Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
ALLEY
I grab my toiletry bag and stuff it into my suitcase.
I got home from my first hypnotherapy session about thirty minutes ago.
My eyes are still red from crying. The moment I closed them, it felt like someone cracked open a vault I’d been keeping sealed for months, and everything came pouring out.
I cried through nearly the whole thing. It was raw and vulnerable, but when I walked out, I felt lighter.
Like I’d finally dropped a weighted vest I didn’t even realize I’d been carrying.
I can’t wait to tell Jensen about it. I’ve already got another appointment set two weeks from now.
He’s flying in tonight. He’ll work in the Chicago office Thursday and Friday so we can go to dinner at Michael’s tomorrow.
I’m getting ready for another long weekend at Matt’s.
And honestly? It’s getting old. All the back-and-forth, and living out of a suitcase.
It’s not just New York I pack for—I have to pack for here too.
Leo keeps assuring me Jensen can stay here, and maybe I would take him up on it if we didn’t have an entire condo available to us.
But it’s a no-brainer. We have Matt’s all to ourselves. But still, I’m over it.
I zip my luggage shut just as my phone dings.
Jensen
How was the appointment, babe?
It was good. Different... but so good. Can’t wait to tell you all about it. You at the airport?
Jensen
Yeah. Can’t wait to see you. I was looking at houses today when I was bored. Found this.
He sends me a link for a house.
We haven’t talked about our living situation in weeks. Jensen mentioned it in the beginning, but everything was still so new, I couldn’t commit. And now… I don’t even know where I want to live.
I love New York—family dinners with Jensen’s family, Matt’s jokes, Scarlett’s late-night talks. And don’t even get me started on how much I miss Zach. I know my old boss would help me find a job. Maybe not in PACU, but somewhere.
But I love Chicago, too, the friends I’ve made here, being near Michael and Stella. And then there’s my dad. God, I can’t give up this time with him, not when his health is so fragile. I already gave up too many years, and that guilt doesn’t fade. I don’t know if it ever will.
I click the link and gasp. The listing is for a home in Wilmette, just ten minutes from Michael and Stella. Red brick, wide windows, a black door, a yard that seems to go forever. It’s beautiful.
What? Jensen’s never said a word about moving here. Not once.
My fingers hover at my lips as I swipe through the photos—four bedrooms, hardwood floors, a backyard big enough for kids and a dog.
A family. My chest squeezes, then warms until I’m blinking through tears.
The thought of him choosing this, moving here for me, hits so hard it steals my breath. He just keeps getting better.
And I feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
Even with all the shit he put me through.
Even with the hard we’re in now. Even with all the trust still to rebuild.
I’ll take every second with him, because I’m realizing that being loved by Jensen, even for a day, is being loved harder than some people get in a lifetime.
He does it differently. He sees me. He puts me first. And somehow, I know he always will.
And that fear? That poison that lingers in the back of my mind whispering what if? I don’t have to listen. I don’t have to look back. I can be cautious, but I don’t have to let it destroy me, my future, or my love for Jensen.
He’s here now. And he loves me more than life itself.
I type back.
Is this for real?
I drop my phone in my purse and sling it over my shoulder. Shoving my feet into my tennis shoes, I scan the room, running through a mental checklist so I don’t forget anything.
Oh, shit. My razor.
Before I can head to the bathroom, there’s a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” I call.
The door creaks open, and I glance over my shoulder as Jensen steps into the room, grinning. “It’s for real,” he says.
“Oh my God!” I run to him, practically knocking him over.
My arms wrap around his neck, and my lips find his before I can even process that he’s standing in front of me.
“What are you doing here already? You’re not supposed to get in for three more hours.
” My voice is soft, a breath against his skin, my smile stretched wide.
“I lied,” he whispers, his grip tightening on my waist, pulling me closer.
“That’s no way to earn my trust,” I tease.
“Yeah? You mad?”
I shake my head, catching my bottom lip between my teeth. “No.” God, he’s the best. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
He glances at his watch. “You ready? Because we’ve got an appointment to get to.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What appointment?”
“We’re meeting a realtor at this house in thirty minutes. Just to see if we like it.” He hesitates, watching my reaction. “Unless… you don’t want to.”
My smile stretches so wide my cheeks ache, and tears blur my vision—happy tears. Pure, blissful, happy tears. It’s been so long since I’ve had those. “Are you serious? You’d really move here?”
The corner of his mouth pulls up. “Maybe. We’ll talk about it.” He grabs the handle of my suitcase. “But let’s do it in the car so we’re not late.”
