Page 116 of Becoming Us
“It’s still important, Noah. Don’t invalidate yourself. Your relationship with her—and the way it’s shaped you—is a big part of your story. It’s part of your healing too. We’re past minimizing,” he said, firm but kind.
He was a fucking wizard, this one.
“I’ll think about it,” I answered finally.
“Good. So, how’s the band going?”
That made me smile. “It’s been great,” I said, then launched into a full-hour talk about why it was great and how much it was helping. I felt like I was finally in the right place at the right time. The band got me excited. It made me want to get through the day. And the new house? It had a soundproof studio already set up and waiting. I couldn’t wait to play every single day—as much as I wanted.
After the session ended, I knew I had to talk to Atty. I couldn’t keep fearing his reaction. This wasn’t the same as before.
I still had to finish packing the rest of my room, but after that, maybe I’d call him. Maybe we’d figure it out.
Or maybe I’d wait a few more days.
Either way, I was going to tell him.
I just had to figure out how to do it without breaking us again.
Stepping into the living room, I took it all in. Boxes stacked and ready. Everything packed. It was weird—I’d never been that attached to this place, but seeing it like this made me feel a little nostalgic. I ran my hand across the kitchen counter before hopping onto it.
I closed my eyes and thought of all the times I’d kissed Atty in this exact spot.
But I didn’t need to cling to those memories anymore.
I had the real thing again. We’d make new ones.
I reached up and ran my thumb over the medallion beneath my shirt.
How was I even supposed to begin explaining her?
The movers came early on Thursday, picked everything up, and by four in the afternoon, everything was at the new house. I had been there, surrounded by boxes, for less than ten minutes, and it already felt more like home than my old place ever did.
Inside, everything was warm and worn in, like it had a soul. A built-in bookshelf hugged one wall in the living room, waiting to be filled. The fireplace looked original—painted brick with a soot-stained mantel—and the open floor plan made it easy to drift from room to room without ever feeling alone.
Of course it helped that it wasn’t empty—not of things, but of people. Ezra had come along for the whole ordeal and was helping Jaz unpack the kitchen. Atty got there as soon as he was off work and was now upstairs in the gym with Brice, one of the band guys. Paxton, Jaden, and Colin were in the studio, and Ikept bouncing between all of them, handling whatever needed attention. Out on the patio, Holly was having a glass of wine with Sofia, who, apparently, was Colin’s friend with benefits.
I had a full house. And not a house full of freeloaders looking for free beer and maybe a hit—actual friends who cared about me. It was nice. Chaotic, but nice.
“I’m ordering takeout,” I called into the living room. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow across the space.
“What’s good around here?” Ezra asked, handing Jaz a clean glass.
I scrolled through my phone. “Everything.”
“Then everything,” he replied with a shrug.
“Everything it is.” I smiled.
Atty came out of the gym carrying a couple of empty plastic tubs. He dropped them by the front door and crossed the room to me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “We’re almost done. Want me to help with your room?”
I tugged him closer by the arm, and he slipped both of them easily around my shoulders. “In a minute. Help me decide what to order,” I said, handing him my phone.
“Well, that’s the end of it. I’m done for today,” Jaz announced, stretching until her back cracked ominously. She turned to Ezra with a warning glare. “I hope everything stays exactly where we agreed when I get back tomorrow.”
“I solemnly swear I won’t go rogue on the cutlery placement,” he said, hands raised. “Small appliances, though…”
She poked him in the ribs, and Ezra laughed as she switched to Spanish and started threatening him.
