Page 40 of Wrap Around
I can't tell her that I love him—that Istilllove him. That I've always loved him. That I don't know how to stay away from him.
It's silent for a long time. When I look over at Lily again, she's studying me silently. She looks like she has something to say, maybe something important, like she knows what I did or where my thoughts have gone. Instead, she looks back at Silas, her voice low and wistful. "He saved me, you know. He was there when I needed it the most, and he's suffered for it. But he saved me. All I want now is to be able to do the same for him. But he won't talk to me."
I watch her warily, not sure if I should say anything or apologize or confess.
"Will you watch out for him, Gideon?"
Uh, what?
"Me?"
She nods. "You've always been the person he loves the most, you know. It broke him when you left. I almost thought…" her words trail off. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. Then she looks directly into my eyes. "He needs to know that he has people who will love him no matter what."
My mouth is dry, and it takes everything in me not to break eye contact. What if she looks too deep and sees my shame?
"I know you two had your little tiff over what happened to me, but you can't keep holding on to that."
A multitude of emotions rush through me as she pats my hand softly and walks over to join her husband in a crowd of people laughing about a story Coach's wife is telling. The first is indignation. I don't appreciate feeling chastised over holding onto my anger the way I have. She doesn't know the truth of what happened, or why I was so upset over our little tiff, as she called it. She makes it sound inconsequential, unimportant. But at the same time, I feel relief that she really doesn't know. Because for a moment, it almost felt like she knew much more than I ever gave her credit for.
I watch as she slips in next to Silas and wraps one arm around his waist. He looks down at her with a fond smile and kisses the top of her head. Her husband. The love of my life. The man she says is suffering, without realizing that he's the one who broke me.
It guts me.
I toss my half-full beer in the trash and nod my goodbyes to anyone I pass on my way out. I need to get out of here before the storm raging inside me becomes something I can't hold in anymore.
The next few days, I do my best to stay busy. I'm building a playhouse for Adaline in my garage, pouring every last ounce of restless energy into sanding, sealing, and painting. The end result is a way more detailed finished product than I originally planned. It looks like a real house, only toddler sized.
My plan was to sneak it into their backyard on Christmas Eve, but I realize while I'm trying to load it into the back of my truck that I'm going to need some help. When I call Lily to let her know I'll be messing around in her backyard with a stranger, she insists I come over and let Silas help. Before the call has ended, I've somehow agreed to stay for dinner and spend the night. She wants me there for Addy's first real Christmas morning. It wouldn't be right without "M'uncle Gid-On", after all.
So I pack an overnight bag, load the playhouse, and drive over.
There's already snow piled high along the sidewalk, and more coming down fast. Getting it into the backyard undetected would have been impossible on my own.
Silas meets me outside, looking like he can barely move in his huge puffy coat and thick gloves. He doesn't say much, just nods and grabs the other side of the wooden house to help me haul it through the open fence gate and into the backyard. He gestures with his chin to keep going and guides me under the roof that covers their porch. The little house will be protected from the elements there.
We work in silence to get the house in position. While I'm removing the tape and straps I used to secure the doors and windows, Silas pulls out a little green carpet and a plastic mailbox.
I huff a laugh before I can stop it. "That's cute."
Silas' lips twitch into a flicker of a smile, pushing his hands back into his pockets. "Let's go inside. It's freezing."
Inside, we hang up our coats and step out of our boots. My face stings at the rush of heat, the skin on my cheeks and nose thawing too fast. It smells warm and slightly fruity, and I angle my nose up to try to guess what I'm smelling.
"Want to try somevin chaud?" Silas asks, struggling with the pronunciation.
I blink and wait for him to translate.
"I'm probably butchering the name," he laughs. "It's hot mulled wine. Ives and his husband gave us a bottle and some spices and instructions for Christmas. Lily put some in the crock pot before taking Addy upstairs for a nap. She thought it would be nice to warm us up after getting the playhouse set up, and there's some fancy stuff to snack on, too."
The mention of Ives and his husband makes me tense for a moment, and I hesitate when I realize Lily and Addy aren't around. But I need to relax. A cup of hot wine sounds weird as hell, but it can't hurt to try it. Nodding, I let Silas lead the way. In the kitchen, the smells are even stronger. Silas pours the steaming drink into mismatched mugs. The first sip is odd. I wasn't expecting it to be sweet, but then the flavors of cinnamon and citrus burst over my tongue and I almost moan. At just the first sip, I feel warmed from the inside out.
"It's nice, right?" Silas says, looking into his mug like he's as surprised as I am.
I nod and take another sip. I'll need to slow down or find something else to distract myself with, otherwise I'm in danger of drinking too much. I take one more deep sip, let the warmth sink into my chest and bones, and finally say the words I need to get out.
"I'm sorry."
My voice is low and soft, and I don't look at him directly. I don't clarify and he doesn't need me to. He knows what I mean.
