Chapter 53
Chapter fifty-three
Liv
After about an hour of repacking the things I’d unpacked, there’s a knock at my door.
“I might’ve called for reinforcements,” Jay says, walking over to reveal Hudson and Daphne with drinks and a bag of something that I’m hoping is food.
Hudson holds up the bag that smells like heaven. “We brought snacks. And by snacks, I mean fries. And by fries, I mean six portions because I panicked.”
“He’s really good at over-buying things.
Remember when he got two types of milk before we were not-dating?
” Daphne hands me peach iced tea as he mumbles something about never not dating, but I nod.
I do remember being on the phone when it happened, and I still think he’s the biggest puppy dog of a guy I’ve ever met.
“Drink then eat. I know you’ve hardly done either in twenty-four hours.
” My best friend pins me with a no-nonsense look, then she begins being the mother hen she is and starts sorting boxes around me.
Smelling the salt on these fries has my mouth salivating like never before. “Yes, gimme, I’m starving.” Hudson hands over the bag, and I practically melt on the spot when the first taste of hot potato hits my tongue. “Oh my god,” I moan loudly around another bite.
Hudson guffaws beside me. “Jesus. Warn a guy before you make noises like that. I’m an innocent, fragile man.”
Jay elbows him. “You’ve never been innocent or fragile a day in your life.”
“Hudson, are you being helpful?” Daphne asks with a hand on her hip.
I snort into the fries. “You like my noises, right, Jay?” I turn to him, holding a fry to his lips, and let a playful smirk lift my mouth.
“Olivia,” he warns, but it’s a light warning because the smile on his face and the interest in his eyes tell me so. “Do you really want our friends to find out what I intimately like about you?”
I shrug, playing it off.
Hudson raises his hand out of the corner of my eye. “I, for one, would not like to know.”
Daphne flicks a balled-up piece of packing paper at his chest. “Then stop listening and pick something up.”
He sighs dramatically but obeys, scooping up my stack of sketchbooks like they weigh nothing. “I’d like everyone to acknowledge that I am being heroic.”
Jay laughs under his breath, shifting the box in his arms. “You picked up a couple of sketchbooks, Hudson.”
“Three,” he corrects, scandalized. “Don’t diminish my contribution.”
Daphne ignores him completely and tugs my laundry bag off the desk, slinging it over her shoulder.
I pop the last fry between my lips, wipe my hands on a napkin, and take one final look around the room.
The too-small bed, the too-white walls. It already belongs to someone else; this space was never meant for me.
“Hey, where’s Rosie?” Jay asks Hudson as they pack.
“Foxx is with her at our place, she’s napping.”
“I need snuggles with my chaos monster soon,” I say.
“Any time, you know that,” Daph says. “We can do a girls’ brunch next week, Rosie loves brunch.”
“She loves all food at all times,” Hudson snorts.
“Definitely your daughter, then,” Jay remarks.
They bicker and banter together, and as the space empties, I feel relief.
Jay nudges my shoulder gently with his own. “Ready?”
The answer is there before I even breathe. Yet, I hold it in. To remember this feeling, because so many are fleeting, but this feels permanent. So many moments in my life have slipped by me before I even realized they were happening, but this one… this one feels like something I get to keep.
Moving here might’ve been one of the scariest decisions I’ve ever made.
I left the familiar, the expected, the version of myself that was stuck because it hurt less than hoping and healing.
And somehow, in the wreckage of everything, I found someone who didn’t ask me to be anything but human.
It never mattered how many times I called Daphne to talk, she’d always answer the phone.
It didn’t matter what plans Jay had, he’d always make extra dinner for me.
It didn’t matter that I started dating their best friend because their arms were open and accepting of me, no matter what.
Being scared is okay. Knowing those who love you will hold you while you’re scared, that’s what I have now.
I think I had to leave the apartment, if only for a day, to realize I’m not anchored to fear anymore.
I’m anchored to them. To this life I’m building, even if the ground still shakes sometimes.
“Yeah,” I say, grabbing my drink and stepping toward the door, where my chaos crew is already waiting. “Let’s go home.”