39. Violet
VIOLET
I stand beside Drew on the front porch, waving as Ivy and Sebastian head toward the driveway. His arm is around her waist, and she laughs at something he says.
He gazes down at her with complete adoration.
They’re so damn cute.
That will be Drew and me.
Soon.
I adjust Luna in my arms, then turn to Drew.
He’s staring at me with an odd expression on his face. His gaze drops to Luna, then lifts to mine.
And for a moment, he looks… smitten.
But then it’s gone.
He steps back and holds the door, gesturing for me to go inside.
“You’re probably tired after helping me move. Probably have better things to do—”
“Actually, I’m not,” I say calmly. “And I don’t mind staying a little longer and helping Luna get settled in.”
He blinks at me, like he wasn’t expecting that. “Oh…um… okay.”
I follow him back inside, noticing the stiff set of his shoulders.
I set Luna on the floor, and she resumes sniffing.
Drew watches her, his body tense.
I move closer, lightly touching his arm. “Relax. She’ll be fine. She’s just adjusting.”
His gaze moves to my fingers. He swallows hard before his eyes meet mine. “Yeah.” He forces a smile. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
Translation: he's not sure she'll be fine at all.
Don’t worry, Drew. She’ll be fine as long as I’m here.
And I have no intention of going anywhere.
An hour later, Luna has finally stopped exploring every corner and claimed the arm of the couch like she’s lived here her whole life. Her tail flicks lazily as she watches us, unimpressed.
Drew sits beside me, shoulders slightly slumped, the tension from earlier still lingering in his posture.
He looks… tired.
Not just physically.
Something deeper than that.
Without saying a word, I go to the kitchen and return a few minutes later with his favorite snack—a bowl of kettle corn and two sodas.
I settle beside him again, tucking one leg beneath me as I set the bowl between us.
He glances at it, then at me. A faint smile tugs at his mouth. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
He studies me for a second longer than necessary, like he’s trying to figure something out.
Then he exhales and reaches for a handful. “Thanks.”
I nod, picking up the remote. “You mind?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
He shakes his head. “Go ahead.”
I scroll for a moment before selecting Moneyball.
When I press play, he huffs out a quiet laugh. “Of course you picked that.”
“It fits you.”
“Yeah?” he asks, leaning back into the couch.
I glance at him. “Structured. Analytical. Quietly stubborn.”
His lips twitch. “That sounds like an insult.”
“It’s not.”
It’s an observation.
He doesn’t argue.
The movie plays.
And slowly… he relaxes.
His shoulders loosen. His breathing evens out.
We reach into the bowl at the same time. Our fingers graze and he jerks his gaze to mine.
He slowly moves his hand. “Go ahead.”
With a smile, I take a handful.
He goes back in, taking a larger handful.
His attention returns to the movie. Mine stays on him.
When the popcorn is gone, he takes a long drink of his soda before slouching against the couch, getting comfortable.
A few minutes later, his head tips slightly to the side. His eyes close.
I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest.
He’s asleep.
I don’t move.
I just watch him.
The way his lashes rest against his skin.
The faint crease between his brows that hasn’t fully smoothed out.
He still looks like he's holding himself together.
My fingers tighten slightly around the edge of the bowl.
I wish he’d realize he can let go.
I’m here to take care of things.
Careful not to wake him, I slide out from the couch and set the bowl on the coffee table.
I slip away for a few minutes, and when I return, Drew has shifted. He’s now lying on his side, one arm tucked beneath his head.
Luna has relocated, stretched along the armrest near his face like a tiny guard.
She blinks up at me, then lowers her head back onto her paws. She looks content and peaceful.
I take a slow step forward.
Then another.
There’s a blanket folded neatly over the back of the chair. It’s the one I bought for him.
I pick it up, unfolding it slowly before draping it carefully over him.
His brow smooths slightly beneath the warmth.
He looks younger like this. Like the weight he carries finally loosened its grip.
I lower myself carefully onto the edge of the couch beside him.
He doesn’t stir.
I reach my hand out, gently running it through his hair.
He sighs, leaning into my touch.
I lift the blanket and crawl in beside him.
I turn onto my side, facing him.
My leg bumps his knee, and I freeze, waiting for his eyes to fly open. For him to tell me to leave.
Instead, he lifts his top leg slightly.
I slide mine between his, feeling the warmth radiating from him as he presses his legs against mine like I’m his pillow.
His arm shifts, hand moving to my hip.
His hand slides to my back, pulling me closer.
It’s automatic. Instinctual.
My heart stutters once before steadying.
I relax in his warm embrace, feeling more content than I have in a long time as he holds me like I belong here.
My fingers curl lightly into the fabric of the back of his shirt. My head rests lightly against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing against me.
He sighs, tightening his grip as though he never wants to let go.
I smile against his neck.
Even in his sleep, he reaches for me.
I yawn and close my eyes.
This is what I’ve always wanted.
And now that I have this... I’m not letting go.