Chapter 41 #3
A grin lifted the corner of my mouth, and I took my own bite as Dakota chewed.
“This is actually good,” she said through a mouthful of cake and icing.
“Why do you say actually good?” I tilted my head. “You don’t assume me capable of making some icing?”
“Honestly, no.” Another small laugh broke free of her lips.
It was the most beautiful sound in existence.
I loved her laughter, loved her smiles, loved everything about her.
I could perfectly remember the first time she’d really smiled for me, which was also the night I first fucked her—though the smile and the sex didn’t happen simultaneously.
It was when I was dragging her out to my car, trying to kiss her all over, too obsessed with her for her own safety.
I’d never really seen her smile so freely like that before then.
Even now, it was rare. There was always a slight downward tilt at the corners of her mouth, a bit of lingering anxiety in her expression, a sadness in her eyes, nervousness in the press of her lips. I wanted to fix all of it.
But I knew I couldn’t.
Every time I’d made her hate me flashed in my mind. A gun in my hand, her head under the water, a screaming match in the car.
I shoved those memories away, ignoring how Micah’s eyes flashed to my face at the feeling of my panic spiking.
There was little more than the sound of forks on plates until the three of us finished our slices of cake. I brought the plates to the sink while Micah disappeared into his office to get our presents for her.
“I said I didn’t want any presents!” Dakota exclaimed as Micah came back into the kitchen, a tiny bit of panic in her voice.
“It’s just two,” I reassured her. “One from each of us.”
Micah set his own down first—a neatly wrapped box.
Dakota eyed him warily while carefully sliding her finger under the edges of the wrapping paper, but I could see the little frown on the edges of her lips, her small vulnerability shining through. She got the box open and peered inside.
Every single one of Lana Del Rey’s albums on cassette tapes.
“For the truck,” Micah said. Dakota looked up at him with more tears in her eyes and I knew what she wanted to tell him, knew exactly what three words she wished she could say but was refraining out of fear it’d make him push her away.
I love you.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I love it.”
I had to look back down at my own wrapped gift to ease the ache in my throat.
“Here,” I offered while handing her the gift bag.
She tugged out the wads of tissue paper, letting them drift down onto the table.
The gift was one of those small portable photo printers that connected to your phone.
“I thought you could add pictures to your journal,” I explained. Dakota’s big eyes found mine. I love you, I mouthed. She smiled softly, then looked back at her present.
“Thank you. I want to test it out,” she said, then laid her hand flat on the table before looking expectantly at both me and Micah.
We followed suit, putting our hands down on the table, all of our fingertips pointed towards the same center.
Dakota got her phone out and took a picture of our three hands, then tapped a few buttons on the screen.
She took the printer out of the box, skimmed the instructions briefly, then did something else on her phone.
After a short minute, the little printer began whirring, a glossy photo coming out of it. She carefully took the photo and inspected it, then showed us.
“I need my journal.” She darted upstairs, then rushed right back down and flipped to a blank page. She peeled the backing off the photo sticker, then smoothed it onto the page and uncapped her blue pen.
22nd birthday
She wrote under the photo, printed in her handwriting that was almost cursive when she wrote fast, all the letters more loopy and connected.
“It looks perfect, baby,” I said.
“Thank you.” She smiled a little bigger. “Both of you.”
“You’re welcome. Also, Mason lied,” Micah said as he stood up from the table and disappeared through the door to the garage. Dakota and I exchanged a glance. Her eyebrows were furrowed.
“I didn’t lie,” I reassured her. I had no clue what Micah was even talking about, what lie he was accusing me of. Yeah, I lied all the time but not right now. It was Dakota’s birthday.
He reentered the house with some shopping bags.
“I got you more than one present,” he explained.
“Micah!”
“No,” he cut her off. “This is barely a gift. These are necessities.”
He set the bags on the table, letting Dakota peer inside.
“These are snow clothes,” she said cutely, sounding slightly confused but grateful.
“Yes. Outside the fence, there’s a hill at the back of my yard. You mentioned you’d want to go sledding, and this year it seems like it’ll be possible.”
“Oh, my God.” She covered her red face with her hands. “I just said that once!”
“I figured I’d give you the possibility of spending time in the snow without getting soaked and freezing to death.”
“Don’t tell me there’s also a sled in the garage.”
“There’s a sled in the garage.”