“All of them.”
“Even embarrassing ones.”
“Especially those.”
“No more beautiful secrets.”
He nodded.
“No more.”
I thought.
“Actually, no.”
He looked confused.
“I’m not banning surprises.”
“That seems unfair to birthday cake.”
“What I’m banning is information that belongs to both of us being treated like a gift you get to unwrap for me.”
Adrian nodded slowly.
“That’s fair.”
“Yes.”
“It is.”
“And if something involves my family?”
“You tell me.”
“If someone asks you to hide something from me?”
“I tell them no.”
“Good.”
He hesitated.
“What if it is objectively an excellent Christmas present?”
“Use judgment.”
“That seems dangerous.”
“It is.”
For the first time that morning, I laughed.
Really laughed.
Adrian did too.
Evelyn stood near the wooden chest crying quietly.
I did not hug her.
Not yet.
Some endings should not move faster than the hurt they are trying to repair.
We made the flight.
