Page 89 of Must Love Christmas

She brightened. “So Simon’s recovered enough to go to Greece?”

“No, I mean I’ll be in his bedwithhim. We’re kind of a thing. I mean, not ‘kind of.’ We’re a thing. He’s my boyfriend.” Garen reached over to his bedside table and picked up the wee electric torch. “He gave me this for an early Christmas gift. Funny story behind it. When we first met, I said—” He stopped, realizing his sister was merely blinking at him. “Karen, did you hear me?” He checked his earphones, rotating the microphone toward his mouth. “Have we lost sound?”

“Yes, I heard you. Are you daft?” She leaned in toward the camera. “You guys live together. What happens when you break up?”

“I don’t know.” He glanced at the closed door of his bedroom. As far as he knew, Simon was still in the living room working. “I’ve not thought that far ahead.”

“There’s a shock.”

“But what if we don’t break up? Like, ever?”

“I can’t remember the last time I heard you say that about someone.”

Garen couldn’t remember either. These past few years, he’d grown cynical about his ability to maintain a relationship. It was as though the moment he fell for a man, a time bomb began to tick inside his heart. When it went off, he didn’t stick around to pick up the pieces, just made a mad dash to escape the blast zone.

But with Simon, there was no ticking. Maybe that meant there was no bomb.

“Why is this guy different?” Karen asked.

Garen had lain awake last night contemplating this question. “He takes me out of myself. It’s a strange feeling, and I don’t always like it, but I can’t shut it off like I do with most people.”

“Why not?”

“I mean, we’re very different in all sorts of ways, and usually I use that as an excuse to give up on a relationship. But his illness—his disability—kinda forces reality through my thick skull. Without it, I’d probably carry on wearing my blinkers and assuming he sees the world the same way I do, that he wants and needs the same things in the same ways.” Garen fidgeted with the torch in his hand, flicking the light on and off. “And I probably do still act that way, especially with all this Christmas stuff, but I’m trying not to. With most people I wouldn’t even think to try.”

“Wow,” Karen said. “And how does Simon feel?”

“He’s not always easy to read.” Garen attempted his best guess. “But I’ve already made a million mistakes with him, and he seems to still think I’m worth it, to the point where I’m starting to think maybe…” His throat tightened a bit, so he had to force out the words. “Maybe Iamworth it.”

“If you’ve finally figured that out because of Simon, then I’m happy for you, even if he is your flatmate. He seems pure sweet, and he’s definitely cute.”

“I agree. So what’s your good news?”

“Wellllll…” She pressed her palms together in front of her chest, curling her fingertips in. “I’ve met someone too. His name is Nikolaj, and he teaches biology at my school.”

“Wait, you’re nipping my head about sleeping with a flatmate while meantime, you’re winching a coworker? Hypocritical much?”

“Come on, my history with guys is way less drama-filled than yours.”

She had a point. “I’m pure chuffed for you. How long have you been seeing Nikolai?”

“Nikolaj. Since the summer.”

“And you’re just now telling me?”

“See, that’s the difference between me and you,” she said. “I wait until it’s a sure thing before I start announcing my undying love.”

“Whoa, I didn’t say I—” Garen lowered his voice to a near-whisper. “I didn’t say I love Simon.”

“With your face you did, just a minute ago when you told me why he’s different.” She put her hands out to cut off further protest. “And before we start talking about you again…would you like to meet Nikolaj?”

“Yes, definitely.” Anything to change the subject from his own love life.

Karen beckoned someone behind the camera. In a moment, a stocky man with a magnificent head of black curls—and a beard to match—sat on the bed beside her.

“Hello, Garen,” Nikolaj said. “How are you?”

They chatted for ten minutes or so, mostly about teaching science to young children. Nikolaj was fluent in English, and Karen had to translate but a mere handful of phrases into Bulgarian. Garen noticed that she spoke English to Nikolaj with barely a trace of Scottish accent. It was like meeting a brand-new version of his sister.

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