Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Case
Two months after that
Jared bends down at Jerry’s level, putting one hand on the other side of the dog's jowls. Then he faces me and frowns.
“See? Twins.”
“You’re really arguing with me that you look like a French bulldog? You want validation for the comparison?”
“Frenchies are adorable," he declares. "I would be honored."
"Your brother-in-law knows his shit!" Luna calls out from across the studio.
We're gathered here at my Newbury Street location. We're about to launch our rebranding campaign, managed almost single-handedly by Luna, of all people. She's has turned out to be an outstanding PR asset in all this.
Sarah picks great friends.
As I watch Jared kiss Jerry on the top of his scruffy, tie-dyed little head, I realize I do, too.
RestorativU is the new name, one that took two weeks, countless coffeehouse meetings, three brainstorming sessions, and one consensus seminar that left Luna and Adriana in silent treatment mode with each other for three days.
"It sounds like a university!" Luna had snapped.
"Twenty-two percent of Case's current members are college students! It's a play on words," her twin had shot back.
Our branding advisory committee – Rory, me, Sarah, Jared, Luna, and Adriana – had taken it to a vote. We were tied, until Luna argued Jerry got a vote.
In desperation, Sarah had called Jackie, who said the name was perfect.
To be fair, I am a bit biased: it was my idea.
Now we've got a film crew here, taking endless shots of a pretend yoga class, with Jerry on a yoga mat.
He's remarkably well trained. Either that, or the dog is so lazy he simply never wanders.
"Hey," Sarah says, coming in for a quick kiss. Last night we made love four times – five if you count what I did to her in the middle of round three – and I'm sore. Happy sore, but sore.
Some of the poses Rory's putting us through are a bit much for my overtaxed glutes.
"You're shaking, Case. Video will look stupid if the 'yoga teacher'” – yes, she uses finger quotes – "sucks at his job."
"You do it, then. I told you all along I didn't want to be on camera."
"You're the owner!"
Adriana chimes in. "Demographically, women might respond better to a female teacher in the clips."
"We're not making a commercial," Luna points out. "These are social media clips."
"They're commercials in their own way," her sister replies, voice going tight. These two argue nonstop, and the more time I spend with them, the more I notice their cues.
" HSPFFFT! "
The sound of a very defensive cat makes everyone's head turn.
"Dumpling!" Sarah chides as her tabby appears from behind a large shelving unit filled with yoga blocks. The cat is staring at Jerry, back up, fur on end.
"I thought they knew each other," I say to her as she pauses, pulling away from me, surveying the situation. Jerry's lips part slightly and a little drool comes out of the corner of his mouth, which Luna wipes on autopilot.
"They do! Luna's brought Jerry over plenty of times."
"Maybe it's the new space? Too much unfamiliar territory?" Jared offers up.
Sarah crosses the studio, walking past someone who is blocking light for the camera, and picks up Dumpling. We're old buddies now, after three months of my sleeping over at her place. For the last months, I've been busy getting my condo on the real estate market.
Dumpling really had no choice but to adapt.
And by "adapt," I mean she loves curling up under the covers, right between us now.
"Maybe having a dog and a cat in the clips was a bad idea?" Jared muses as Sarah comes over. He's dressed in gray sweatpants and a Tennessee Vols t-shirt Luna says screams "dad bod crowd," and his reddish beard is neatly trimmed and... oiled?
I sniff. "What's that scent?"
He thumbs toward Luna. "It's whatever she told the barber to put in there this morning."
"Barber?" I take a good look at him and realize Jared is definitely more... done. Less blurry.
Less furry.
"Did you get a haircut?"
"Manscaped," Luna says proudly. "My girlfriend got her hands on him this morning and had some fun. She loves bears."
Jared gives me a grin with eyes a bit wide. Either he's begging me to help him escape or he somehow likes this.
"I'm a bear, Case. Stacey never called me that."
"Stacey met you long before the beard. In her mind, you were just... you."
He combs his fingers through his beard. "Think she'd like all this?"
I almost reply automatically, but something in his tone makes me stop. Sarah's watching our conversation and a pang hits me.
What if I lose her like Jared lost Stacey?
A rush of emotion fills my chest, making it hard to breathe, as Luna talks to the director and Sarah pets the cat while Jerry sploots on the yoga mat. Adriana sips from a coffee cup and I shatter inside, simultaneously happy and connected with my best friends and pivoting a business disaster into an eventual comeback while I imagine the worst – losing Sarah – standing before my best friend, who is actually living that worst case scenario.
How does he get up and face the day?
"I – I think she would," I choke out.
Bzzz
It's Jared's phone. "Babysitter," he mutters, answering. "Hey, Lissa. Yeah? No. No paid apps. I don't care if Corey hates the ads. I'm not spending ten bucks on a marble game. He knows that. I know. Thanks for checking. He's crying? Sorry. Probably crocodile tears. Now he's asking for ice cream so he'll feel better? See? Right. Crocodile tears. You got this. Thank you." He shakes his head as he ends the call. "That kid."
"Our parents never had to deal with us begging for money to remove ads from an app," I say softly. "It was the other way around. We begged for the things we saw in commercials."
"Yeah. Parenting these Gen Alpha kids is like living on another planet."
"Sorry you have to do it alone."
