39 Christian
“We need four bedrooms,” I say, thinking out loud as I drive. “So everyone has their own space. Francesca gets the primary, obviously.”
“With a bigger damn bed than the one she has now,” Ryan mutters from the back seat.
“Hey,” she says, twisting around to look at him. “No one said you had to sleep there.”
“I’m not sleeping anywhere you aren’t,” he replies easily.
She blushes and turns back around.
The decision came together faster than I expected.
We spend most of our time together- meals, evenings, half the night stretched out on the same couch or tangled up talking in someone’s room- but when it comes time to sleep, we still split off.
Ryan and Francesca to their side. Jamie and me to the other.
It doesn’t quite work.
We could all just move into one side of the duplex, but I also wanted us to find someplace new, something that wasn’t so tied up in everything we’ve been through.
So a few days ago, I’d suggested we find a new place- something that we could all live in together.
Francesca pointed out that we were already living under one roof, so it wasn’t exactly a radical change. But she also mentioned- very seriously- that she wouldn’t mind having her own bathroom.
That seemed to settle it.
So here we are. House hunting on a weekend afternoon. Like a perfectly normal, everyday polyamorous family.
“Okay, but where exactly is this four-bedroom place you think we can afford?” she asks. “I mean- Jamie works for you, I’m unemployed, and Ryan’s a teacher. We are not exactly rolling in money.”
I reach over and take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t worry. These are places my dad and I own. Same as the duplex- it won’t cost us anything.”
“See, I knew I didn’t need to feel bad about never paying rent,” Jamie says from the back, earning a giggle from Francesca.
“Oh my gosh- look at that one. It’s so cute,” she says, eyes lighting up as we pass a weathered brick house with a sagging porch.
I smile, but I don’t slow down.
Now that we’re doing this- really doing this- I’ve decided something. She is not going to live in a shitty neighborhood again. She’s had enough survival for one lifetime. She deserves ease. Safety. The best I can give her.
“This is close to my place,” Ryan says when we’ve driven a bit further. “Well- close-ish. The apartment building I live in is about five minutes away.”
I know that- it’s why I picked this neighborhood.
“I guess I should terminate that lease, huh?” he says and she grins.
“You could walk to your school from this neighborhood,” I tell him as I turn onto a quiet residential street.
“These are… this is pretty fancy,” Francesca says, scanning the clean streets and big trees we pass. Then she looks at me, confusion sharpening her voice. “Christian… do you actually own a house here?”
“Yeah,” I say, pulling into a wide driveway. “A few.”
I park and get out. The others take longer, moving slowly, examining the house.
Jamie finally steps up beside me, staring. “What the fuck, man. What is this place?”
“It’s a house,” I say, heading for the door and unlocking it. “Tenants moved out last week. We had it cleaned yesterday. I was going to list it tomorrow, but I thought we might like it.”
“This is a joke, right?” Jamie mutters as we walk inside.
It’s a nice house- bright, open, clean lines. Not flashy, but solid. Comfortable.
“There’s a primary bedroom downstairs,” I say, moving through the space, “and four more upstairs.”
When no one follows me, I stop and turn around. “What?”
Francesca and Jamie are still near the door. Ryan’s in the kitchen, opening cabinets.
“Christian,” Jamie says slowly, “if your family owns shit like this, why the hell are you living in that shitty duplex?”
Ryan drifts back toward us, where Francesca and Jamie are both just staring at me from the entryway.
“And why did you go to our shitty public school?” Jamie presses. “Why don’t you drive a nicer car? And- again- why the fuck do you live in our neighborhood?”
Heat creeps up my neck and I feel like I’ve been caught with something I didn’t realize I was hiding.
“Okay, well, I went to school with you guys because I grew up in the district. It’s just…
where I went. And I drive that car because it’s the one I bought.
I paid for it myself. You keep it running perfectly, so why would I replace it?
” I hesitate, then add, “And you know why I live in that shitty duplex. It’s where Francesca was. Then where Gram was.”
The words come out louder than intended. Defensive. I turn away, exhaling hard, not entirely sure how this turned into an interrogation.
Then I feel her hand settle between my shoulder blades.
“Hey,” she says softly. “I think we were just caught off guard.” She offers a small smile. “That you have, like… money.”
I turn around and step closer, cupping her face and making her look at me. “I didn’t lie to you. I never hid anything. I just didn’t think it mattered.”
Even as I say it, I know how that sounds. Because not having money matter is a luxury. One they didn’t have.
But that’s why I always bought the groceries. Paid the phone bill. Why I never raised Gram’s rent, then stopped collecting it altogether. I never pretended I couldn’t take care of them- of us. But I can see now… maybe I didn’t exactly show it, either.
“I can’t believe you’d choose to live there… for me.” Her eyes are getting glassy filling with tears.
“Francesca, it wasn’t a sacrifice. At all. And,” I look at Jamie and Ryan, “it’s not like I’m some secret millionaire or something.”
A tear spills down her cheek and I lean forward, kissing it away gently. I tuck her into me, holding her close.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, softer now, realizing something else is upsetting her.
“Paying Gary… that was never really a problem for you, was it?” Her voice is small, unsteady.
“No,” I say without hesitation.
She pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes full of sadness and regret.
“So… I really didn’t have to leave.”
My chest tightens.
“You didn’t have to leave,” I say carefully. “Not because of the money anyway.”
I hesitate, hating to admit the next part.
“But… if you’d stayed, he would still have had leverage. He still would have made your life hell,” I admit quietly. “I hate that you felt like you had to go. But you weren’t wrong for getting out.”
Jamie scoffs from somewhere behind me. “Do you remember that place she was living in?”
I glance back briefly, then return my focus to her.
“You weren’t safe there,” I say softly. “But you weren’t really safe here either.” I pause, gentler now. “You did what you needed to do.”
Another tear slips down her cheek.
I lean in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “It doesn’t matter now,” I murmur. “You’re here. And you’re not going to be unsafe again.”
She exhales slowly, then takes my hand in hers.
“This place is beautiful,” she says quietly, looking around.
“I’d be afraid to mess the carpets up,” Jamie adds, walking up next to us.
Ryan snorts. “It’s also very… upper-middle-class white people in their 40s. Not sure that’s our vibe.”
She snorts at that and I smile. “Okay. Fair. We have others. We can keep looking- ”
I start to head to the door when Francesca stops me by tugging on my hand.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “I love you.”