My Gift

When he finally came out of the bathroom, Sam rushed him into his closet, pointing out the clothing she had set out for him. Confused, he looked up at her. “Sam, these are not my clothes, where did they come from?”

“They are my gift to you.”

He found that questionable, but he slipped on the shirt, noting with alarm that it worked perfectly well for his figure. “How come-”

“I know my way around measuring.”

At his raised eyebrow, she completed her statement. “And I stole one of your shirts to measure it with.”

“What a woman,” he laughed, turning to give her a forehead kiss. Completely dressed, she pulled him onto the chair in front of his dresser, oiling his scalp for a quick massage before she brushes his hair through.

Finished and satisfied with how they were both looking, she set out for the door, holding it open for him. He stepped out ahead of her and walked down the stairs, noting in awe that the entire mansion had been decorated. “Sam! How? I walked last here this morning, and