Chapter 113
“Dan is going to be sad if I leave my apartment,” I say, processing this offer. Am I going to move in with Gideon?
Part of me keeps drifting back to Halloween.
I’ve been sober for almost seventy days now.
When Declan said ninety days, did he mean caffeine too?
I shouldn’t even be asking that. I shouldn’t be thinking about him at all.
I wish I could stop thinking about how close I am to ninety days.
Honestly, I wouldn’t mind never drinking again—not for him, but for me.
“Let’s talk through this,” I say to G. “If we moved in together, I would want to pay a proportional amount of mortgage for my income, same with the bills. No handouts.”
“Baby. If you moved in, I would pay for everything.”
“Then it’s your house and not our house.”
“You can pay me one dollar a month then.”
“Gideon, I’m serious.” I shake my head. “If we do this, I want to pay my way. I don’t want to be kept. I don’t want golden handcuffs and the life Adam offered me.”
“You realize that part of my sunset package is a ten-million-dollar bonus, right?”
“I know. I know. But I won’t feel like this is my home if I’m not paying a reasonable share of it.”
“Fine. How about thirty percent of your post-tax income each month goes to this house?”
“A little steep,” I say, considering how much money that would be.
He laughs with me, shaking his head. “Exactly. Let me buy this.”
“Twenty percent, and it gets applied to the mortgage, so …” I pause. We should not make emotional decisions. Emotional decisions rarely work out for me. “I want to build equity in the home, so if we ever break up, it’s not like I don’t have anything.”
“All business,” he growls at me. “How about this?” G counters. “If … big if … if we break up, I’ll write you a check for all the money you put into the house plus five percent interest.”
“Five? Have you seen inflation lately?”
“Eight.”
That’s a reasonable offer. “We’ll need that in writing,” I say, having fucking learned a few things over the past few years.
“I’ll allow it.” He extends his arms, and I go in for a hug.
I want this. I want this life with him. One emotional bathroom cry and the fact that Declan has been triggering to every man who has said he loves me are not good enough reasons for me to derail my life.
Declan Kruk is never going to happen, I remind myself.
I’ve lived too emotionally. Now that I’ve been raw dogging my life, I see it. I’ve been too rash, too impulsive.
My life with Gideon is more than I ever could have imagined. He is supportive and so loving. I have zero fucking complaints about our relationship aside from how sore my vagina is most Monday mornings. I’ve never been this happy in my life.
“Make them an offer that will get us this house,” I whisper, looking up at him.
And then we share a deep, promising kiss.