After #4
“Yeah,” I said, a smile hitting my face as my fingers touched the smooth green painted wood of the park bench. “I mean. No, I’m not in a ditch. Everything is great. I just… you told me to call you. To check in.”
“Took you long enough,” Austin said. The background noise suddenly dropped in volume, a heavy metal door slamming shut as he stepped out of the construction and into the back office.
His tone instantly shifted into that protective warmth that belonged entirely to him.
“I’m glad you called, love. Your old man called me this morning, too.
Around eight. Sounded completely different.
Slower. He told me he was officially signing over the titles and stepping away from the heavy lifting. ”
“He told me too,” I said, a small, sweet knot of pride tightening in my throat. “He’s staying home.”
“Good for him,” Austin murmured, and even through the speaker of my phone, I could hear the relief in his chest. “Lord knows he’s earned the break.
He has spent too many years running himself into a wall.
” He paused, and I could hear the familiar, sharp click of his lighter, followed by a long, slow exhale of smoke.
“Listen, I’m heading back next week. Things are going good here, I should get to stay for a while. ”
“Promise? You always say that and then go back to Florida, always something else that needs your attention now,” I told him. Halfway joking.
“You know I wish I could take you with me, Seren,” he said. “Zane wouldn’t like that very much, would he?”
“No,” I laughed. “He probably wouldn’t.”
“I’ll try my best. I need a break, and I miss you too,” he told me. “Life is great and all, but sometimes I miss having a fucking night to myself. Even if that night means you torturing me with episodes of medical drama.”
“Yeah,” I agreed with him, remembering the nights where neither of us had anything to do except exist in the silence beside each other. “Maybe one day, things will slow down again.”
“Doubt it,” Austin chuckled. “Alright, love. I have to go. I’ll see you soon.
Tell Briggs to keep his side of the perimeter locked down.
” The line went dead with a blunt click.
A perfect confirmation of the peace I had seen in West Bridge.
I took a second of silence to myself before standing up to walk back to the blue apartment.
Zane was already there when I let myself in. The kitchen smelled like garlic and olive oil, and he had a wrench sitting on the counter next to a completely silent radiator. He had changed into a clean black t-shirt; his hair still damp from the shower.
“Where’d you go?” he asked, turning from the stove to look at me. “Sorry I took so long, the market didn’t have the ice cream you like, so I had to go all the way over to Bay Street. And would you believe this… they didn’t have it either.”
“Don’t tell me you went all the way to Fisher for my ice cream, Zane,” I said with a happy sigh.
“Of course I did,” Zane looked at me like I offended him. “You’re not dating a loser, Seren, come on.”
The look on his face made me laugh. He was right, though. I sure as hell wasn’t. “And all of this while your phone was dead, huh?”
“I’m taking that to mean you tried to call me,” Zane frowned. “I’m sorry, baby. You didn’t answer my question, where did you go?”
“Just the park,” I said, dropping my keys on the counter. I walked over to him, leaning my back against the refrigerator. “I ran into Finn. The guy from bio-stats.”
Zane’s hands stopped on the wooden spoon. I watched his jaw do the thing, that tiny, instinctive tightening of the bone, the guard checking the fence lines. He looked at me, his eyes searching my face for the shadow of a sniper.
“He was walking a Pomeranian named Sir Reginald,” I added casually. “He sat next to me at the library the other day. Said he will save me a seat beside the good outlets in the future.”
Zane stared at me for one beat. Two. Then, I watched the defensive lines dissolve.
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t deliver a speech or offer a warning.
He just let his breath out through his nose, his shoulders dropping in a conscious, deliberate release that mirrored my own grounding exercise perfectly.
“Good,” he said softly. “The good outlets should always be saved for you. Help me with these.” Zane gestured to the stack of papers sitting on the small kitchen table.
It was the lease renewal for the start of the semester.
The landlord had finally sent the finalized copies, the legal print clean and black against the wood.
I sat down, pulling the pen from where Zane left it for me.
It was my second signature scene in a week.
I wrote Seren Garcia with a steady hand.
Zane took the pen from my fingers and signed his name right beneath mine.
My bets were paying off. Everything was falling into shape. I had one more year in the blue apartment with Zane. I was going to call my dad tomorrow night. Austin would be home next week. Someone was going to save me a seat by the good outlets. I went to sleep that night inside the word after.