The Feeling Checklist

27

"You didn't have to get me anything, you know," he says as he removes the tissue paper.

I remain silent as I watch him remove the little velvet bag, my heart racing from my nerves. I've never gotten a present for a boyfriend before, and as he pulls back the strings and takes out the leather bracelet, I feel like I might puke.

He runs his thumb over the tiny candied yams symbol, a smile instantly falling onto his face.

"Flip it over," I say.

He does as he's told and blinks a few times before reciting, "A reminder that you'll always be my favorite dish."

"Do you like it? I found this kiosk at the mall where they make those bracelets. If it's stupid, you don't have to wear it. I won't be offended."

"Hazel, I love it."

"Really?"

He nods and slips it onto his wrist. "It's the best gift I've ever gotten. I love you. Thank you."

I climb onto the bed and let out a round of giggles as he tugs me into his lap and presses his lips against mine. It was meant to be a quick one, but as my hands run down his chest, exploring the hair running underneath his belly button, my hands travel down to an already ready and waiting River, a moan against my mouth when I finally grasp onto what he's wanted all morning.

"Take off these damn jeans," he instructs, fumbling with the button on them.

"You don't want cake?" I tease.

Flipping me onto my back, he tugs my jeans and underwear off, discarding them on the floor. "I want something, Hazel." He dips his head down to kiss my navel, all of the breath leaving my body at once. "But it most certainly isn't cake."

***

Our little haven of a cocoon in the air b&b doesn't last long. We both knew we'd have to face reality at some point and as we pull into River's driveway, I can already see the tears forming in his eyes. He's terrified that they're going to kick him out. That he'll have no place else to go.

I reach over the console to grab onto his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You've got this," I remind him. "I'll be right by your side the entire time, okay? No matter what happens."

He nods once and clicks off his seatbelt to get out of the car. I follow suit and hold my breath as we climb up his porch steps and step through the threshold into the house.

Steve is on the couch with a book in hand, and the smell of bacon and eggs is flooding in from the kitchen, where I assume Tracy is. The door shuts behind us with a quiet click, and when Steve brings his eyes up to River from the book he's reading, he freezes.

An awful silence.

A dreadful, painfully long silence.

"River?" he finally asks, throwing the book down on the coffee table to come to his side. "What happened?"

I'm still holding onto his hand, but it's shaking rapidly in mine, and he's blinking away tears. I can see the rising and falling of his chest. I can sense just how nervous he is. In some way, we're connected through some mental bond.

"Are they back?" Tracy calls from the kitchen, and when she doesn't hear anything, she enters the living room with an apron around her waist, her eyes growing wide as she scans over the bruises on River's face. "Oh, honey, what happened?"

They continue staring as they await an answer, and it's such an awkward silence that I gulp loudly, almost unsure if I should be the one explaining.

Finally, after about a minute, River breaks. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, his bottom lip trembling.