I snorted out a laugh as Mallori dropped the blanket to Max's pull-out bed. We liked to snuggle under that blanket while we watched television. It came in handy when the kids came bounding down the basement stairs without warning.
"Oh my," she grumbled.
"Don't worry," I said to her. "I washed it last week."
Max glanced up from his shoes to shoot a wink in my direction. "Last week was a good time."
"I might not miss this part," Mallori said under her breath. "Will you guys come visit? Promise me you'll visit."
"Of course," I replied as I rolled my ties into neat coils.
"Yeah," Max agreed. "Why wouldn't we leave our sunny new apartment with non-dungeon-y bathrooms and all that unnecessary privacy to come here and get psychoanalyzed for an hour? Don't know about you, Jory, but I can't think of a single reason."
Mallori shook her head but Max didn't notice. He'd moved on to packing the shirts hanging in his closet.
"I know, I know," she said. "You want your space. You deserve that. I get it."
"We will miss you too." I caught her eye from the opposite side of the room and nodded as reassuringly as I could manage. "I mean it, Mal."
No exaggeration there. I'd lived much of the past two months in the garden apartment—as I preferred to call it—and with that came more time with Mallori. I still wasn't comfortable in anyone's home but my own, though this place had come to feel like a place where I belonged. It was also a serious upgrade from my apartment with Claude. I hated paying for something I didn't use, but life was less stressful when I woke up beside Max.
Even if I woke up to the sounds of children screeching at each other over control of the television remote at six o'clock on a Saturday morning.
Even with my things scattered across two apartments, two cars, and my classroom.
Even when all of this upheaval and transition was hell on my anxiety.
"The kids are going to miss you too," she continued.
"The kids are going to miss cockblocking me," Max muttered from the closet.
Mallori rolled her eyes at that and crossed the room, an empty box in hand. "Jory, what am I going to do without you?"
"You're probably going to have to talk to your husband again," Max said. "You remember him, right?"
"When did you get so mouthy?"
He pointed at me. "It's all his fault."
True facts. No sense disputing this.
Mallori circled the room and surveyed our work, her arms folded over her torso as she nodded at each stack of books and boxes. After a considerable pause, she asked, "What am I going to do with this space now?"
Max looked up from his work of folding shirts. "What do you mean?"
She waved her hands between us like that explained everything. "You're not moving back. That's obvious. You're always welcome here, don't get me wrong, but you're with Jory now. You have your first place together, and eventually you'll find another place, and someday, you might decide to get married and—and you're leaving, Max. I'm feeling a whole lot of things about that, but most of all, I'm proud of you." She snatched a pillowcase from one of the laundry baskets and used it to mop the tears from her cheeks. "And you too," she said to me. "I'm so happy it's you. I'm happy you found each other."
I watched Max as a rush of emotions played out on his face. "I guess you're right. This…this is it, huh?" He glanced toward me, a wide, cheeky grin lighting up his face. "You're stuck with me, babe."
Mallori blotted a fresh round of tears, saying, "I'm just going to head upstairs and pack some food for you to take. I don't want you to worry about finding a local grocery store or figuring out which restaurants deliver tonight. You have enough happening. I can take care of this for you."
She continued rattling off a list of reasons she needed to ply us with food, but neither Max nor I were listening.
"Is it real now?" I asked.
He rubbed a hand over the nape of his neck. "Yeah."
"Good-real?" I asked as I approached him. "Or scary-real?"
He leveled me with an impatient glare that said I wasn't to doubt him. "Amazing-real. Totally fucking amazing. I get to start the rest of my life with you. This is it. This is the next adventure, babe. When we look back, we'll talk about the year we dated. Before we moved in together. And just like Mal said, we'll have this first place, and then a second place, and as many others as there are after that."
"And then we'll differentiate between before you married my ass off and after."
He reached for me, locked his arms around my waist, and shoved his hand under my shirt. Just because he could. "That's right."
"What do you think about two summers from now? Not next year, but the year after? That will give me plenty of time to get my ass in shape to be married off."
He shifted his hand down, cupped my backside with a harsh, possessive squeeze. "Are you proposing to me, Hayzer?"
"Only if you're saying yes." Since I couldn't keep anything from this perfect man, I continued, "I thought about it, and the next year will be too busy. I'll be doing the STEAM collaborative, and we'll be figuring out how to live together, and we won't have time to plan a quality party."
"Which is essential," he mused, still grabbing my ass.
"Very. And we need to save money for this party. Plus, our friends and families need plenty of notice. I don't intend to compete with anyone for the ideal wedding date." I pressed my lips together to conceal a wicked grin. "And I like the idea of a long engagement."
"Why is that?"
"Because I want to enjoy this time, this slice of after dating and
