Page 67 of Designing Love
He shrugs playfully, eyes twinkling. “Strategy adjustment. Happens all the time in IT.”
Shaking my head, I cross our bright new office space, pausing by my desk. My half of this floor is a comfortable swirl of colorful textiles, art prints, and scattered sketches — the organized chaos that helps me think. Ethan’s side reflects him just as clearly: sleek, modern furniture mixed with quirky collectibles and hidden cords carefully taped along the back of the desk.
A sense of pride and quiet contentment swells inside me. This is ours. Not just the house — the life we’ve built together. The town, our new business, even our exuberant puppy snoring quietly on the plush sofa between our offices. Somehow, improbably, everything turned out right.
Tomorrow is the grand opening, our moment to officially share this new chapter with Bluewater Cove. Lucas volunteered coffee service with an enthusiasm that suggested he might’ve been sampling too many espressos. Even Simon — who’s made it his life’s mission to annoy Ethan — has been invited. However, Ethan did threaten to revoke his invitation twice. Possibly three times, can’t remember anymore.
A sharp knock at the door jolts me from my daydreams. Ethan and I exchange curious looks, and he drops the curtain rod, conceding defeat as he follows me to the door.
Swinging it open, I see Sage on the porch, her arms wrapped around a massive, mysterious object draped in vibrant paisley fabric.
“Sage!” Ethan calls affectionately, quickly stepping forward to help. “What on earth?”
“Office-warming gift!” she proclaims, beaming triumphantly as Ethan takes most of the weight from her.
Ethan groans theatrically. “Didn’t we agree on a particular aesthetic for the office?”
“That giraffe-hat-rack thing traumatized Mr. Darcy,” I remind her, laughter bubbling in my chest.
She waves away the complaint. “I stand by my vision. And this time, you’ll absolutely adore it.”
Sage whips away the fabric, revealing a stunning abstract painting. Blues, greens, and subtle golden hues simultaneously dance across the canvas, vibrant and calm. My breath catches.
“Oh, Sage, it’s gorgeous,” I murmur sincerely.
Ethan nods, clearly impressed. “It really is. You’ve outdone yourself.”
“I thought you might need a reminder,” Sage says softly, eyes twinkling, “for being open to find the unexpected in the chaos.”
“Consider it etched into our souls,” Ethan jokes, nudging my shoulder gently.
Sage eyes us both with mock seriousness. “Speaking of chaos, where’s Biscuit?”
I glance around, suddenly suspicious. “Sleeping… hopefully?”
Right on cue, a burst of golden fluff charges through the door, tail wagging furiously, paws skidding on polished floors. Biscuit barks joyfully, tongue lolling as Ethan catches him mid-leap.
“Oh boy, nap officially over,” Ethan laughs, cradling the puppy as it squirms excitedly.
I groan dramatically, turning to Sage. “Biscuit, destroyer of shoes, slayer of naps.”
Sage scratches Biscuit affectionately behind the ears. “Adorable menace. And totally worth the mayhem.”
She helps us hang the painting over the sofa, stepping back proudly once it’s positioned perfectly. “There,” she declares, nodding with satisfaction. “My masterpiece has found its home.”
After Sage leaves, Biscuit bolts toward a basket of fabric swatches, pawing gleefully as he digs for treasure.
“Oh no!” I groan, rushing after him. Ethan laughs, rescuing a fabric roll from the puppy’s enthusiastic jaws.
“Reconsidering pet ownership?” Ethan teases.
“No,” I admit, scooping Biscuit into my arms and kissing his head. “But ask me again after he eats the couch cushions.”
Ethan guides me gently toward the sofa, Biscuit settling between us, utterly content. Comfortable silence fills the room, and sunlight warms our shoulders.
“You know,” Ethan says softly after a while, “it’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
