Chapter 20 - Treasured #2
Adathan untied the ribbons and removed the wrapping paper.
He meticulously inspected each flower, cut the stems at an angle, and removed the lowest leaves before placing them into the mug.
He worked with remarkable grace, his slender fingers showing no sign of his so-called inadequate fine motor skills.
Not that William believed Eden Serviteurs’ assessment, but every time Adathan proved them wrong felt like a victory against society itself.
Adathan folded the wrapping paper artistically before securing it around the mug with the ribbons, turning the makeshift vase into a deliberate-looking piece. It had been a nice bouquet before, but now it was a gorgeous work of art.
“Wow. You could work as a florist.”
“You think so?” Adathan said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he placed the flower arrangement on the table.
William sighed internally. Ten minutes in, and he’d already said something stupid. Of course Adathan would assume he was pressuring him into getting a job. It was one of the first things William had told him at the hotel . . .
. . . and that he’d find him an apartment.
Shit.
Could Adathan think he was trying to get rid of him?
“I got you these,” William said, taking the new set of keys out of his pocket. “I figured: why wait? And got them done right away.” He held his hand out with a smile, the ladybug keychain dangling before Adathan’s eyes.
See? Not getting rid of you.
Adathan didn’t reach for them. He didn’t move at all.
“Your keys to our home,” William said, emphasizing the last two words.
Adathan kept staring at the keychain, his mouth opening slowly, but letting no sound out.
William’s smile grew heavy. How could he have said something wrong again? It made no sense. He was certain this had been a good move—it was the ultimate proof he wanted Adathan in his life.
Adathan smiled, looking as if he’d just snapped back to the present. “Thank you, William,” he said, yet he still didn’t take the keys.
William sat down and motioned for Adathan to do the same. “I see that you’re uncomfortable,” he said with a calm he didn’t feel. “It’s okay, you can be honest. You can always be honest. Is there something on your mind?”
Adathan sat, joining his hands on the table. He looked at William for a moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts before speaking in a measured voice, “I would rather . . . not possess keys.”
William nodded and stood up, ignoring his instincts to push back.
“All right. They’re not yours; they’re mine.
” He walked to the kitchen junk drawer and opened it.
“But you’re allowed to use them whenever you want.
As long as you put them back into this drawer when you’re done.
” He felt like shit at the last part, but Adathan’s shoulders visibly relaxed, so his did as well.
“Thank you,” Adathan said, sounding like he meant it.
William dropped the keys and closed the drawer. It would take time to adjust to Adathan’s selective aversion to freedom, but he was determined to at least ensure Adathan never felt bad about it. None of this was his fault. “Are you hungry? I made Minestrone soup.”
Adathan beamed. “I am. Do you need help with anything?”
William was about to say no when his gaze fell on the notebooks on the table.
“Not with the meal, but,” he said, nodding toward them.
“I got us those as a starting point for our instruction manuals. Mine’s the black one.
I, uh, already started filling it. If you wanna take a look and let me know what you think. ”
“It will be my pleasure!”
William turned around as Adathan reached for his notebook, reminding his racing heart he had no reason to be nervous. It did little to slow his pulse. This whole thing made him feel a lot more vulnerable than he’d anticipated. Earlier, he’d even come close to throwing both notebooks in the trash—
“William is a man who spent most of his life seeking happiness where he couldn’t find it.”
William’s breath hitched. He hadn’t expected Adathan to read it aloud.
“Misguided by his desire for a life of luxury, he failed to see the freedom and privilege he already had,” Adathan continued, sounding as if he were reading a fascinating tale.
William grabbed two large bowls from the cupboard.
“Until recently, he was convinced he was selfish, but then he met someone special who made him realize how wrong he was.”
William suppressed a groan of embarrassment as he scooped piping hot soup into the bowls.
“He struggles to connect sometimes, but it’s not because he doesn’t care.”
William put a spoon in each bowl and placed them on the table.
“It’s because letting people in means risking disappointing them. Or worse, losing them.”
William sat down, not daring to look at Adathan, afraid of what he’d see written across his features.
“But life is a gamble. No matter what cards we’re dealt, the only way to win is to take chances. Even a pair of threes can change a life under the right circumstances.”
William cringed. He might have pushed the poker analogy a little too far there.
“He wishes he’d been taught that life lesson a lot earlier, but it’s never too late to grow. And with the help of the two strongest people he knows, he has the firm certainty that . . .” Adathan looked up. “He has a shot at true happiness.”
William let out an awkward chuckle. “That was a little lame, huh?”
Adathan closed the notebook and stood up from his chair. He circled the table and sat down in William’s lap, wrapping his arms loosely around his shoulders. “Nothing is lame that comes from the heart,” he said, looking into his eyes.
“You make me happy,” William blurted.
Adathan cupped his cheek, the warmth in his gaze giving William the courage to keep going.
“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Since you set foot in my life, it’s like everything suddenly makes sense. Like I broke the surface of a deep lake and can finally breathe.”
He wrapped his arms around Adathan. “I want to be with you.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. And it’s pretty scary, I gotta admit. But first, I need you to promise me something. Something very important.”
Adathan nodded.
“Promise me that . . . if I ever make you unhappy, you will let me know. If I do or say something that hurts you, you will let me know. And if you no longer want to be with me . . . you will let me know.” William cupped the back of Adathan’s head, looking deep into his eyes.
“I don’t own you, and I never will. You’re your own person, and you deserve to be happy just as much as I do.
So please promise me. Promise me you’ll never pretend you’re happy to be with me if you’re not. ”
William’s pulse pounded in his ears as he held Adathan’s gaze, waiting for him to say the words. But he didn’t. Silence stretched on torturously, making William’s heart sink into his stomach. Had Adathan been pretending all that time? Was it all fake?
A wave of nausea hit William. Had he let himself be fooled into believing someone like Adathan truly wished to be with him? Had he done all this just to end up getting rejected—humiliated?
Adathan let out a long breath, melting into his arms. He rested his forehead in the crook of William’s shoulder, his arms wrapping tightly around him. “I promise, but only if . . .”
“Only if . . .?” William echoed, barely daring to breathe.
“You promise the same,” Adathan whispered.
It was William’s turn to let out a breath.
He held Adathan tenderly, one hand rubbing his back, while the other caressed his hair.
Now he understood why Adathan had hesitated—the prospect of losing William must be terrifying.
But just because they made this promise today didn’t make it more likely for them to grow apart in the future.
If anything, it was a reminder that their relationship should be treasured.
“I promise.”
Adathan sighed, squeezing him tightly. He pulled away and looked into his eyes. “What you wrote so far is beautiful. I’m looking forward to learning more about you.”
William smiled, closing the distance between their lips. “Me too.”