“Alright.” A laugh breaks through my tears. “I’m ready.”
As we head out, I glance at him. “Cutting it close, don’t you think? What if your flight had been delayed?”
He gives me an effortless grin. “I landed at five, babe. I’ve been killing time at Starbucks so I could surprise you.”
“Why didn’t you just come over then?”
“I knew you had your appointment, and you’d be packing. Didn’t want to distract you.” He smirks. “You know damn well you’d be naked right now and not even close to ready if I’d shown up first.”
I brush past him, laughing. “True.”
This house is incredible. It’s everything I could ever want and more. It’s been completely gutted, but the original hardwood floors are still intact, giving it just enough old charm while still leaning into my contemporary style. It’s gorgeous.
I fall in love with the kitchen instantly—blonde shaker cabinets, matte-black hardware, ceilings impossibly high for a house this old. The island is incredible. Black quartz waterfalls down both sides, bold and clean. It’s exactly what I’d pick if I designed it myself.
The real estate agent lets us wander, which I appreciate. Jensen and I head upstairs to the master bedroom. It’s not huge, but the closet is—and it was designed by a genius. Built-in shelves and drawers, the kind you only see on HGTV.
“Oh my God, I might just move into this closet.”
Jensen chuckles. “Sold on the closet, huh?”
I glance his way. “And the kitchen. And the original hardwood floors. And the masonry fireplace.” I open a drawer and nearly squeal. “There are compartments for all my jewelry!” It’s a freaking dream.
“Shit. Hidden compartments? That’s like porn for you.”
I turn toward him, grinning. “I know!”
We move to the next room, and it stops me cold. It’s staged as a baby’s room. There’s a crib and tiny dresser, zoo animals painted on the walls. My heart clenches, equal parts joy and ache. I grip the doorframe, trying to hold both emotions at once. God, it’s adorable. And it hurts.
Jensen steps up behind me, his hands sliding around my waist. “What do you think? You like the house?”
I turn, pressing my palms flat against his chest. “I love it. I love it so much.”
He leans down, kissing me softly, and when he pulls back, his eyes meet mine, tender and full of love. “Should we buy it?” His voice is low but eager.
“You’d really move here? And work’s not an issue?”
“I told you—already talked to my boss. I can transfer to the Chicago office.”
“And what about your family?”
He shrugs. “You’re my family, babe. They all have their own families, their own lives. They’ll be fine without me.”
I laugh softly. “I’m not so worried about what they’ll do without you as much as what you’ll do without them.” I arch a brow, lowering my voice. “What about Matt?”
“What about him?” His eyes narrow. “He won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.”
“It’s a good thing he’s rich as fuck and has his own plane, then, isn’t it? He can visit anytime.” A grin tugs at his mouth. “Besides, is he gonna have my babies?”
The words hit me in the gut. In a good way, but they hurt, too. “What if I can’t get pregnant?” The fear slips out, ugly and scary.
“Don’t go there. We haven’t tried in a long time.”
“But when we were trying, it wasn’t happening.”
“We didn’t try that long,” he says, thumb brushing my temple. “And I was using most of that time. You didn’t know it then, but my body was fucked. Who knows what it did to my sperm.”
I nod. It can do that, but not usually that soon. “But we haven’t exactly been careful. Even now.”
We really haven’t. The first time we had sex again, we didn’t use a condom. Sheer stupidity on my part. My brain wasn’t anywhere near ready to handle a pregnancy with him then. It had just been so long, and we’d never been all that careful before—I got caught in the moment. Spaced it completely.
And nothing happened.
That’s what gnaws at me. Nothing happened. Not then, not before. I don’t even know if I’m fertile. It’s an ache I’ve carried for years, a quiet worry that never leaves.
“We’ve been careful enough,” he says gently. “Only skipped once, and you even said later you weren’t ovulating.”
I force a smile and shove the heavy thoughts into a box for later. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
His hand slides over my hip, heat flashing in his eyes, and I let myself lean into the shift. He lets out a soft chuckle, then whispers low in my ear. “All this talk about babies getting your panties wet?”
His lips graze mine, and I grin against them, my arms sliding around him. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.” His brows shoot up with excitement.
“Later,” I add, laughing.
“Fuck. Is it later yet?” He kisses me, and it feels like he’s handing me the world—this house, a future, a family. I want more than anything to believe it’s all possible.
I kiss him back, promising him the same things. That I’m here. That we can have it all, and so much more. We just have to keep showing up for each other. Trust each other. Love each other.
That’s the easy part. Loving him has never been hard. The hard part was pretending I didn’t.
And I’m guilty as sin for failing at that.