Leighanne clutched her guitar to her body as though it were a shield. It was the best type of body armor, one that protected not only her heart but her soul. At least that’s what she told herself over and over while watching her bandmates set up the stage in the large gym at the JCA. Over the last couple of days, almost forty-eight hours since she and Armie had their fight with Mitch, she’d barely been able to stand coming to her evening job. It was agony, being in the office where Mitch had sat, cleaning out the garbage cans in the large poolroom and locker. Hell, even standing in front of the building where she and Mitch had first kissed was almost too painful. She’d started using the side entrance, for Christ’s sake.

“Jesus,” she cursed to herself. What a mess.

“I know tonight is Christmas Eve, young lady, but this is a Hanukkah party.” Rabbi Schultz stood directly in front of the stage holding two menorahs—one electric, the kind to display in windows, the other beautifully wrought and made of metal, waiting for candles to highlight its beauty. But what made her smile was the hilarious sweater he wore. Bright blue and covered with pom-pom style dreidels, it puffed him up to twice his size.

“Sorry, Rabbi.” She pointed to the ridiculous sweater. “Nice outfit.”

He looked down, confused at first, then grinning, an adorable tinge to his rosy cheeks. “Ah, I wear this when I do the kids lighting of the candles before the big feast. Not all the little ones can sit for the whole thing, you know? This way they get the story and their usual bedtime.” He set the menorahs on the stage, then rested his elbows on the edge. “How’s the setup going? Your band need anything else?”

“No, we’re good. Thanks.” She looked behind her to see she was the only one on the stage. The guys had set up and probably headed out to relax before playing. A couple of her bandmates were Jewish, so she knew they wanted to participate in the ceremony before the feast. “As long as you feed us, that’s all we need.”

“Will you watch the ceremony?”

No, because Mitch the big fat jerk will be there. “Probably not. I might use that time to practice a bit.”

“Right, your friend Mitch was telling me you have some original songs. I hope you play them for me.”

“What? When did he tell you that?”

“Oh, some point over the last couple of days. He hasn’t been able to stop talking about you and Armie. I think he’s smitten— Young lady, is there something wrong?”

Leighanne turned away from the rabbi, stunned. Mitch had kicked them out of his apartment because he believed they’d been indiscreet about their relationship, and then he went and blabbed about her to the rabbi? Painful anger rose in her chest, turning her skin to lava. She pushed the mic stand over, needing to vent, needing to hit something. She wanted to kick a hole in the drum kit, but she didn’t think the guys would appreciate that too much.

“What is wrong with him?” she asked, mostly to herself.

“Is there something you’d like to tell me, Leighanne?”

“No, Rabbi, I’m fine.”

“Darling, you’re about as fine as my mother was when her challah bread didn’t come out of the oven looking perfect. She’d throw a fit…then remember she’d made two spares.” He chuckled. “Loved that woman.”

Leighanne looked back at the rabbi, eyebrows raised.

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “A story for another time. But I do have a story to tell you. Sit.” He patted the stage, and when she hesitated, he gave her a look that all teachers and figures of authority had perfected, and she came without being asked a second time. She sat cross-legged on the stage, her back slumped, her hair falling in front of her face.

“Are you going to tell me the story of Hanukkah?”

“No. I’ve had to tell that story eight times today already, and I will do it again later tonight.” He patted her knee at her disbelieving look. “Don’t get me wrong. The way the Maccabees rose up in victory against the Seleucid Greek government, thereby rededicating the temple that had been taken from them, is a great and powerful story. But this is one I think you will find more interesting this night…though you must promise me to keep it in confidence.”

He only began his story after she promised.

“There once was a boy who lived in a small town in Connecticut. Not here, another town nearby. He was one of the few Jews in a Christian neighborhood, so he had to travel far to come to this sacred place, the JCA. Now although the JCA was built by those of the Jewish faith, many faiths come here to practice and study. The boy learned much here and grew to love the building.

“As a grown man he became successful, coming into a bit of money as a fancy lawyer or something. I don’t understand that part of the story fully.” Leighanne laughed when he waved the details away. “The man dedicated his spare time to repurposing old buildings in neighborhoods around the East Coast, trying to recreate the one he grew up in. He wanted others who didn’t have a community of like-minded, welcoming people to experience the joy of a place like this. But everywhere he went, every building he tried to rebuild or repurpose failed. It was as if God himself did not want his plan to succeed.

