Chapter Thirty-Three
CHRISTMAS DAY passes in a haze of delicious food, good wine, and the feeling of what family seems like it should mean. After everyone stuffs themselves on manicotti, they let the food settle, then go back for dessert, which is a huge assortment of Italian cookies (not homemade, Lewis confesses). They take another walk around the neighborhood after that. A few families are outside, the kids running around and playing with new Christmas gifts.
As the day creeps to a close and thick midwinter darkness falls, Tad knows he’s going to have to go outside this idyllic little bubble and back to the real world. His plants need him, and he misses Hetty. It will be lonely taking the train home by himself.
He’s surprised when Lewis asks, “Should we leave soon? I’m not sure what time you wanted to be home by.”
“We?” Tad repeats like he’s never encountered the word before.
“Yeah,” Lewis says. “Of course. I wouldn’t send you back to Manhattan alone.”
Right. Of course. Unthinkable. Is this what a good relationship feels like?
“Unless,” Lewis says, sounding like he’s afraid he said something wrong, “you want some time by yourself. Shit. You probably do. Sorry. Jesus. I’m not trying to make decisions for you or be a control freak—”
Tad grabs a fistful of Lewis’s shirt and hauls him in for a kiss, not caring one bit that anyone could walk into the room and see them.
Lewis relaxes into it. “I wanna spend the night with you again,” he murmurs into Tad’s mouth, “but it’s super rude to just invite myself over, right?”
“Invite yourself over,” Tad replies and kisses Lewis again.
That’s how they find themselves back at Tad’s apartment after a long, loud, joyful goodbye with Lisa and Robin. They make Tad promise to come again and Lewis promise to bring Tad again. Taylor drove to Weehawken, so she drops Lewis and Tad at the Hoboken PATH Station. With Lewis at his side, Tad feels like he could sit on the train forever.
When they get back to Tad’s place, Tad scoops Hetty up and hugs her, which she tolerates for a while before squirming to get down. Lewis plays with her and plies her with treats while Tad takes care of the plants, trimming, cutting back, watering, and moving them around as needed.
Once that’s done, Tad says, “I want to show you something.” Of course, Lewis gives him a wolfish grin, which makes Tad laugh. “Not that. I mean, not yet . We have to go back outside for this. Get your coat.”
“I love bossy Tad.” Lewis shrugs his coat back on and gives Hetty a little scratch behind her ears. “Like when you told me to ride the mechanical bull with you.”
“I’m pretty sure I politely invited you to ride the mechanical bull with me,” Tad shoots back playfully.
Christmas night isn’t an ideal time to stand on a roof in Manhattan, but the roof of Tad’s building is one of his favorite places in the whole world—a place where he can stand, surrounded by the life of Manhattan, but in his own island of peace and solitude. It makes him feel like a prince, like it’s all out there waiting for him. The meek shall inherit the Earth, or something.
“Whoa,” Lewis says when Tad leads him to the edge of the roof. The city spreads out in all directions—Manhattan to the south, George Washington Bridge and Jersey to the west, the Bronx to the east and north. Manhattan’s skyscrapers twinkle in the clear, frigid air, the Empire State Building lit up green and red and drawing attention like a crown jewel in a collection of royal treasures.
Ordinarily street noise would drift up between buildings—trucks, car horns, traffic whooshing by, the beat of reggaeton and hip-hop floating up between brick and glass. Tonight, it’s quiet. There’s a stillness that feels like the indrawn breath before you step up to a mic and sing, or take that final leap off a diving board, or before the gun goes off at the starting line of a race. It feels like that moment when it’s all possible.
“Like it?” Tad asks.
Soft city light shines on Lewis’s face. “I love it. This is—wow.”
He shivers, and Tad puts an arm around him. “Cold?”
“Cold, but totally worth it.” Lewis snuggles into Tad, shifting so he’s standing with his back to Tad’s front. Tad loops his arms around Lewis’s midsection and Lewis leans back. “You want to hear something really stupid?” Lewis asks.
“Sure.”
“You’re supposed to say you’re sure it’s not stupid.”
“Yeah, but it might be stupid,” Tad says innocently.
Lewis makes an affronted noise. “Anyway,” he says, sounding amused and teasing, “the stupid thing I was going to say is—I feel like I’m living a rom-com right now. Like, everything I always dreamed about… it’s coming true.”
Wind gusts, and it feels like it takes Tad’s breath away with it. “With me?” he finally manages.
“No, with my other husband who I drunk married.”
“How do you keep us straight?”
“Easy. You’re the handsomest.”
Tad shakes his head, realizes Lewis can’t see that, and says, “Guys don’t think I’m handsome.”
“Bet they do. I do.”
“I have too many freckles.”
“I love your freckles.”
“I have a pointy nose.”
“I love your nose.”
“I don’t have a body that fits into any of Grindr’s boxes.”
“Tad.” There’s such warmth in Lewis’s voice. “You’re perfect.”
Tad wraps his arms tighter around Lewis, pulling his warmth close. It feels like… home. That’s how Lewis feels to Tad—like home. Like the home his parents’ house hasn’t been in so long. Like the home he’s wanted New York City to be, and which it’s been in so many ways. But Lewis makes it complete. Lewis is the final piece that holds it all together.
That feeling washes over and through him. Overcome, he buries his face in Lewis’s hair.
“What are you thinking about?” Lewis asks. “Hopefully not more ways you’re not perfect, because I can definitely counter every single one of them.”
Tad opens his mouth to answer, but he doesn’t actually know what to say. Should he say what he’s thinking? Is it too much? It’s way too much, right? Yeah. It’s totally too much. This is new, and Lewis probably doesn’t want to get in too deep so fast.
So now he’s just not saying anything. Lewis tilts his head back and nuzzles along the side of Tad’s face. “Getting shy on me?”
Burying his face in Lewis’s hair more fully, Tad mumbles around a smile, “No.”
“It’s okay if you are.”
“No, I’m not.” Lewis turns in his arms so they’re facing each other and Tad says, “I was just thinking about homes. And families. And how your family is just… amazing. Thank you for letting me be part of today.” The way Lewis’s face gets so soft does something irreparable to Tad. He can’t stop the next words that come out of his mouth. “You’re amazing.”
A glow starts at one corner of Lewis’s mouth as it lifts into a smile, and it slowly suffuses his entire face. Eyes alight with joy, Lewis cradles Tad’s face in both hands and breathes, “Oh—baby, you are too. You really are too.”
Tad could tell Lewis he loves him right now. Maybe he should—but maybe not. No, definitely not. It’s too much. And it’s cheesy, anyway, telling his boyfriend he loves him on Christmas Day.
So he brushes his lips over Lewis’s. He tastes like the pignoli cookies he was mainlining at dessert and underneath that, himself—something Tad doesn’t know how to describe except that it’s Lewis , and it’s the sweetest thing Tad can imagine having on his tongue.
They kiss on the roof of Tad’s building on Christmas night with the wind swirling around them and the city alight as far as the eye can see, and it’s like Tad’s soul spread out: lights and lights and lights.