Page 173 of Off the Pitch

“I know, but I couldn’t resist. I love spoiling you too much.”

“You’re adorable.”

“I know.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing extravagant. It’s a very traditional Valentine’s present.” He grabbed a pair of soft grey pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt out of the drawer, pulling them on quickly. “Come with me.”

Hugo took my hand, leading me back downstairs. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned to me. “Close your eyes.” I did, letting him lead me through to the large open-plan living room. “Okay, so technically there are two parts to your present,” Hugo said. “The first one is in here, and the second one is outside.” He took my hand, and I shivered as his lips brushed across my knuckles. “Open your eyes.”

I blinked, looking around. It wasn’t hard to spot my present. The low wooden coffee table was covered in a massive bouquet of flowers. They weren’t traditional pink and red Valentine’s roses though. It was a chaotic explosion of colour—vibrant oranges and yellows mixed with hot pinks and dark purple calla lilies, that sat amongst a gorgeous mix of green foliage and small white flowers that made the colours even brighter.

“Oh, Hugo, they’re beautiful! Thank you.” I turned to him, pulling him into a deep kiss before hurrying to examine them. I wanted to take them up to my studio to try and capture the colours before they faded. I wasn’t usually one for still life, but these were so beautiful I wanted to try.

“Before you get too distracted, come here a moment,” Hugo said. He stood by the windows, looking at something. I went to him, letting him fold me in his arms as I followed his gaze. A tree sapling stood in a pot out on the patio.

“It’s an apple tree,” Hugo said. “I remembered you saying how sad it was that our garden didn’t have many trees. So, I bought you one. And I thought an apple tree would be good because we can make puddings from the fruit.” He looked almost embarrassed, as if he was worried he’d made the wrong choice and bought something I didn’t want. I stared at him, my heart overflowing with emotions, not really knowing what to say.

“You… you remembered.” It had been a silly, offhand comment I’d made not long after we’d moved in. The garden was beautiful, but it was all manicured lawns and pastel flower beds, designed to be looked at and admired but not enjoyed. I loved gardens that were a little bit wild, running over with flowers and fragrant herbs and trees rustling in the breeze. I’d lamented that we had no trees in the garden beyond the ones that lined the front drive, and the only way I could sit under them would be to sit on the gravel. I’d toyed with the idea of buying a couple, just to break up the monotony of the flower beds, but it had been mid-December and I’d filed the idea away for the spring and left it there. But Hugo had remembered.

“Thank you,” I said, my hands cradling his jaw. “It’s perfect. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“I’ll always remember everything about you.” The smile on his face filled my heart with joy. How had I found someone so utterly perfect?

“Je t’aime,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his.

“I love you too.” We stood there for a moment, lost in our own little world, until a small part of my brain began prodding me.

“I have to confess,” I said, “I didn’t get you a present. Well, not really. I did get something special to eat. I just have to assemble it.”

“Is that why I’m forbidden from going in the fridge?”

“Yes. Now,” I said, stepping back before I got far too distracted by Hugo’s mouth again, “please go away, or at least go into another part of the house so you won’t try to peek.”

Hugo laughed. “I’m being banished from my own kitchen?”

“Yes. I’ll call you when you can come back down.”

“I can’t wait.” Hugo gave me another kiss before ambling towards the stairs. I knew he’d probably go and lie on our bed and read one of the cheesy pulp novels he bought in charity shops. Despite the fact that Hugo could easily buy a whole book shop, his favourite hobby seemed to be raiding charity bookshops for old thrillers and terrible sci-fi novels and buying them by the bucketload.

I waited until he’d disappeared upstairs, then I hurried back to the kitchen. Taking the platter with the cheese, fruit, and charcuterie out of the fridge, I carefully unwrapped each piece, arranging them artfully on the board with little piles of grapes and figs in between. The platter wasn’t quite as big as I remembered, so I ended up having to squash the meat into the gaps, but it looked vaguely artistic so I was hoping Hugo wouldn’t notice.

I’d debated serving it down here, but since Hugo was upstairs, the idea of a bedroom picnic swirled lazily into mind. It could be quite fun, and at least we wouldn’t have to go far when we were full of food. Now I just had to work out how to get everything upstairs without dropping it.

It was going to take two trips. That was the only way.

Placing the crackers and cheese knives on a plate, I carried them in one hand, tucked a bottle of raspberry lemonade in the crook of my arm, and pinched two glasses in the other hand. It wasn’t the easiest journey, but I made it.

“Close your eyes,” I called out as I sidled into our room. As I predicted, Hugo was lying on our bed, propped up on a mountain of pillows holding a well-thumbed paperback. “Stay there. Don’t move and don’t look.” I hurriedly placed everything on the floor, grabbing a blanket off the nearby armchair and spreading it across the carpet. “I’ll be back in one second. Please keep your eyes closed.”

I heard Hugo chuckling as I ran back down the stairs at breakneck speed, almost going flying as I skidded across the floor. “Ooft,” I groaned as I smacked into the side of the sofa. “That’ll teach me to run downstairs.”

I mentally ran through everything as I made my way to the kitchen, carefully collecting the platter with both hands. I’d left the heart-shaped cheese wrapped in its wax and placed it in the centre of the slate. It looked rather cute.

True to his word, Hugo had stayed in place. I couldn’t help taking one long look at him and smiling as I stood in the doorway. He was so utterly perfect, and I loved him with every fiber of my being.

“Surprise,” I said. His eyes flicked open, delight spreading instantly across his face as he realised what I was holding. Any nerves I’d felt about making the wrong choice melted away. “Happy Valentine’s Day, beloved. I thought we could have a bedroom picnic.”

I held out the cheese board and gestured to the blanket with my foot, laughing as Hugo leapt up. He practically skipped across the room, his eyes wide with joy.

“Oh my God.” He took the plate from me, almost reverently, and folded himself down onto the blanket, refusing to let it go. “You got all my favourites!”

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