“One day he thinks he finds a place that is warm and accepting. The people of the town seem to think his idea a good one. He buys the land, begins construction, and falls in love during his time there. Unfortunately, the man he loves has a family, and they are not of the accepting and kind nature. They take the harsher points of their faith, use it to rally the community into a mob mentality, and run him out of town. He gives up the land, gives up his dream.” The rabbi paused, leveling her with a serious look and gripping her hand. It seemed to hurt him to tell this part. “The night he intends to return to New England, his bags packed, the car ready for the long journey…the family of that man attacks and hospitalizes our hero. They used a bat and brass knuckles.”

Leighanne’s blood ran cold. Mitch sometimes stretched his calf and back muscles to the point of pain. He said they were stiff…but maybe it was from a past injury.

“Did those men go to prison?”

“No, because the world is not always a just place, as the Maccabees knew too well.” He seemed proud of himself to get a Hanukkah reference into the story, but she couldn’t think. “The man came home to recover and eventually went back to work, attempting to forget his mission…when he heard from a business associate his beloved JCA was about to be sold, then demolished and turned into a Walmart.”

She gasped.

“Well, he rushed in, and even though he had fear and PTSD from the attack, especially where small towns were concerned, he bought the place, intending to refurbish and expand the building. This place will be the pinnacle of the town, a beacon where those lost or in need can come to for guidance as he did. People can come to learn, come to exercise, or to simply be here, in peace. Our hero did that, all while dreading a repeat of that awful night.”

“I doubt Armie and I made it any better…”

“The fact that he fell in love with both of you, no. That did not make it better. If anything his fears have only increased. But I do know he regrets sending you away.”

“How can he love us? We barely know each other.”

“Love is a funny thing, my dear.” The rabbi took the cord on the electric menorah and plugged it into an outlet at the base of the stage. “One second, our hearts are dark with no reason to shine, and all it takes is a little twist, a new outlook.” He tightened one of the bulbs until it burned bright orange, casting a warm glow over the rabbi’s face. “Then we are ablaze with purpose.”

“Ablaze with purpose? That prose is a little too purple, even for you, Rabbi.”

Leighanne turned to see Armie making his way across the gym in their direction. His older sister, Ophi, held his arm, guiding him around the tables. When they reached the stage, Rabbi Schultz took Armie’s elbow, guiding him closer, and Ophi kissed him on the cheek before running back to the exit. Leighanne’s neighbor, David, waited there for Ophi, taking her hand and sending Leighanne an overexaggerated wink before leaving.

Armie held out a hand, and Leighanne didn’t waste any time entwining their fingers together.

“Did you hear it all?” Leighanne asked.

“Yeah. Shit.”

The rabbi smacked Armie upside his head. “Language in front of the lady.”

“Don’t give me that, Rabbi. You once cursed like a sailor in front of a fifth-grade elementary school class.”

“I dropped the Torah into a punch bowl. It warranted some cursing.” The rabbi rested his hand over theirs. “Please, both of you, Mitch is a good man, and whatever has caused the rift between you can be mended, I know it. Don’t give up on him, or you’ll be another failure he adds to his list, defeating him, tainting his heart.”

“The things he accused us of, the things he did…” Fucking Armie like that, then leaving him with his pants around his ankles. It made Leighanne so furious to think about.

“He is scared, and fear makes people do not so great things. Give him another chance. Or at least talk to him, let him explain. For me?”

“We’ll see,” Armie said, making no promises.

Armie listened as the rabbi walked out of the gym, citing that he needed to finish hanging last-minute decorations. As the door swung closed, Armie heard Nettie’s distinct voice out in the hallway offering to help, followed by the rabbi’s kind but frustrated groan. Poor Nettie; she’d never fully be able to suppress that need to offer assistance. At least she wasn’t that way with Josh, a sign of true love if Armie ever saw one.

“So…” Leighanne began, breaking the silence. She sounded unsure, and it stirred the anger and resentment Armie felt toward Mitch once more. He didn’t know if he could forgive Mitch for the way he’d treated them, but Armie wasn’t ready to give up on Leighanne yet.