His head reels back a bit, eyes blinking hard. "They're great. And Lissa's a godsend. Child life specialist major at Lesley. Loves kids. Lost her own mom to breast cancer when she was eleven. We couldn't ask for a better fit."
"I hope she works out."
"Me, too, because otherwise it's just you and Sarah for childcare help when daycare’s closed."
"Mum and Dad help when they can."
"Oh, sure. And when they're in town, they're always welcome. But it's not the same. I can't just call them and ask for three hours of babysitting, you know? And my parents moved back to Tennessee, so..."
Sarah wanders over, half hearing the rest of the conversation. That hollow feeling from my dark imagination running into the abyss has me spooked. I touch her shoulder and it calms me. There's no fear of breaking up, no nerves, no doubts, no insecurities with her. While our relationship started off fast – some might even call it love at first sight – it's turned out to be true.
Real.
Right.
Righter than right, even. Fate's a strong word but when it works, it works.
And for Sarah and me, fate means forever.
Jared thought he had forever, though. I know how easily everything can change, and it's no ones fault. Enjoy what you can while you can.
I sure as hell am.
"You okay?" she whispers in my ear, free arm going around my waist, pulling me in for a side hug. Dumpling is curled up in the crook of her elbow and when I inhale, I smell Sarah's shampoo.
"I love you."
She squeezes my waist. "Love you, too."
"No. I mean I really, really love you."
"I really love you, too, of course. You know that. Something is wrong. What is it? Why are you suddenly so emotional?"
"You make me this way. It's all your fault," I tell her, but I'm smiling, looking down at her. When I look into her eyes I feel seen. Every step of the way since that day at Hair Haven, she's been by my side, all-in, completely supporting every decision I've made.
When I reported Prakash to the IRS and provided evidence, she supported me.
When I hired as many people as possible from HQ, she supported me.
When my lawyers untangled Prakash's lies and got law enforcement off my back, she was there the entire time.
And now that I've decided to rebrand, sell my condo, and play it safer financially, she's with me.
What she doesn't know is that I love spending nights with her and Dumpling in her little apartment. It reminds me of our first night together. Our first – and only – one-night stand.
A simpler life with her in it is a thousand times more fulfilling than a financially successful one where I achieve all my dreams but have no one to share it with.
As she's pointed out, selling my condo and running my seven studios – and maybe, maybe buying some of Prakash's failing ones for a bargain, if we can negotiate them down enough – means having a healthy financial life.
Just a smaller one.
I can't clear out Stacey's medical bills – but Sarah connected Jared to a health reporter who helped get eighty percent of them written off.
I can't fully fund my niece and nephew's college funds – but they're young, and I can contribute every year to help.
I don't have to make some grand gesture to make up for misplaced guilt. Being me is enough.
Sarah reminds me of that every day.
"Come here," I tell her, reaching for her hand, taking her back into my office. She sets Dumpling down on the floor, the cat instantly turning into an ankle warmer.
Our kiss is easy, soft, sweet with a little heat. I'll never become bored with how she tastes, and I hope that when I die, she's the last flavor on my tongue.
But I'm not quite there yet.
Not even close.
"Let's move in together," I murmur against her ear.
"What?"
"I know it's a big step. I haven't brought it up because – "
"Because I live in a dump!"
"You do not."
"Compared to your place!"
"But Sarah – I'm letting go of that place. Letting go of that life. It's not what I want anymore. Not who I am. I know you're struggling with rent – "
"That's not a good reason to move in together."
"It's not. And if that were the only reason, I would never ask. There are plenty of good reasons, starting with I love you. I want to live with you. I want to be closer. I want this life to continue on the path we're on together."
"Really?"
"Don't you? Do you feel the same?"
"I didn't think you'd want to live in my place! It's so..." She grimaces.
"It's so you . I feel at home there, with you. And once the condo sells, and RestorativU takes off, we can talk about moving."
"Moving?"
"Finding a place of our own."
She smiles, nodding slowly. "I like that."
"Take some time. Think about it. I sprung it on you, and we're in the middle of this film shoot – "
"Yes."
"That's it? Just yes?"
"Yes. On one condition."
"Name it."
"You have to make those little Zen rock pillow piles on the bed every day."
" That's your condition?"
"And wine and donuts for dessert every Saturday night."
"DEAL."
"And who knows," she says, looking up at me, fingers at the nape of my neck, one hand going to my shoulder. "In ten years or so, when the IRS whistleblower case settles, you could have that huge payout you were looking for."
"That would be nice, but I'm not going to base my future on a hope. I'm going to live in the present with the gift I've been handed," I tell her as we kiss again. She said yes. We're moving in together. Life is advancing. Not in terms of achievement, but connection. Intimacy. Community.
Love.
"I tell you all the time how much I love you, Sarah, but I don't know if the words are enough."
"You show me pretty damn well with your body, too."
"Good. And living together means our bodies are even closer."
"You sure you want to get yourself all revved up like this in yoga pants, Case? I'm not sure you want that," she says, stroking my now-hard shaft, "on a TikTok reel."
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't make it any worse!"
"How about I take care of it for you?" she teases. "Poor Tab A."
Tab A? What the hell is Tab A? I thought it was King Hmph .
Did I mention how much I love this woman?
Because she drops to her knees and takes care of me.
That’s how this whole living together thing works, right? We take care of each other.
One slot, one tab, one hmph at a time.