Page 116 of Lotus

An hour later, we’re curled up on the couch together watchingGarfield Christmasafter drowning my sorrows in French toast and mimosas. Gabe is still sleeping, so it gives me time to fill Oliver in on my devastating conversation with Clementine.

But when he asks me who was responsible for the assault, my tongue freezes up.

I have no idea why. Oliver has every right to know why Bradford kidnapped him, but I can’t seem to get the name out. Not yet. It’s Christmas, and this truth bomb will rip him to shreds.

So, I lie to him, and a tiny piece of me withers away with guilt: “She wouldn’t tell me.”

I can’t say I entirely regret the decision because it’s an incredible morning. We’re able to push the traumatic ordeal aside in exchange for temporary peace, and we enjoy ourselves.

We enjoy our first Christmas together in over twenty-two years.

We’re sitting on Oliver’s bedroom carpet playing with Athena when there’s a knock on the door. “Yo,” Gabe calls out. “Merry Christmas, fuckers. Santa came.”

Sharing a grin, we join Gabe in the living room for our modest gift exchange. Gabe and I get each other the exact same thing every year: alcohol.

“Shit, Syd. This is killer,” he says, tearing apart the wrapping paper and holding out hisRémyMartin Cognac. He glances at me from the floor while Oliver and I snuggle on the couch. “Was this your grocery money? Are you on food stamps now?”

I toss a pillow at him. “Don’t be an ass. It may have been an entire weekend of tips, but my boyfriend happens to be a mighty fine chef. I’ll never starve again.” Nudging Oliver with my elbow, I sneak him a grin.

His eyes widen with alarm. “Boyfriend?”

“Duh. We exchange orgasms and collective loyalty.”

Gabe gags. “Dude. You’re going to make me start drinking early.”

“Orgasms,” I repeat in my most sensual voice, my eyebrows wiggling with seduction.

The pillow finds its way back to my face.

Oliver intervenes, reaching for the gift near his feet and handing it off to Gabe, who is still sticking his finger down his throat with theatrics. “Well, I suppose now is an acceptable time to gift you with my own token of gratitude.”

“Aw, shucks, man. You got me a present?”

“It’s not overpriced liquor, but funds were a bit scarce. I hope you enjoy them.”

Gabe plows through the meticulously wrapped gift with eager anticipation and pulls out…

Playboy magazines?

I snort-laugh, falling across Oliver’s lap as I watch the look of confusion wash over Gabe’s face while he stares at the magazines, turning them upside-down and inside out, just to confirm that he really did, indeed, receive nudie magazines from 2003 for Christmas.

Oliver tucks an arm around my waist as he fidgets, clearing his throat. “These were from my time in captivity. They were returned to me, along with my comics,” he explains. “I discovered some files on your computer that contained explicit video footage, so I concluded that you would enjoy looking through these booklets. I recall the material being quite stimulating.”

“Oliver!” I smack his thigh.

Gabe drops the magazines like they spontaneously caught on fire. “Jesus, if there are questionable stains, I swear to God I’m going to hurl…”

This only makes me laugh harder.

Oliver looks genuinely perplexed. “I assure you they are in good condition. There’s a blonde female on page thirty-three that—”

I smack him again. “Oliver! Christ, I don’t want to hear about this.”

Gabe immediately flips to page thirty-three, his eyes popping. “Well…”

“Okay, I’m breaking up the boner-bonding. You canenjoyyour gift later, Gabe.”

He sends a thumbs up in Oliver’s direction before leaning back on his palms and reaching for my gift beneath the tree. It’s wrapped like a bottle of champagne, so I’m delighted to discover that it’s a bottle of champagne.

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