Page 67 of From the Ashes

“Coming!”I shout as I hobble as fast as I can to my front door. “Just a sec!”

When I open it, Zahir is waiting on the other side, smiling and looking as ridiculously handsome as ever. “You didn’t have to rush,” he says, shaking his head as he leans in to kiss me. “In fact, as a medical professional, I stringently advise against it.”

I grin against his lips and kiss him some more. “I was excited to see you,” I say in my defense. “And—look!” I point to my leg as he steps inside.

He raises his eyebrows. “The boot is gone!” he says happily.

“Well, not gone,” I admit, shutting the door behind us. “But it’s in a closet rather than on my foot full time now, yes. And the knee brace will probably stick around for at least four months,” I add with a sigh. “Who knows when I’ll be able to surf again.” I’m grateful that both my head injuries turned out to be minor, but the broken tibia has been a bit annoying.

Still, when I think of how much worse it could have been, things don’t seem so bad.

“Hey,” Zahir says kindly, ensnaring my fingers with his and pulling me in for a hug. “You’ll get there. You said PT was going well, right?” I nod. “So just be patient. It’s more important youheal the right way now so you don’t have complications down the line.”

I gasp in fake shock. “Wow, you almost sound like a medical professional.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “I do get that you hate being cooped up,” he says sympathetically as he rubs my arm. “So much has changed recently, yet you’ve spent most of it in this place.”

“At least this place is looking good, right?” I say as we wander slowly toward the kitchen area so I can pour us some iced tea.

He grins and squeezes my hand. “It really is,” he agrees.

Not only do I have his beautiful tryptic paintings hanging on the wall now, but the large piece from our senior year is the main focus of the living room. At a glance, it doesn’tlooklike us making love on the beach, and after so long hiding my true self away, it gives me a thrill to have it out in the open when people visit.

Because people do visit, especially while I’ve been recovering. So I got brand new forest-green sofas for them to sit on. There’scolorin my apartment now. I have lampshades and art and trinkets all over the damn place that speak to who I am and bring me joy. There’s also a rug on the floor and bowls of potpourri on the windowsills.

Who even am I?

Of course, Zahir has been here the most, but a couple of times he’s brought Yara or a few of the other guys from the One-Thirteen. It’s crazy to me that they’ve just accepted me as Zahir’s boyfriend after everything that happened in our past, but they have. And now I’m apparently part of the One-Thirteen family, which makes it sound like a cult you can’t escape from, except I love it.

I love them.

Even Farah has forgiven me, it seems, because she’s been over here at least once a week, filling up my refrigerator withhome-cooked meals I either just need to put in the oven or the microwave. She calls me her bad boy and pinches my cheek and tells me that having a broken leg is no excuse for socks all over the floor.

I think I enjoy when she gets cross with me the most. Because it means she really cares.

My own family…I’m not so sure what’s going on there. My parents have visited exactly one time since the earthquake, and even though they said nothing, it was clear they were embarrassed by my ‘tacky’ new décor. That just validates my choices, if I’m honest.

My mom is still tearful and dancing around the issue of my sexuality. My father is furious I really went through with handing my notice in at the firm. I can see they’retryingto find a way to still connect with me, though, so I’m willing to keep the door open for them.

At least for the time being.

I’ve been mostly working through my notice period remotely, which suits me just fine. My father might hate it, but I think he has forced himself to acknowledge that I’ve been phoning it in since I arrived, and he’ll be much better off appointing a managing partner that actually wants the position. It’s pretty obvious to me that Preston Windward would be a perfect fit.

A few more weeks of handover work, and I’ll be free. To do what…I’m not sure. But I can figure that out once I’ve got two fully functioning legs again.

Speaking of the only friend I made at Ross & Associates, Preston has also been a regular visitor. His version of feeding me is chips and dip, but he brings his boxer, Jack, with him who likes to put his big head in my lap and lovingly stare at me, as if that will make me heal faster.

I actually think there’s some science to that, if I’m honest.

Portia has genuinely become a good friend, too, and has kept me company on several evenings when Zahir’s been working. I’m ashamed to say she’s got me hooked on some truly terrible reality TV shows.

And then there’s Elizabeth and the kids, who came over with little Rebecca and all three of her parents for a playdate last week. That was kind of intense, but weirdly in a really fun way. I thought having children in my home would be an awful experience, but they weren’t the hellions I was envisioning they’d be. They played a board game on the floor while the adults talked for an hour, and the older girls were fascinated when I showed them my miniature Zen garden and how to use the little rake to make patterns in the sand.

I bought that as a present to myself so I’d never forget the day I dared to come out to my parents. The day I said out loud that I love Zahir and was his boyfriend. Yeah, it’s also the day I almost died, but nothing’s ever perfect, and you can’t have the light without the dark.

My other reminder of that day is a little bigger, but I needed more feature pieces in this bland, empty apartment anyway.

In the aftermath of the earthquake, the owners of the Jiyu Sushi Bar cared way more about rebuilding the restaurant than they did about me keeping the two koi carp I rescued. In fact, they were concerned with how they were going to care for the ones in the tanks that didn’t break, so having two less was a small relief for them.

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