“So…kiss me?”

Her laugh was painted with a sigh of relief. She framed his face, her thumbs rubbing against his cheeks. Her lips felt warm and familiar, comforting and hot at the same time, something he never felt with another person before. Armie had let a whole lot of angst and melodrama rule his life for a long time since he’d learned of his impending blindness. It was probably time to stop feeling sorry for himself.

As he pulled away from the kiss, he asked, “Will you help me onto the stage?”

“Yes,” she said a bit too quickly. She cleared her throat, her voice deepening and becoming more serious. “Yes, of course.”

She took his arm and guided one of his legs until he knelt on the stage, then told him to push up off the floor. Armie expected to bang his other knee as it made the journey, but she was there, stopping its progression and changing the angle so it missed the edge. Soon Armie was settled onto the floor of the stage, and she’d been perfectly wonderful helping him to get there.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“You couldn’t just let the moment pass? You had to rub it in.”

“Hey, I am not going to let even the small accomplishments go by unnoticed.” Her voice softened. “That’s how important you are.” She struggled to get the next words out, her breath hitching. Armie slid a hand over, palm up, then enveloped her fingers as she met his. “That’s how important Mitch is.”

“Despite what he said?”

“Did you hear the rabbi’s story? He’s hurt and scared. Of course he acted defensively.”

“He— What he did to us before throwing us out…what he did to me. I don’t let other men do that often. It needs to be someone I can give in to, someone I can trust. He shit on that trust.”

“Your need for control, that’s another hang-up from going blind?”

“No, I mean yes, a little. But I was like this before my sight went. My sisters and I physically lost our parents when we were teenagers, but they’d emotionally deserted us a long time ago. It wasn’t until Ophi received full custody of us that we became a real family. If anything…my control issues stem from there. All our issues do.”

Leighanne’s clothes rustled. “I’m gonna sit in your lap.” Her butt landed in the cradle of his crossed legs with barely a sound. She was so slight he could pick her up and hold her to him. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and sighed into her hair as she rested her head against his chest. “We all have issues, Armie, especially Mitch.”

“Okay, Dr. Freud.”

She smacked him playfully. “Listen to me. Imagine going through what he did. How hard it would be to trust again.”

Armie knew where this would lead; he’d already known the second he overheard the rabbi’s story. What he didn’t know, was why he continued to fight it. “What if we give him another chance and he spits on us again?” Armie buried his face in her neck, comforted by the clove and cinnamon scent of her hair. “I felt so fucking dirty afterward.”

“He won’t…he wants to be loved. He wants us to love him.”

“Do we?”

“I think we do.”

“Do you think he’ll believe us if we say that?”

“He needs us.”

And they needed him.

Mitch greeted the people of the town congenially. He and the rabbi stood at the doors to the gym, the rabbi introducing him and Mitch wishing them a happy holiday season. Mitch was surprised to see so many non-Jewish attendees, especially when the first night of Hanukkah had ended up being on Christmas Eve this year.

“We support each other in this community, young man,” Rabbi Schultz said when Mitch asked about it. “No matter our differences.”

That was a little heavy-handed, even for the rabbi. Mitch only smiled at him in response and continued greeting the guests. Thinking about the hole in his heart wasn’t an option if he needed to get through the night. He’d thought letting Armie and Leighanne go would make things better, make his path clearer, but he’d only become more confused. The look on Armie’s face after Mitch refused to care for him had been a dagger in Mitch’s gut. He would have pummeled any guy who’d done that to him, thinking him the scum of the earth. What had come over him?

But he knew. The usual fear had led him by the balls and turned him into somebody he didn’t like. Shit needed to change, and quick.

Once the gym was full, everyone taking their seats at the round tables, the rabbi and Mitch made their way up to the stage. A table with a large and intricate metal menorah was set up at the edge. Matches and two candles lay on the lace-covered surface, ready to be lit. Mitch touched his yarmulke, making sure it lay flat to his head. He glanced over to the band equipment setup, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he recognized Leighanne’s electric guitar resting in its cradle. She was here.

