He scratched the back of his neck. “I could try to apply for one myself, but my credit score is nonexistent. I’d need someone to cosign, and my mom can’t do that either.”
“How about your dad?”
His lips twisted in a pained expression. “He’s not good for it. Probably even more fucked up in debt at this point.”
I stared down at my lap. “I know you don’t like me offering, but…”
“I can’t ask you to cosign a loan with me.”
I met his gaze, the familiar wall of stubborn pride already going up. “I don’t want to cosign a loan with you.”
His eyebrows arched.
“The terms you’d get on your own are probably shit,” I said, tone gentle but firm. “High interest, variable rates, penalties tucked in the fine print. If your credit history is thin, the bank’s going to slap on whatever they want, and you’ll end up paying back double or more over time.”
He shifted in place, crossing his arms again. “So then what?”
“I could loan you the money,” I said, straightforward.
Atty let out a rough breath through his nose, jaw tight as he shook his head and stepped away.
I reached out and caught his wrists, guiding him closer until he stood between my legs. I cupped his face, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, but his eyes stayed low.
“Before you say no, just hear me out, okay?”
He bit the inside of his cheek, silent.
“I’m not just throwing money at you. If you need it to be a loan, it’s a loan. No strings, no interest, no payment schedule. You start paying me back when you’re in a place to do so. No pressure.”
He shook his head again, voice low. “I can’t ask?—”
“You’re not asking,” I interrupted softly. “I’m offering. I’m doing it because I can, and because I want to. My dad always said that money should be used to build something—stability, security, a life. Not hoarded until it rots. And this feels like something worth building.” I hesitated, then added, “Besides…”
“What?” he asked, voice softer now.
“I’m selling the apartment.”
That got his attention. His blue eyes snapped to mine. “What?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I even have a Realtor already looking at listings. Every place I’ve seen so far is under this one’s value. I was planning to invest the rest, put it in something long-term—index funds, maybe even something fixed if the return made sense. But honestly? Helping you get your mom a stable place feels like a better investment.”
He was visibly thrown. “That’s…a lot to unpack.”
I smiled, brushing a thumb under his eye. “What do you want to go over first?”
“You’re selling your place?”
“Yeah, Atty. Look, I’ve been thinking about it since the first time you set foot in there after we got back together. You hate it.”
“That can’t be a reason?—”
“It can absolutely be a reason—a really big one too. It’s not like I have the most pleasant memories of it either. The only good ones are the ones I have of you, and we can make new ones in a place that doesn’t make your eyes glaze over every time youlook at my bathroom door,” I told him. “Plus, I never chose that place. It never felt like mine.”
“What about Ezra?”
My lips twitched. “I could take him to a park and leave him there, but I’m sure he’d find his way back home.”
“Noah,” he whined.