Page 88 of Nesting With My Three Alphas
"Third and fourth thoughts," I admitted. "What if I'm not cut out for this? What if I can't handle being responsible for a whole house? What if my art career never takes off and I end up being a financial burden for the next thirty years?"
Micah set down his knife and turned to face me fully. "Kit, do you trust us?"
"Of course."
"Do you trust that we love you?"
"Yes." The answer came easier now than it would have a month ago.
"Do you trust that we wouldn't make this decision lightly?"
I considered that. Jonah, who'd spent years building a stable life for Charlie. Reed, who approached every project with meticulous planning. Micah, who'd learned hard lessons about the fragility of happiness and wouldn't risk what we'd built without serious consideration.
"Yes," I said finally.
"Then trust this too." Micah stepped closer, his warm hands framing my face. "Trust that we're building something worth building. Trust that you deserve this happiness. Trust that love isn't a transaction that requires constant payment."
"I'm scared," I whispered.
"Good," Micah said softly. "Being scared means it matters. Being scared means you're brave enough to want something big and beautiful and real."
"What if I mess it up?"
"Then we'll fix it together. That's what families do."
The signing happened on a Thursday morning, all four adults clustered around a conference table while Charlie colored in a corner and provided running commentary on the proceedings.
"That's a lot of papers," she observed as we worked through the stack of documents.
"It's a lot of house," Reed replied, signing his name with a flourish.
"Are you sure we can afford it?" I asked for the hundredth time as I stared at the final purchase agreement.
"We can afford it," Jonah said patiently. "Kit, we've been over the numbers. Between all our incomes and the equity from selling this house, we're actually in really good shape."
"Plus I'm contributing my seventeen dollars," Charlie added helpfully.
"Plus Charlie's significant financial contribution," Micah agreed seriously.
When it was my turn to sign, I stared at the line where my name would go. Kit Lennox. Soon to be, potentially, Kit Maddox-West-Thornton, though we hadn't quite figured out the logistics of that particular complication.
But seeing my name there, claiming ownership of something beautiful and permanent and ours, it felt like the final step in becoming someone I actually liked being.
I signed my name with a steady hand.
"Congratulations," the lawyer said, shaking hands with all of us. "You're officially homeowners."
"We did it," Charlie said, bouncing in her chair. "We got the house!"
"We got the house," I repeated, still not quite believing it.
"We got the house," Reed confirmed, pulling me into a hug that smelled like relief and motor oil and home.
That afternoon, we drove to our new house with the keys in Jonah's pocket and big plans for how we'd arrange everything.
"Art studio first," Charlie announced as we walked through the front door. "Kit needs to see her space."
So we trooped to the sunroom, where late afternoon light streamed through the windows and made everything glow golden.