The rabbi began his speech, telling the tale of the Maccabees and their fight against the army, their victory, and the rededication of their temple in Jerusalem. Mitch knew the story well. He loved this holiday, but for the first time in years he didn’t listen to the retelling. He only searched the crowd for Leighanne, hoping to catch a glimpse of her long hair and chocolate-brown eyes. It had barely been two days, and he missed her so much.

He didn’t find her, but he found Armie, sitting with his family at a table with an electric menorah at the center. He looked dashing in a collared button-down shirt and the yarmulke pushing his unruly curls down. He wasn’t fully Jewish—it came from his father’s side—but it was a sign of respect that he wore it, that he was even here to begin with. Armie’s sensual mouth was tight, his jaw tense. He seemed anxious. Of course he knew Mitch was up on the stage, and he was probably coming up with excuses to get out of there as quick as possible. If his family wasn’t so involved with the community, Mitch doubted Armie would have even come.

Mitch forced himself to return his attention to the rabbi when he heard his name.

“Now, in honor of our new beginning—our rededication of the JCA, as it were—I would like to introduce Mitchell Karmi, who will make a short announcement, then help me in lighting the candles. Mitch?” The rabbi stepped aside, gesturing for Mitch to stand before the menorah.

Before he began to speak, the band walked out on the stage and took their places at their instruments. Leighanne was radiant. Her long hair was back in a waterfall of curls and braids, her dark skin glowed with the subtle blue and red lighting coloring the stage, but it was her kind and optimistic eyes that made Mitch hope all wasn’t lost for them, that maybe he hadn’t fucked up too much.

He looked out into the audience to see Armie, his face turned in Mitch’s direction, giving him his rapt attention. Surely if he’d meant to forget him, he would have left during Mitch’s speech? Maybe he was being strong and defiant, showing he had the control again. The thought was shoved away from Mitch’s mind like a cannon blast when Armie nodded at him, a smile appearing on his lips, his shoulders easing. How had he known that Mitch needed that approval so terribly?

Insanity struck Mitch, his inhibitions and concerns for propriety washing away like rain clearing a bloody field after a long, long battle. He’d been battling a silent enemy since that awful, nightmarish night. It wasn’t the men who’d attacked him or the towns that looked down on him. It was himself. His fear.

Mitch looked down, touching the two candles, warmed by even their inert presence. His ancestors had fought for their right to worship in their own temple, in their own way. It was Mitch’s turn to fight now, for something he desperately wanted, something he had to believe in. Mitch turned back toward the rabbi, whispering what he intended to do.

The rabbi’s thick eyebrows shot up in surprise, but the chortle and the nod was more than reaffirming, giving Mitch the courage he needed. His skin broke out in a cold sweat as he faced the audience, his breath became short, but he powered through.

“Good evening. I would like to switch the order of things a bit and light the candles before making my announcement—”

“What are you gonna do with the JCA?” a woman in a wheelchair called from the side of the room. “We all wanna know!”

“Mrs. Berkin!” Nettie Croft called to the woman. “Behave!”

The crowd chuckled, easing Mitch a bit.

“I will get to that after the ceremony, Mrs. Berkin.”

“All right, fine,” she said in a huff, waving him on like a queen.

“Thank you.” He couldn’t help but smile at the woman clearly used to getting her own way. “As I said, I want to light the candles first, but I would like to call two members of our community up onto the stage to help me.” He paused, taking a deep breath before saying, “Two people I’ve come to care a great deal for since moving here. Leighanne Misra and Armie Croft.”

Mitch didn’t wait to see people’s reactions; he couldn’t bear looks of censure or disgust while offering his heart up on a plate in front of a good chunk of the community. Instead he turned behind him and focused on Leighanne. Her big brown eyes were even bigger tonight as she stared at him in shocked wonder. He offered her his hand and asked so only she could hear, “Will you light my candle?”

The tension drained from her shoulders as she chuckled and rolled her eyes at him, understanding the musical reference. Without another second’s hesitation she took his hand and walked back to the menorah.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, smiling up at him. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, but she let it go as he leaned down to kiss her. The kiss was chaste, at least by their standards, but Mitch played with the ends of her long hair, tugging slightly, hoping she knew he intended to do much more than just kiss her to make up for his behavior. There were sighs and coos from a few members of the audience, but the show wasn’t over yet.

