12 Days of Gabriel–A series of vignettes told from Gabriel’s POV:

Mad for You #5

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Macy’s was crowded. Crowds usually irritated me. I hated feeling like I was being swallowed up by a sea of strangers—too many eyes on me. It wasn’t in my nature to enjoy the attention but, as with many things, I’d learned to fake it.

It was just what I did. I always faked my way through the never-ending interviews, photo shoots, and social engagements. It was something I learned to do, a way to navigate my adulthood with my sanity intact.

Today it didn’t bother me as much. I didn’t have to wonder why.

I made sure to keep Emma inside my reach, protected from the possibly jostling of others intent on buying the latest whatever-was-in-fashion-at-the-moment.

She stayed at my side without complaint, quiet as customary. Her silence inspired me to usually become quite the chatterbox, which was odd for me considering it was usually the other way around when I was concerned. A twinge of guilt pierced my veil of contentment. Had my exes liked me as much as I liked Emma?

If so, I hoped Karma existed in theory.

Like a lovestruck man, I wanted to please her. I wanted my apartment to be another home for her. Everything I bought needed to have her stamp of approval—no matter how mundane.

“What do you think of this, Emma?” I pointed to a stack of fluffy white towels.

She looked at them and asked carefully, “Do you like them?”

I frowned for a split-second. I knew the tone, having had to hear it for the better part of my entire life. I did not want a “Yes” woman. “Unacceptable.”

“What?”

I put my arm around her shoulders. “I asked your opinion, Emma. I want it.”

“Okay then. White towels are great, but they run the risk of going dingy if you don’t wash them right. They are unforgiving on stains and you’ll probably have to replace them faster than if you went with another color. They’re not exactly practical, but they are pretty.”

This I liked. Emma thought they were pretty. Good.

“I’ll take a two dozen then.”

I held her hand and led her to another stack. “Should I get guest towels in a different color or keep everything in the same palette?”

Emma observed the neat blocks of varying color. “It’s up to you, Gabriel. White will go with anything…”

She was being a peach, really she was, but I didn’t want her so damned diplomatic. I wanted her to be happy with my purchases because everything I got I got because of her. Perhaps if I was a little more forward?

“What color do you think I should get?”

She took her time answering. A half-smile played at the corners of her luscious mouth. “Aqua and gold.”

The symbolism of her choices didn’t escape me. I felt an unaccustomed blush threaten to overtake my face.

Emma had so much power over me. I wondered if she’d ever realize it…