Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)

***

I’d been spot on with my prediction. Once we were appropriately cleaned up, Adam and I relaxed in our sweats and enjoyed a lazy day of Chinese takeout and movies. A week ago I’d made the mistake of admitting that I’d never seen Animal House, Field of Dreams, or Heat. I thought I’d actually seen the last one until he informed me that I was thinking of The Heat with Sandra Bullock and “that manly chick from Bridesmaids,” as he so kindly referred to her. I guess he thought Valentine’s day was the appropriate time to rectify my limited knowledge of classic guy films, so he’d come prepared with all of them.

Despite the fact that watching three back-to-back movies of your boyfriend’s choosing is not the romantic night every girl hopes for on Valentine’s Day, I couldn’t help thinking that the gesture was sweet. Not to mention I found a certain enjoyment in letting Adam feed me lo mien with chopsticks. Every now and then he’d recite a line or two from one of the movies, and I could appreciate the excitement he felt when he watched his favorite parts. It was the same enthusiasm I had when I watched the riff off in Pitch Perfect for the thirtieth time. Those bitches can sing.

Finally, when the last movie ended, I couldn’t take it anymore. “I wanna give you your gift,” I whined.

He let out a loud laugh in response and pulled me closer to him on the couch to stroke my hair. “You wanna give me my gift? I thought it was the other way around. I thought you wanted to get yours?”

“I do,” I said, “but I really am looking forward to seeing you open yours. Maybe there’s some truth to that whole ‘giving’ thing.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, feigning apathy about our upcoming gift exchange. “I guess we can do gifts now. Wait right here. I gotta go get it.”

I watched him walk down the hall and into one of the two bedrooms at the end. Once he was out of sight, I got up to grab his gift from my purse on the kitchen counter and plopped myself back down on the plush off-white couch, concealing his present behind me.

A few moments later, Adam returned to hand me a red envelope. “You go first,” he said, a wide smile sweeping across his face. He seemed excited for me to open it.

In the seconds I had before I opened the card, my mind involuntarily guessed at its contents. Tickets to a concert or comedy show maybe?

I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm, so I tore open the envelope, barely stopping long enough to read the card: some light-hearted poem with two cartoon bears on the front. Inside was a gift certificate for a spa near my house. Three hundred dollars. “Wow, Adam. Thank you. "But," I bit on my lower lip, "it's too much.”

“It’s not too much,” he said with a shrug. “I thought you could take off from work and spend the day there sometime. Get a massage or pedicure or something. Do whatever girls do when they wanna relax.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him into me to give him an innocent kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Adam. Really, I can’t wait.”

“You’re welcome. I’m happy you like it. I wasn’t sure what to get you.”

“It’s great! I hope you like yours too,” I said, handing him the small box I had behind my back.

“I’m sure I will.” He took it from me, unwrapping it carefully like he wanted to savor the moment. He pulled every last speck of paper off the box before opening it to see what was inside.

“Do you like it?” I asked nervously.

“I love it,” Adam said, taking out the watch to study it closely. “I like that you can see the gears inside.”

“I was hoping you’d like that kind. I figured since you’re an architect, you’d like to see how things are built. Flip it over.”

Unsure of why I said that, he looked at me curiously and then turned the watch over to see the inscription underneath. “To make up for lost time,” he said quietly. He took my hand in his, his eyes thanking me more than his words ever could. “It’s perfect.”





Chapter 28: Max


After Lily’s visit, I knew that I needed to start moving on. Even though I had been pissed to hear that Adam had told her about my conversation with him, in retrospect I was glad. If she could know what I had sacrificed for her and still not want me, well then I guess she never would. And while I accepted that she’d never love me like she loved him, there was still a part of me that hoped maybe one day she might feel something close.

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