Page 185 of The Right Move

“You said you weren’t good with words, but I think words of affirmation might be your love language. Or acts of service. Or gift-giving. God, I don’t even know anymore.”

He chuckles.

“I love you.”

“I love you, Blue. So fucking much and I’ll fight for you forever, but I need you to fight for us too. Now eat your breakfast, it’s getting cold.”

He adds one final kiss on my forehead before heading towards the front door.

“Ryan.”

He turns to face me.

“Why did you pay for my fertility treatments? I didn’t want anyone paying for that.”

“No, you didn’t want your parents paying for that. You said you felt uncomfortable for someone else paying for you to start a family. Well, it’s going to be my family too, so I don’t count.”

“But that was back in December. Even then?”

He knew even then?

“Even then.”

With that, he leaves me with my breakfast and a giant house that he wants to fill with our family.

42

INDY

I can only eat half of the French toast Ryan made me. I wish he stayed and finished the rest.

I’m overwhelmingly full from his words, from the knowledge that he bought this house months ago. That he paid for my fertility treatments months ago. It has absolutely nothing to do with the money. I might joke that I’m an expensive girlfriend, but I couldn’t care less about how much money he makes. I’d be happy to live in a cardboard box with that guy.

But the meaning behind the gesture, that’s what’s so overwhelming. That he’s known all this time he wanted to have a family with me. I just wanted us to be on the same page, but this? This is more than my romantic heart could dream of.

Finally leaving the kitchen after a solid hour of sitting in pure shock, I take myself on a self-guided tour. The first level flows from one room to another, separated only by walls when necessary. It’s open and airy. The perfect space for guests to mingle while I host. I can picture Ryan’s team dinners here, and nights of having our friends over. Stevie’s baby shower, and hopefully, one day, my own.

The walls still smell of fresh paint, and the floor looks newly replaced. The first floor boasts both a family and living room, a dining room, and a casual breakfast nook. Even if I picked my dream home out of a magazine, it still wouldn’t be as perfect as this one.

Taking one set of stairs, I find the second floor. Four bedrooms are connected by two jack and jill bathrooms. This floor also includes a large loft and all I can picture is the potential for it to be a playroom.

Up one more flight of stairs, I’m greeted with the primary bedroom which makes up the entirety of the third floor. Tall windows face the backyard, letting in so much warmth and light. There’s a bench seat under one of them and I can’t help but dream of reading here or watching my family play together outside. My bed is in this room as are my books and clothes, all set up and put away.

The room is huge, this house is huge, and I can feel this space bursting with energy, needing to be filled with family and friends.

And as I step outside onto the back porch, filling my lungs with fresh spring air, I can imagine it all. But being here feels wrong without him, which I’m sure was his intention when he asked me to stay and think.

I don’t need to think. The second his actions backed up the words, I didn’t need to ponder anything else. Ryan is it for me. It didn’t take six years for me to know. It didn’t even take six months. My heart has been his even when I thought I didn't have any left of it to give.

He healed it when someone else broke it, and now it’s his forever.

I never liked being alone. The silence would allow the insecurities to creep in. That I’m not enough or that I’m far too much. That I’m not deserving of the life I want. I’d wear that perfect mask in public, ensuring others were comfortable around me. Not too happy. Not too sad. Not too talkative, but not too quiet either. It was exhausting.

But here, sitting on the back porch of the house Ryan bought for us, I’m content. I’m at peace.

I’m home.

I’ve gained a new appreciation for the quiet since I met Ryan. The silence allows for a moment of introspection. Now, that silence screams with reminders that I’m worthy. That I’m deserving of the love I read about. I’m deserving of the family I desire, and I know this because I fell in love with a man while I was being completely and utterly myself and he fell right alongside me.

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