“I may need some help getting up there.”

Mitch looked out into the audience, his heart pounding as he watched Armie stand at his table. He’d asked for help…in front of all these people? Mitch didn’t wait another second to give the proud man what he needed.

“Wait here,” he said to Leighanne before jumping off the stage and running to Armie. Some of the older attendees gasped at his outrageous feat of acrobatics, though his knees were protesting the move without the proper footwear. But he didn’t give a flying fuck. Armie was there, his hand held out, waiting to be guided like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t asked for help in front of at least two hundred people when doing it in front of two not just a few days ago had been agony for him, a reminder of his new weakness.

Mitch took Armie’s hand, but instead of guiding him, Mitch pulled him in close, in a position that almost looked like dancing. He framed Armie’s face, needing to touch the heavy stubble along his jaw, then kissed him, as he had Leighanne, leaving no room for the guests to guess at what was happening here. He pulled away, wanting to say so many things. I’m sorry. I was an ass. I’m afraid but being with you both makes it better, and I couldn’t see it. You helped me find my faith again.

“Come on,” was all he said, wrapping his arm around Armie’s shoulder to guide him toward the steps on the side of the stage. Mitch wouldn’t expect him to crawl up the way Mitch had come.

Once back at the podium, Mitch handed Armie and Leighanne each one of the two candles, then turned to the rabbi. “We’re ready.”

Rabbi Schultz raised both hands to the audience. “Everyone please stand for the lighting of the candles.” The audience watched as Mitch guided Leighanne and Armie through the ceremony.

Mitch swiped a match, then pulsed the flame over the wick of Leighanne’s candle while she held the shammash, the helper candle meant to light the other flames. He blew out the match before it could burn him, then held Armie’s arm up.

“Leighanne, light the bottom of Armie’s candle.”

“Don’t burn me,” Armie joked, holding the candle out.

“Never dream of it,” Leighanne said, the reflection of the candle’s flame turning her dark skin a deep purple.

“Armie, you’re going to put the candle in the spot furthest to the right.” Then, because Mitch wanted them to know more about his culture, more about him, he said, “Candles are placed right to left, as Hebrew is read right to left. Then Leighanne will light the wick with the shammash.”

Mitch moved Armie’s hand toward the spot farthest to the right and smiled as Armie used both hands to place the first candle. Leighanne lit the candle and, without being asked, burned the bottom of her own candle to melt the wax, then placed it in the center position. Mitch kissed them both on the cheek.

“Thank you.” There was so much more he needed to say to them, so many ways to beg forgiveness and praise them for their kindness, for not rejecting him after he’d pulled them onstage. But there wasn’t time right then.

The rabbi folded his hands in front of him, closed his eyes, and the haunting quality of his voice rang out loud and clear over the audience, like an old bell watching over a town from its steeple.

“Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tsivanu l'hadlik ner shel Hanukkah.”

Mitch translated the beautiful words to his lovers.

“Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of all, who hallows us with mitzvot, commanding us to kindle the Hanukkah lights.”

“Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, she-asah nisim laavoteinu v'imoteinu bayamim hahaeim baz'man hazeh.”

“Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of all, who performed wondrous deeds for our ancestors in days of old at this season.”

“Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, shehecheyanu v'kiy'manu v'higianu laz'man hazeh.”

Mitch took both their hands before speaking the last part of the prayer, the extra phrase meant for the first night only.

“Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of all, for giving us life, for sustaining us, and for enabling us to reach this season.”

The quiet in the gym as the prayer ended was peaceful and contemplative. Mitch felt warmed, not by the heat of the small candles but by the love held in his heart and soul for Armie and Leighanne, and yeah, he couldn’t call it anything else.

It was an ache and a deep fear and a vibrant joy all at once.

The rabbi opened his eyes and spoke to the crowd, making an announcement about food and music to follow. But all Mitch could see were Leighanne and Armie.

“Will you come with me? I want to talk. There are things I need to explain.”

“Yes.” Armie’s answer was immediate, as was Leighanne’s nodding head.

“Thank you.” He guided them off the stage and into the poolroom, where it had all started. He had them sit on the benches lining the wall, then began to pace, wondering how he was going to get these words out.

“Is he pacing?” Armie asked, turning toward Leighanne.

