Page 138 of One More Chapter

“The only way we fail is when we give up on each other. When we fight each other instead of the problems ahead. It’s about how we get back up, remember?”

fifty-four

anthony

The newlywed Russosthrow one hell of a party.

We danced our asses off, stuffed our faces at the ten-o’clock pizza bar, and laughed until we cried. Well, Aaron just cried. But I can’t blame the guy. Just thequestionP asked me about seeing my future wife coming down the aisle made me tear up at the thought of her in a white dress.

My heart feels so much lighter with her forgiveness, at the way she had asked for mine too. Deep down, I knew I already had it. But having her say the words out loud confirmed that we’re finally in the same place—the same page, the same chapter, the same book for once. As the night wore on, it made me wonder if asking her again to stay at my place while the drama with hers gets sorted out would be too much too soon. Then, at the end of the night, a sign slaps me in the face.

“You need a ride home, boss?” I ask, after we’ve helped pack up as much as we can from the hall. We’re not quite holding hands, but wedokeep bumping them together. Her cheeks pinken, and she stops in the middle of the lobby.

“What’s that face for?”

“Oh! Nothing. It’s just that uh… Your mom didn’t tell you?” Her eyes crinkle in confusion. “She rented the place out forValentine’s Day and forgot to tell us. I guess, since you have your place now, it wasn’t really a problem, but I’ve actually been moving all of my stuff to storage over the past week. I’m staying at the hotel for the time being.”

She points to the elevator bank beside us. I hope that my silent little nod in thanks skyward isn’ttooobvious.

“Nah. Don’t do that.”

She tilts her head and raises one brow slightly, in a way that reminds me that nobody tells Penelope Barker what to do.

“Stay with me. The offer’s still on the table. I promise, there are enough bedrooms.Ifyou need your own.”

The pink deepens to a scarlet color that I want to taste, but I rein it in and hold out my hand. When she takes it, the potential in my head explodes into fireworks.

Our drive is mostly silent. When we pull into the driveway, the three car garage opening, she gasps.

“This is your house?” I nod. “Anthony… It’sbeautiful.”

A beaming pride illuminates my chest.

“Thanks. Wanna see the inside?”

She nods, and I know thatherreaction to my grand tour will be the most important.

I show her the mudroom outfitted with cubbies right off the garage, the kitchen with the butler’s pantry, and the living room with vaulted ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the yard. The basement isn’t quite finished yet, but with walls up for guest rooms and a full bathroom, it’s got great potential for later on down the road.

After climbing the stairs, I show her the five bedrooms—mostly guest outfitted for the time being—and pause outside the master, placing a finger against my lips.

“This is Mom and Dad’s room. We’re not supposed to go in here.”

She giggles. The exact sound these four walls were missing.

“Is that the end of the tour?”

“Nope,” I say, popping the “p” to hide my nervousness. I guide her back downstairs to the one room we haven’t been in yet.

“So this… This is my favorite project to date.” Folding my hands in front of my waist, I roll back and forth from heel to toe, knowing that no amount of pep talk could calm the bees in my head.

“Are you going to open it?” she asks.

“Nope. That honor is all yours.”

I step aside, gesturing with a sweeping motion to the one doorknob that looks different than the rest of the house.

“What is that?” she asks, her hand raised just above it.

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