One
1193 Words
Raven - Present Day
I pressed the embossed down firmly, imprinting my stores logo onto the title page of one of the new arrivals. The paper gave a soft, satisfying crunch beneath the weight.
Ravens Hollow curved across the page in arched bold italics with a raven clutching a book in its talons beneath it. My chest warmed at the sight.
I never thought I'd get here.
The bookstore had taken off the moment we opened. Chris handled the marketing aspect - because of course he did - but everything else was mine. Inventory, vendors, layouts, events, everything. I had one other employee I adored and a space filled with everything I loved and cherished.
Books, candles, indie - author merch. Sponsored items from bigger names. Stickers. T-shirts, hoodies, bags - those items sold almost as well as the books themselves. There was even a lounge area tucked into the back where people could curl up and read in peace. I had a few chairs scattered throughout the store for everyone to enjoy, my favorite being in the front next to the big bay window.
I had toyed with the idea of adding a cafe for years, but the thought still intimidated me.
Still, for a small business in the heart of Boston, I was doing well. Far better than well. I was twenty five years old, I had a degree in literature, a minor in business. I owned a bookstore. And I was married.
I glanced down at the diamond ring on my finger, the stone catching in the light and smiled.
No, I wasn't in love with my husband the way characters fell in love in the books lining my shelves. But I loved him deeply.
Speak of the devil, I thought as I heard the chime on the door ring out. Chris walked in, balancing a coffee tray in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. His black suit was crisp, tailored to perfection. The Rolex on his wrist gleamed in the light streaming through the front windows.
"Are these the new books?" He asked, eyes lighting up.
I know what you're thinking. Chris is gay - so why am I married to him?
The answer is simple. And complicated. Chris proposed the idea of a lavender marriage after our senior year of highschool.
I'd finally told him everything after he found me collapsed in the school bathroom - blood sugar spiking, insulin gone for days. I was on the verge of passing out. When I finished, he laid his truth on the table for me.
He wasn't ready to come out. Not yet. His parents were pushing him to step into their world, but they wouldn't hand over the reins until he settled down. With a family. Either he chose a women, or they would.
Chris trusted me. He loved me - not romantically, but fiercely, familiarly. He said marrying him would give me everything I needed and wanted. Insurance. Access to healthcare. Safety. Freedom. The ability to build a life without fear.
We made a deal. We'd stay married until one of us was ready to find real love or ready to walk away. Mutual benefit. Mutual respect. I agreed without hesitation.
I knew all of his secrets and he knew all of mine. All of our fears. Our demons. And while we don't share a bed, he has treated me better than anyone ever has.
He helped me enroll in collage. Paid my tuition. Funded the bookstore despite my protests about his money. His parents' threats linger in the back of my mind.
"I just want you to be successful," he'd said.
He treated me like a queen - and honestly? It was nice having someone who understood femininity, strength, and care taking all at once.
"Head," I said brightly, finishing the last stamp. "They're gorgeous." The sprayed edges and the beautiful artwork on the cover were mouthwatering.
Chris had given me the embossed as a congratulations gift when we opened. Even helped me name the store himself.
Ravens Hollow.
I'd tried to pay him back once the store took off and started turning a profit. He refused every time. Everytime I sent him a transfer, he'd wire it right back to me. It was frustrating.
"You're my wife," he'd say. "What kind of husband would I be if I didn't support your dreams?"
Temporarily effective. Emphasis on the temporary. Also, swoonworthy. He was going to make a man really happy someday. I'd pay him back eventually though.
I sniffed as he got closer. "What've you got for me?"
"A sugar free vanilla protein latte, extra shot of espresso," he said. "And a cheddar egg white with turkey bacon English muffin."
I practically melted behind the register counter.
Marriage - and proper healthcare - had changed everything for me. I got my diabetes under control. Wore a dexcom on my arm. Worked with a nutritionist. Started going to the gym with Chris. I even got my PCOS under management.
The weight came off slowly, steadily.
Curves replaced the bulk. Bras finally fit. Still, part of me feared that one wrong step would send everything spiraling backward.
My therapist - because of course I had one of those now - called it trauma. Body dysmorphia.
I took a sip of the coffee and sighed as the caffeine hit my soul. Not for energy - coffee stopped doing that years ago - but for love. And to avoid the souls crushing headache I knew I would get that came without it.
"What did you get?" I asked.
Chris tried to hide the glazed donut topped with crushed bacon, he failed. He had a smidge of maple frosting on his face and I laughed.
God, I wanted a bite of it so bad.
"You can have a bite," he offered. "It's okay every once in a while. Everything in moderation."
I checked my dexcom. 98. Perfect. Relief loosened my shoulder's.
"I know," I said, pulling out my sandwhich and hot sauce packet. "But..."
He laughed. "Fair. You excited for tonight? Luxe finally reopened!"
Luxe was our playground. He got to explore his desires. I got to scratch an itch no toy could ever replicate. We'd been restless without it.
"Yes," I said. "Think anyone interesting will be there tonight?"
He shrugged. "Haven't heard from my guy in a few days. Might be ghosting."
My heart pinched. He shook his head immediately. Pieces of his bacon covered donut shaking all over my countertops.
"No pity. We're going out. Period."
"I'm allowed to be sad for you."
He smiled softly. "Empath. Always."
"I'm closing at five," I said. "I don't want to be out late."
He nodded, never questioning my fear of the dark. I fixed Chris' hair absently. "Thank you for breakfast."
"No thanks needed.'
"Go, before your dad thinks I've kidnapped you again. I'll see you tonight?"
"I'll bring the dazzle," he said. Before heading out the door, he turned around, "You better bring the dazzle."
The bell chimed. I stood alone in Ravens Hollow, surrounded by the scent of fresh paper, leather bindings, coffee, and romance.
- Writer
