I wanted to climb them like a tree.

“Hi,” they said, shoving their hands in their pockets. “Um. Why are you here, Lily?”

I blinked. Focus, Lily.

And after a few more vigorous blinks, I truly took in Sam’s face.

I had been ready for a look of confusion or surprise. But what threw me was the wariness I found there instead. Their face had been relaxed and happy when they’d opened the door expecting Eric, but now, it had closed off completely. Like they couldn’t wait for this to be over.

My stomach sank down to my toes.

“A couple things,” I said, trying to sound upbeat, normal. Like I hadn’t been thinking about this moment for days. Like my palms weren’t sweating.

I glanced quickly at the walls around us as I tried to gather breath—and courage—into my lungs. The maps here all seemed more old-time-y than the majority of the ones at Sam’s apartment, mostly of the Eastern seaboard, Europe. But they were nicely framed, neatly arranged on the wall, just as at their home.

I thought about how when Sam talked, they made it sound like they were a mess inside. Bumbling through, I remembered them saying at Moonie’s.

But all of the hard evidence that surrounded them suggested that in reality, Sam Bell treated their life with extreme care.

“So. I made you some clothes.” I nodded toward the bag. “I had to guess on your measurements, so they might all be shit anyway, but…” Another deep breath. “It was fun for me. I like making clothes for people, and I liked making clothes for you. Sitting at my sewing table, where I feel safest. Thinking of you.”

I swallowed.

“But, after they were done, I realized they might not be the nice gesture I’d thought they’d be. Clothes are personal, Sam. You should always have the right to wear what makes you feel good, and it’s entirely possible one conversation wasn’t enough for me to know, accurately, what makes you feel good. So, I, um. Brought a backup gift, too. If you don’t want the clothes.”

Sam eyed me levelly, leaning their palms back against their desk. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence.

“You made me clothes,” they said slowly.

“Yeah.” I swallowed again. “I’m sorry. You really don’t have to take them.”

Another long pause. I forced myself to not melt into a puddle.

“I...I’m sorry, Lily. But why are you bringing me gifts?”

“I wanted to explain myself. And thought if you didn’t let me, which would be within your rights, I could at least leave something with you. For you. As a thank you for a truly wonderful night.”

They stared at me a minute more. And maybe my own eyes were going wobbly, but I thought their face softened, just a tiny bit.