I hear the door close, then silence. “Honey is that you?” I ask, sticking my head out from the kitchen.
“Yeah,” he grunts. “I’m home. Jesus, what a day. This just won’t end. It just won’t end.”
I furrow my brow and come out to greet him. The kiss is cold from the spring chill and his eyes are not seeing me. I cup his cheek. “Are you really alright? You’re in shock.”
Laurent runs his fingers through his shoulder-length auburn hair. “I can’t feel anything. I’m totally numb. Last week I found out I’m likely losing my job in the merger. Found out today my dad has cancer, and someone’s been using my credit card without my permission… just one thing after another. ” I help Laurent off with his coat. “I can’t even remember leaving the office and getting here…”

“My poor Laurent.” I put an arm around his shoulders. Despite his strong build, he feels fragile and unsteady. “Come to the kitchen, you need to sit down.”  My boyfriend just grunts and lets me lead him.

I sit him down in a kitchen chair and put a glass of strawberry milk in front of him. “Here,” I say.
“What’s this?” he asks.
“Your drink, to wash this down.” I fetch the plate off the counter and hold it in front of him.

Laurent stares at it, blankly. “How did you…”
“Your mother told me,” I answer. “I called her today, because I was worried about you. She said when you were little and having a bad time at things, she would make you Happy Cake so you’d feel better. She told you the sprinkles were made of real, dried rainbows and they were medicine that only works on children. So…how did I do?”
Lauren takes the plate and cups it in his hands, as if shielding it from his shitty week. “It’s beautiful, Alain. I forgot how pretty the colors were. You know, I used to ask my mother what flavor the cake was and she said ‘sun flavored’. I thought vanilla was ‘sun flavored’ for years,” he chuckles. “Jesus, it’s just perfect.” Laurent lowers the plate to the table and picks up his fork, but he hesitates to molest it.

I put my hand over his other hand, loosely curled on the table. “Laurent.” Our eyes meet. “Everything is to be ok. We’ll know more on Monday about your father’s cancer, but the doctor was optimistic wasn’t he? And the credit card company froze your card right? The assets are protected. About your job, well, maybe you’ll find another job you’ll love even more. You still have me too, no matter what happens.”

Laurent swallows, hard, and he tries to make some words come out but his throat is too tight. I pat his arm and nod understandably. I get up to get my own piece of cake, and we sit there in calm silence and eat.

I watch out of the corner of my eye as Laurent methodically carves up his dessert and eats every bite in his usual fastidious manner. When every crumb has been collected and every sip of milk is gone, Laurent sets his fork on his empty plate and dabs his mouth with a napkin.

“Alain?” Laurent asks. He has a slight accent from his childhood in the south of France and I love how he says my name.
“Yes?” I reply.
“Would you like to go upstairs and make love?”
The tone in his voice makes the hairs go up on the back of my neck. He didn’t say ‘fuck’ or ‘have sex’, he said make love. “You’re up for that?” I reply, cautious.
Laurent nods. “I…I need it. I need you. I feel like my emotions, my feelings, are all backed up and I can’t hit unpause. You are so kind to me, so loving, that when we’re together I just dissolve and drift into pieces like foam on the sea. I need that. I need you to unravel me or I’m going to break.”
I can see the pain on Laurent’s face, clear as day. He needs to cry, but he can’t. I finish my last bite of cake and drain my milk. “I would love that. I’ll put on the heater, make it warm. You go get ready, I’ll make us some tea.”
“Tea. Yes. Good idea.” Laurent pushes away from the table and shuffles to the bedroom like a zombie.

Later, when the sheets are stained and I am blessedly tingling all over, I rock Laurent as he sobs into my arms. Change scares him. Losing his father, his best friend, before we have children, scares him. Financial instability scares him. In one week, everything he could count on to be stable has crumbled. Eventually he collapses into exhausted sleep around me, and I tuck him into bed.

The next morning, when I wake up, Laurent is already sitting up and gazing out the window. It’s kind of hard to see his face as the sun pours over the bed.
“Laurent…?” I say softly.
To my cautious delight, he smiles. “Look. It rained last night, and it’s just beautiful today. Come here, to this side of the bed – watch the mess now – look! Can you see it? There’s a rainbow over those hills.”
“Yeah – yeah I see it. Wow, Laurent. It’s a beauty.” I slide my fingers into his, interlocking them, and we share it together.

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Text is fictional. This is not the first time I’ve made a post with just a picture of cake, lol. Pic is watermarked for ownership.