles. “It’s your space to use however you want.”

Oh.

How did I get so lucky?

Love builds inside me, this incredible joy and warmth and indescribable feeling that feels better than anything else in the world.

“I think I know what I want to use the room for first.”

“Oh?” Xavier brushes a soft kiss across my lips. “What do you want to do? Read? I got some of your favorite snacks; I could make up a tray?—”

“No. That’s not it.”

“A nap?”

“Nope.” I pop the P, smiling as he looks at me quizzically.

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