Page 122 of P.S. You're Intolerable

“Yeah. There’s some tile work that isn’t done in the upstairs bathroom, but it’s basically done. I’m pretty prou—”

“When will you be moving back here?”

My mouth slammed shut, and my heart wentboom, shaking me down to my core.

He raised an expectant brow, waiting for my answer. I thought about what Davida would say…what she’dbeensaying all along. That Joey and I needed our own space. It was fine and dandy to fall in love, but having a home base that was only mine made the most sense.

“Well, I could move back here anytime, really. Obviously, I didn’t want to do it while you were gone, but…”

Tell me to stay. Please tell me and I will.

His jaw rippled. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I nodded, the pieces of my exploded heart fluttering like confetti. “I guess there’s no time like the present.”

This was the right thing to do. Moving back here didn’t mean we were breaking up, even though it felt like it at the moment.

Most couples didn’t live together so early in the relationship. This was a good thing. We’d both have some breathing room and when we saw each other at work and maybe on date nights, it would be even more exciting.

This was for the best.

It was right.

We’d both be happier this way.

And if Elliot really was pulling away from me, I’d already have my lovely home to live in and nurse my shredded fucking heart.

“Efficient,” Elliot muttered. “Right, well, I have to head to the office for a few hours. I’ll take you back to my place so you can pack your things. Anything big I can bring later.”

I straightened my shoulders and put on a shiny smile. “That sounds like a plan. Let’s get going.”

I could be brave. This was a good thing.

Joey and I had been happy living with Elliot, but we would be happy here too. We would make memories, and if we were lucky, Elliot would be part of a lot of them. But if he wasn’t, if he really wanted out, we’d still have each other.

Chapter Thirty-five

Elliot

Tenp.m.onaSaturday night in the office wasn’t unusual for me. In fact, I used to look forward to the weekends so I could spend late nights alone, in silence, getting my work done without anyone bothering me.

The last few months, things had changed, and home had held far more enticement than work.

Until today.

Without Catherine and Joey, I had no interest in returning. My plan was to work until I couldn’t keep my eyes open then go home and crash.

Rinse and repeat tomorrow.

I’d run the moment I’d left her over and over in my head, trying to find something I could have done differently. She hadn’t been flipping with joy when I’d driven away, but she’d been so fucking enthusiastic about her house I hadn’t been able to see a way to deny her.

We weren’t broken up. That wasn’t what I wanted, and I was nearly certain it wasn’t what Catherine wanted. But our relationship was changing in a way I did not agree with.

I would get used to this.

Catherine and I would still see each other daily, and I would be able to see Joey…well, probably not daily anymore.

“Motherfucker.”

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