Page 49 of Show Me How to Heal
Curious, I opened the box, my eyebrows raising.
Nope. They were shoes. All right.
Pretty shoes. A warm curry or mustard color with brown applications and a brown sole, the shoes seemed to be a go above the ankle. But they were so light.
Furrowing my brows, I lifted one of the shoes out of the box.
Very light.
And very flexible. The sole was all bendy and thin, while the cotton shoe seemed to be lined with felted wool on the inside.
I liked them. They definitely fit my style. I was just… maybe a little confused by his gift. Had I ever told him I needed new shoes? I didn’t think so. In fact, I don’t think we ever talked about shoes.
As I looked into the shoebox again to grab the second shoe, I found a flier from the manufacturer.
Minimal shoes.
I blinked. I was vaguely aware of having heard the term before, but up until reading the whole flier, I didn’t get it. They were supposed to give you the feeling of walking barefoot.
Something warm unfurled in my chest as I eyed the shoes, a memory from last week coming to the surface of my mind. Me, standing right here in the shop, moaning because my feet were raw, and I had a blister. Telling him how much I hated wearing shoes all day, but that it wasn’t a viable option to just walk around barefoot all the time. Luke leading me towards his stool, gently pushing me down on it before getting down on his knees to carefully take off my shoes. He’d been in pain kneeling in front of me. He hadn’t said anything, hadn’t let a single sound escape, but I’d seen the strain on his face, a bead of sweat forming on his temples. I’d seen how hard it’d been for him to get up to get the first aid kit. He’d taken care of my blisters and chided me for not taking proper care of myself.
And now he’d gotten me minimal shoes.
That were supposed to feel like walking barefoot. And were in a color I loved that fit with most of the clothes I wore.
Wait… did he…
I looked inside one of the shoes, feeling a small pang when I realized they were a size bigger than I usually wore, but they really didn’t look that big.
For a moment, I contemplated trying them on right then and there before realizing that I’d been walking around in my shoes all day.
They were sweaty.
Yeah, hard no.
I opted for going to the back, taking my shoes off, and washing my feet in the employee bathroom. I had a spare pair of socks — and shoes — in my locker, so I grabbed the socks before walking back out front, sliding into the minimal shoes for the first time, and… they fit. Comfortably so. I had a little space in them, but the flier said you were supposed to have about half an inch of space in the front, so it was perfect.
Not only did they fit, but they also felt good. The lightness was a little weird, as was the feeling of a missing footbed. I was so used to having one that wearing a shoe without the snug feeling was confusing. But not bad. Not at all.
Damn.
The warmth in my chest grew bigger and bigger, flowing through my veins, spreading through my whole body.
This had to be the most thoughtful gift since… maybe ever.
He’d listened to me, he’d thought about what I’d like, he’d somehow even managed to not only find out what size I wore but also anticipated I’d need a size up.
My throat closed up, a chill cooling the warmth within me.
I wanted Luke with me, at The Bar, celebrating with me and my friends. Now more than ever.
Finding my friends in The Bar was not a hardship.
There were balloons, and flowers, and paper streamers, and a garland, and…confetti.
Pretty sure Chris was going to hate me come tomorrow and clean-up.
“There he is!” Corey shouted, grinning from ear to ear, raising his glass in triumph. “Congratulations, man!”
