Page 122 of Under Water

“Would you hate the commute?” I ask.

Easton looks over at me and snorts. “No. But it’s far from Elio’s school.”

“I’ve dealt with a worse problem,” I remind him.

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I like it. A lot. I think it’s perfect.”

“But,” I press.

He blows out a puff of air, and I brace myself for him to tell me that maybe we are moving too fast. Maybe he is rethinking all of this.

I wouldn’t blame him.

The commitment is huge.

“I was kind of looking forward to making our own space from scratch. I thought Elio would have a blast being able to, you know, like design his own room and maybe the backyard.”

My relief hits me like a punch to the sternum, and I have to take a second to collect myself. “Is that all?”

Easton’s eyes widen. “Well, yeah, but⁠—”

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly when I realize he’s hurt. I shift closer and take his hand, pressing our joined fists between us. “I was kind of waiting for you to say you were changing your mind about all this.”

“All this,” he repeats, and I nod. “The house?”

“Yeah.”

“You?”

“Yeah.” This time, the word comes out a whisper.

“Your complicated life? Your son? The things that I don’t know if I can live without?” he murmurs.

I drop my head forward, and I feel him bury his nose in my hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be insecure.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You’ve been through hell and back and have spent years being convinced you’re not worth it. I am willing to be as patient as you need me to be and remind you that I want this. Okay?”

I nod. “I like the idea of building something with you. But I also like that something exists that’s ready to go. And if it means we don’t have to move again and uproot all of us from a place we’ll feel settled…”

“Yeah,” Easton sighs. “I agree. Plus, we could always invest in something really cool outdoors, like Leo and North have.”

I pull back and smile. “Elio would fucking die if you and him could design something like that. Something he can use.”

Easton looks excited all over again. He bounces on his toes, then grabs me by the back of the neck and kisses me, quick and fierce. “We’re doing this?”

The thrill it gives me to answer him almost sends me into fucking orbit. “We’re doing this.”

His eyes get a kind of faraway look, and he stares over my shoulder at the empty living room. “This is going to be our home.”

“Our home,” I repeat very quietly.

He kisses my palm, then my wrist, then my lips again. “I love you. So fucking much.”

I close my eyes and absorb those words as they were meant to be absorbed. I feel the truth in them, the weight heavy but not unbearable. And the lightness I feel when I can say the same makes it that much more precious.

“I love you too.”

He grins, then turns. “Maria. We’ll take it.”