Page 43 of Hunter or Hunted

It felt unnatural now to look beneath the tree and know that one of the gifts beneath it was for me. It should’ve been normal. It should’ve felt heartwarming. But it left me with my jaw hanging open and muttering something about how it was okay, she could open hers first.

She did.

She pulled back the red wrapping paper that covered her new phone, a fancy pair of headphones, a backpack, a pretty overnight bag, gift cards to high-end makeup stores and clothing shops, a new snowsuit, and new boots, all while grinning ear to ear. She smiled and laughed and thanked Sebastian.

Suffice it to say, the gift I’d gotten her paled in comparison.

A vinyl of Billy Eilish’s most recent album, a music sheet clip holder engraved with her name, and a framed photo of the soundwaves from one of our practices. I’d recorded it without her knowledge and had some artist on Etsy print it in pretty colors.

But she smiled just as big, laughed just as loud, and even got teary-eyed at the soundwaves. She thanked me and hugged me, then grinned like a little kid, saying, “Oh my God, you’re gonna love yours.”

And as heartwarming as it was, as much as I adored Lizzie, I insisted that Sebastian open his presents first. Why? I didn’t know. Because it felt different. Foreign. I was more of a giver than a taker. Accepting gifts, kindness, even the care that Sebastian had given me yesterday, left me with a film atop my skin. Like I needed another shower.

Still, Sebastian happily accepted the gifts I passed him. He tore them open with the same childish glee as his niece. A new easel, oil paints, brushes, and rolled canvases he could stretch over wooden frames. When he dug deeper in the bag and pulled out the big one—the one I had been most excited to give him—he gasped with shock, then all but squealed. I doubted he would appreciate that verbiage, but it was pretty close. Even Honey came running over to make sure he was okay.

A sweatshirt with a removable battery pack. He always complained that in the colder months it was a pain in the ass tending to Rhiannon’s animals. This was both gift and solution.

On the last gift, he smiled so big. Tears even welled in his eyes.

The cheapest of all the gifts, in fact, but the most sentimental. A leather-bound sketchbook, embossed with his name and a quote from Leonardo da Vinci. His favorite artist, he’d informed me early in our friendship. He appreciated that Da Vinci was both artist and scientist.

He thanked me, and he hugged me, and we laughed, and we smiled.

Then the two of them scampered off. Hushed voices echoed off the high ceilings from somewhere else in the mansion. Then an odd squeaking sound.

A few seconds later, something slid into the cased opening of the living room. A giant box of red wrapping paper with a big green bow around it.

I asked what the hell it was, and they told me to open it.

I started ripping at the paper. Honey joined in. And then I was the one in tears.

“I don’t really know where it’ll fit,” Sebastian said, “and I hope it’s good quality. But you’re always complaining about how you don’t have one at your cabin, that you have to go all the way down to the rec center and wait for it to be available, so I figured, what the hell? Why not get you a gift you’d really love?”

Silence sat between us while I battled a war with the lump in my throat and the sting in my eyes. For a moment, I forgot to breathe.

A mini grand piano. He got me a miniature grand piano.

“It is a gift you really love, right?” Lizzie asked. “I mean, it’s big, but it’s not that big. I think if you get rid of that one end table by the window, beside the fireplace, it would probably fit right there. If that’s what you’re worried about, anyway.”

I wasn’t worried about where to put it. I was worried about the price. The fact that I’d spent a couple hundred bucks on Sebastian’s gifts, and there was no way he’d picked this thing up for less than a thousand. I was worried about the pressure that came with that. The same thing that’d run through my mind earlier, when I looked around the kitchen he’d cleaned.

That he was giving too much, and I wasn’t giving enough.

“And I got a really great deal on it,” Sebastian said, almost like he read my mind. “It looks brand new, but the box was opened. Somebody was selling it online, and I saw it, and I just had to go get it. So don’t worry about the price either. It was a really great deal.”

He lied. I could tell from the look on his face. It was identical to the expression he gave me that day in the café, right after I had killed David. Something in his eyes, maybe in his speech pattern, that I couldn’t quite pinpoint, but now recognized as his tell.

But saying he got it secondhand was his way of saying he couldn’t return it. I couldn’t reject it. If I did, he would donate it to the ranch, and I’d still wind up using it.

Rather than debate it, I collapsed into his arms with tears in my eyes.

Did the power dynamic make me uncomfortable? The fact that he made so much more money, that he came from so much more money? Most of the time, no. We usually went on dates at diners and bars and chain restaurants. Sebastian wasn’t one to flaunt his wealth.

But today, it did. Whether because I hadn’t received a gift in so long, or because I had never received a gift this extraordinary, I couldn’t say. But that was something I could talk to Rhiannon about in our next session.

For now, I thanked him, and I hugged him, and we kissed, and we went on with our holly jolly Christmas.

Considering he had made dinner last night, and that he had gotten me a several-thousand-dollar Christmas present, I insisted on breakfast. Of all the meals, it was my favorite to cook. Dinner was too savory, lunch the same, but with breakfast and dessert, I got to play with sweetness and complex pairings.