Page 191 of The Right Move

My eyes are burning with realization as I quickly jog across the bare living room to find my bedroom just as empty.

There’s nothing here. Not a single article of clothing or dish left in the sink. It’s completely unlivable and I think that’s the point. I think last night was the last time I had to sleep in this apartment that felt like a prison more times than it felt like a home.

I didn’t expect to feel lighter, but my chest deflates from the lifted weight, no longer having to see the physical representation of my trust issues every single day.

Instead of crossing the street to see my sister, I get in my car and head thirty minutes outside of the city. I remember the first time I drove up to this house. The overwhelming knowledge that this was where I wanted us to spend our lives hit me like a freight train, and making the drive tonight, it feels the same.

The front porch is fully lit as is the entire house and when I step inside, it’s almost unrecognizable from the place I drove away from three days ago. There are rugs, and curtains, and so many fucking throw pillows on the living room couch I’m not sure how you’re supposed to sit on it. A brand-new dining table takes up another room and is long enough to seat twelve. There are framed photos of us and our friends. There’s artwork on the walls, bright and colorful just like the girl who put it there.

This place is bursting with love and attention. I don’t know how else to explain it other than it feels like the textbook definition of a home.

I head straight through the foyer and under the stairs, not wasting a second to look at anything else while I look for her. In my gut, I know where she is. I’m drawn to her as always, finding her in the kitchen where we tend to have all our important conversations.

The flowers I left her are thriving in a vase in the center of the island, and my coffee machine is plugged into the wall with my mug resting below it and her pink cup beside it.

And there she is, blonde hair, lavender sundress, and embroidered Converse. Beautiful as always with that sunshine smile I’ll never tire of seeing. My best friend and the person who owns every part of me.

“Hi.”

I want to go to her, hold her, kiss her, but I’m also stunned into place seeing her in this home. The daydream I’ve replayed in my mind for months is now tangible and in front of me.

“Congrats on your game,” she continues. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, baby.” Cautiously, I look around the room, noting the changes she’s made. The dish towels that hang from the handle of the stove. The colorful rug she’s standing on. The curtain draped over the window behind the kitchen sink. “What’s going on?”

She motions for me to sit across the island from her, exactly where she sat a few days ago as I spoke. But this time, it’s her turn.

“Should we talk about the lease?”

I laugh. “The what?”

“The lease.”

You can hardly see the fridge through the papers littering the front thanks to all the promises we’ve made to each other. The deed to the house, our bucket lists, our original lease I made when she first moved into the apartment, which I knew from the morning I wrote it was a load of shit. That girl didn’t need to follow a single rule, didn’t need to pay a penny, because deep down there was that lonely part of me, desperate for her to stay.

Indy removes the newest add-on.

“First line item,” she says, grabbing a pen and hovering it over the paper. “Rent.”

“Blue, we own the house outright.”

She ignores me. “I’m going to need at least two ‘I love yous’ every morning and another before bed. I’m a bit needy, you know. Words of affirmation and all that. And we should really build an in-home library, and maybe a greenhouse in the back for winter.”

A laugh heaves in my chest. “I think I can handle that form of payment.”

“Well, that was easy. Let’s move on. Rules.” She writes the word down, identically matching the lease I made for her.

“What are your rules, Ind?”

Her soft brown eyes meet mine, melting in front of me. “We live our happiest lives out here. You and me. Even if it’s always just you and me. Even if children aren’t in our future, we remember how grateful we are to have found each other.”

I couldn’t agree more. “Deal.”

“But at the same time.” She holds up a single finger. “We try our hardest to fill every room in this house. I’m talking morning, afternoon, and evening. You think you practice a lot for basketball?” She laughs condescendingly. “That’s nothing, Shay.”

I can’t help it anymore as I stand from my stool and round the island to meet her. Gripping her hips, I kiss the top of her shoulder. “Deal.”

She turns to face me. “Ryan, I need you to know, when I was staying at Rio’s I didn’t have to think about whether you were the right person for me. There’s no question of how badly I want you or how much I love you. You know that, right?”

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