“Yup. Seems nervous.”

Mitch turned to them, not knowing where to start. “There aren’t enough words in the English language to say how sorry I am.”

“Nope,” Armie said, shaking his head. “Try again.”

“What?” Mitch was confused. What did Armie mean? “I’m trying to apologize.”

“No, you’re schmoozing us.”

“We want honesty, Mitch.” Leighanne leaned her head on Armie’s shoulder, waiting.

“Tell us why you sent us away.” Armie swallowed hard before adding, “Why you treated us the way you did.”

“I’m sorry for that—”

“Stop apologizing and just fucking talk to us.”

“Five years ago I was beaten and left for dead for loving a man.” A hammer hit the wall where Mitch’s secrets were kept, and now they spilled like blood from an artery. “Nobody helped me. I was able to find my cell and call 911 after waking from unconsciousness. I’d never felt so—so alone in my entire life. The people who hurt me, they’d welcomed me into their home. They fed me. We shared beers and talked about sports. They were the family of the man I was seeing. They were good people.”

“No, sweetheart,” Leighanne said. “They weren’t.”

“I could never prove it, but a part of me…this new cynical part born in a hospital room over months of convalescing, thinks that they planned it. From the second they met me, they planned to take me down a peg. To put the fag in his place.”

“What happened to the man?” Armie asked, a dangerous tone to his voice. Mitch liked it a little.

“We never spoke again. He never came to see me in the hospital. I was worried they’d done something to him, but I later heard he up and left town. Probably ran away, worried he’d be next on his family’s list.” Mitch couldn’t blame his lover. Fear was a powerful force.

“I’m sorry.” The words were torn out of him this time, bloody and bleeding. “I was scared of how much I felt for you and how quickly. I was scared that people would see and I would get run out of town, that someone might come up behind me at my car at night again. Or worse, they might come up behind one of you two.

“I imagined, over and over, what would happen if we were discovered. I imagined persecution and bigotry and pain.” Mitch knelt at their feet, cupping their faces, needing them to see past what he presented to the world.

Please, just see me. It was God damn agony.

“But I also imagined what would happen if we all went away and lived in a bubble on some island where no one could hurt us. I liked that fantasy. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was good.”

“I like that idea too,” Armie said, leaning down to rub his cheek against Mitch’s. “But I live here. Leighanne lives here. We would like it if you lived here. No one is going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt us. Do you know why?”

Mitch shook his head, waiting for the answer. It was Leighanne who spoke.

“Because being three makes us stronger.” She moved down to the floor as well, nuzzling into his chest. “It’s okay to be scared, Mitch.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”

“What did I say?” Armie asked, gripping Mitch’s shoulder as he lowered himself, all of them on their knees, on equal footing. “We don’t want your apologies. We want you.”

“After everything I did? How I treated you after…”

“Don’t worry,” Leighanne said, her breath against his ear. “We’ll think of many, many, many ways for you to make it up to us.”

Forgiveness could be a sweet yet bitter pill to swallow sometimes. Mitch wanted their censure as much as he wanted their kindness. But the kindness was good. It burned, but it was good.

“I will. Fuck. I promise I will.”

“Come here.”

Their lips met. It was messy and uncoordinated but made perfect by Armie gripping Mitch’s hair and the way Leighanne clutched at Mitch’s shirt, as though both of them couldn’t imagine him leaving, did all they could to make him stay.

Mitch shuddered as they broke away, then relished the feel of Armie pressing his head, guiding Mitch to rest against Armie’s chest. Leighanne leaned along Armie’s side, stroking Mitch’s hair, playing with the shell of his ear.

A chunk of Mitch’s heart that had gone missing five years ago, after that terrible night, began to regrow into something harder and stronger. It was almost painful to feel that part reforming, like blood rushing to a limb after falling asleep. Mitch expected he’d feel those phantom pains for a long time, but it was okay because Leighanne was right. They made each other stronger, and Mitch could only wonder at what he’d done in his life to deserve the affection of two people so brave and giving. He’d been starving for so long, and now they gave him a feast. He promised to never eat it all quickly, to not take their love for granted. He would cherish each bite, each touch, each sensation, and would do all he could to never let fear control him again.