Chapter 32
LILA
I wake up the next morning with my husband wrapped around me on the tiny mattress, holding me close to his chest. My heart feels full after a night spent consummating our marriage and forming an intimacy between us deeper than anything I ever thought possible.
I press a kiss to his chest, over his heart.
He cracks his eyes open. “Good morning, Wife.”
“Good morning, Husband.” I brush his hair off his forehead and giggle. “You’ve got clay in your hair.”
His green gaze moves over my face and hair, and then down my body. I don’t feel any hint of my former shyness. I feel nothing but beautiful. “You have clay everywhere.”
I look down at myself and grin. “I definitely need a shower…want to join me?”
Fisher doesn’t reply—he’s already scooping me up in his arms and striding towards the bathroom, a man on a mission.
When we leave the firehouse together an hour later, we’re holding hands and laughing at something dumb, and I close my eyes and capture the moment, committing it to memory so I can never lose it.
Fisher has a break while the Lions wait to find out who they’ll play in the second round of the playoffs—either Vancouver or Sacramento, who are neck in neck in their round one series—so his schedule consists mostly of practices, rest, and recovery for a few days.
We spend every minute we can together, even moving my easel, paints, and canvases to the loft, where I set up a temporary art station on a tarp in the corner of our bedroom.
He naps, I paint. He wakes up and goes to practice; I paint some more.
He comes home, and we get naked, and repeat.
Over and over, endless inspiration pouring out of me as my gallery series comes to life.
All my searing emotions for my husband become brushstrokes on my canvas…
but this time, I’m not channeling my emotions externally in my art, I’m letting myself feel every last one of them.
It’s glorious; like existing in a bubble of bliss that no longer feels like a fragile, breakable thing, but the safe haven I’ve been longing for without even realizing it.
For the first time in a long time, I feel complete.
Fully in touch and connected—not just to another person, but to myself again.
And it shows. Because four days later, after Vancouver beat out Sacramento, and Fisher’s at practice preparing to face the Canadian team in the next round…I finish the last of what may be the best series of paintings I’ve ever created.
I call the gallery curator, who sounds delighted that I’m finally ready, then I practically dance out to the kitchen in search of food, because I lost track of time in my work again and I haven’t eaten today.
“Someone’s in a great mood.” Ally waggles her eyebrows at me from where she’s lying on the couch, eating yogurt straight from the tub. Harry Styles is lazing on her lap, and she’s wearing a hoodie with the logo of the dance studio she teaches at, looking like she just came home from work.
“I finished my series for the gallery downtown,” I tell her.
“And here I was thinking it was because of all the time you and Fisher have been spending in your bedroom.”
Instead of answering, I reach for a bag of chips from the pantry, but I’m sure my face has already said too much.
Ally smirks. “And don’t try to deny it, we’ve barely seen either of you leave that room for days.” She waves her spoon at me. “Plus, you’re glowing.”
I flop down beside her on the couch and open my chips. “What if I told you it’s because I’m happy I finally finished my gallery commission?”
“I’d say you’re a liar,” Ally says with a sweet smile. “Don’t forget, Penn’s room is just across the hall from you guys, and he’s been staying at Hazel’s place for some peace and quiet.”
“What?!” I sputter in embarrassment, my eyes growing huge, and Ally points at me, triumphant.
“Ha! Your reaction just confirmed it.”
I give her a playful shove, and she falls over laughing.
“So it’s really good between you two, huh?”
I peek at her with a guilty smile. “Amazing,” I admit. “Beyond what I could have imagined.”
“More than just friends with chemistry then, are we?”
“Fine.” I sigh. “You and Hazel were right. There are definitely feelings involved.”
“As I thought.” Ally smiles smugly, and I poke her with my foot. “I was hoping this would happen because it would suck if you and Fisher broke up after one year as planned and we didn’t get to hang out anymore.”
“That’ll never happen,” I tell Ally with a chuckle. “We’re all friends now.”
“I know. But it’s cuter if we’re all couples.” Ally pouts. “I hated how Phoebe and Joey didn’t end up together at the end of Friends.”
“Well…I guess Fisher and I are a couple now.” We haven’t talked about what happens at the one-year mark, but I know we both have real feelings, a real investment in each other, and every day I spend with him, those feelings grow. “We’re, like, married friends who are dating?”
“It’s weird, I guess, but it suits you guys.” Ally shrugs in acceptance, and I smile.
I like our brand of weird. And I like that my husband has given me no reason to think he ever wants to go back to being just friends…which works for me. I want to be his for as long as he’ll have me.
As I crunch on my chips, me and Ally’s phones both ping at the same time. It’s Hazel, in our girls’ group chat.
