Page 164 of One Night Only
“Declan will help,” I say at Soraya’s murderous look and I give her a wide berth as I skip into the hallway. Declan’s in the kitchen, unloading an armful of grocery bags onto our inch of counter space.
“Unpacking’s going well,” he says, nodding to the floor of boxes behind me.
“Could you take a look at the dresser in the bedroom? I think it would look better in here, but Soraya might push me out the window.”
“Need a big strong man, huh?”
“We’ll work with what we have.”
“Oh, she made ajoke. Jokesters get to put away the shopping.” He tosses a head of lettuce at me and disappears into the bedroom. Soraya immediately starts arguing with him.
I start putting the cold stuff away but get distracted by the roar of a motorbike passing outside and abandon post to go look out the bay window. The living room gets the most sun and I have dreams of lazy Sunday mornings curled up against the glass, watching the world go by.
I fell in love with the apartment the first time I saw it, which is helpful considering how fast real estate moves in this city. It’s a small one-bedroom in Brooklyn, a short walk from Fort Greene Park, and sure it’s smaller than my place with Claire and the bathroom needs some serious de-grouting, but you can barely hear the neighbors and there’s a stunning brick wall in the bedroom, and it’s mine. It’s ours. And that makes it perfect.
There’s a loud banging noise and I turn as Declan comes out of the bedroom, dusting his hands. “I think the dresser’s fine where it is.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Wow, what a great job you did,” he calls from the kitchen.
“I’ll do it in a sec.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Fighting already?” Soraya drops into the one chair we have. My beloved flea market purchase. The other thing I brought from my apartment. “That’s a good sign.”
I grab the utility knife and turn to the nearest box, ripping open the tape. Declan and I are moving in together. Have moved in together? Literally just now moved in together?
We’d been taking things slow, which I appreciated. A lot of date nights, a few weekends away. It’s not like we ran out of things to do in the city. Before I knew it, we were seeing each other every day and when he asked me to move in with him, I didn’t hesitate to say yes.
“This was in the mail,” he says, handing me an envelope. “Irish stamp.”
“It’s from Annie!” I say, recognizing her handwriting. “Our first official card in our new home.”
“You can put it on the dresser,” Soraya says sarcastically, rolling her shoulders with a wince. “Am I done now?”
“Yes. Unless you want to help me with—”
“I’m done.”
Declan pulls me close as I slice open the envelope. “You’re getting way too attached to that knife.”
I ignore him, scanning the card. “Maybe we can visit them this year. You can call it a business trip.”
“Sure.” He pulls away after a quick kiss, but I grab the front of his T-shirt, holding him to me.
“Okay,” Soraya says, holding up her hands. “No. I’m not staying around for this. Goodbye.”
“Thank you for helping me,” I call after her.
“Thank you for the forty percent vacation discount.”
“Twenty percent.” Declan frowns.
“The dresser upped my price.”
She closes the door and I realize for the first time that we are alone in the new apartment. I look up at Declan, ready to share the enormity of the occasion but he’s looking out the window, distracted as he runs his hands up and down my arm. He’s working for the tour company full-time now and while business is going well, he’s still working most nights trying to do the best he can. It’s not lost on me that he’s doing it all while making time for us, never late to dinner and always quick to answer my texts. Like he’s making an extra effort to be there for me. I brought it up with him over takeout one evening, worried he was overextending himself just to prove something, but he only laughed.