Hazel
Do we want to give the boys their surprise this afternoon? The package just arrived, so we’re ready to go. I can bring it over after they’re home from practice.
Ally and I look at each other and giggle.
Last week, when we got wine tipsy and watched the boys’ Seattle game on TV together, we came up with a hilarious idea for a gift to congratulate them on making the second round of the playoffs.
We ordered a bunch of the supplies online, and Hazel made a trip to a specific store to pick up the rest. She’s been keeping everything hidden at her apartment across the street until we had everything we needed.
Lila
YES!
Ally
Hazel
Awe, aren’t they cute together? The boys should be home in a few minutes, so I’ll be right over.
“I can’t wait to see their faces,” I say to Ally with a laugh. Fisher’s specifically, after hearing the offhand comment he made about us being the only couple without a pet. A comment he made without having a clue what we were planning, I’m sure he’s going to love this.
Ally snickers. “Noah’s going to be so grumpy about it at first.”
“I’d be more worried about how this guy will react.” I reach over and pet Harry Styles’s head, and he opens one eye and glares at me for disturbing his beauty sleep.
“Honey, we’re home!” The door flies open and Penn walks in, dropping his hockey bag just inside the doorway. Fisher comes in next, stepping over Penn’s bag and dropping his just beyond it.
Noah, last in, sighs. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean those up.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” My husband grins, then makes his way over to sit next to me on the couch. He sits so close his side is pressed firmly against mine. I hold a chip up for him and he bites it out of my hand.
Ally smirks. “Now it’s my turn to finally say this—you two are so cute, it’s disgusting.”
“I know,” I reply.
Fisher grins. “We really are.”
Penn raises a brow. “Is this your way of telling us you’re together for real?”
“I, uh—” Fisher starts, his eyes darting to mine as he seeks backup.
Ally waves a hand. “Please, Fisher. Don’t even try. I already got the truth out of Lila.”
“She’s nosy,” I mutter with a grin, then turn back to my husband. “How was practice?”
“Great. We’re gonna kick some Canadian ass this week.”
Penn sighs. “How many times do I have to tell you there are as many American players on the Canadian teams as there are Canadians on the American teams. Almost half of our damn team are Canadian, remember?”
“Nah, I don’t remember you saying that.”
“Haha, very funny, Fishy.” Penn rolls his eyes, and looks to Noah, who makes a face.
“I’ve never heard such a thing before,” he says innocently.
“You two are such jerks.” Penn crosses his arms.
“Welcome to the club,” Ally holds out her hand to Noah, who high fives her.
I smile at Penn. “Would it make you feel better if I told you we have a surprise for you?”
Penn waggles his eyebrows. “Hear that, Fishy? Your wife got me a surprise. I think she likes me more than you.”
My husband tickles my ribs. “Is this true?”
“It’s for all of you!” I choke out a laugh. “From all three of us.”
“It’s a gift for making round two of the playoffs. Hazel’s coming with it now,” Ally confirms as she looks at her phone.
“Drumroll please!” Hazel calls from outside the front door. The boys all look towards the door, helpless curiosity on each of their faces, as Ally and I drum on the coffee table.
Hazel comes in, a glass box in her hands and a huge smile on her face. She strides over and sets the surprise down on the coffee table. “Presenting…the 3B boy aquarium!”
“What the puck?” Penn demands as the three boys turn their gazes to peer into the fish tank in front of them.
I have to say, it turned out even better than I imagined.
There’s a “3B BOY AQUARIUM” sign, written in turquoise glitter glue, taped to the top of the glass, the gravel spread on the bottom of the tank is turquoise, purple, and gold, and best of all, it has a vinyl background of a hockey rink pasted along the back.
Inside the tank, three fat, bulging-eyed guppies swim around aimlessly. There’s a black one with a brown streak, a white one covered with red splotches, and a gold one with an extra fancy tail.
Harry Styles eyes the tank with interest. “No, Harry,” Ally chides. “You may not eat your dad.”
“Wait.” Noah wrinkles his nose. “Are those things meant to represent…us?”
“No way,” Penn says. “If I were a fish, I’d be something cool like a Siamese fighting fish. Not a damn goldfish.”
“Guppy,” I correct.
“You’re the Canadian flag colored one,” Hazel adds.
“But that thing’s hideous—how could you think that looks like me?” Penn gapes at his girlfriend.
She cackles with laughter. “You’re so vain.”
“Speaking of vain, my fish is the prettiest,” my husband says smugly. He looks highly amused as he peers into the tank, a hilarious contrast to the other guys’ horror.
“Of course it is, Fisher.” Ally rolls her eyes at him. “You have more beauty products than me, Hazel, and Lila put together.”
He ignores her. “Now Lila and I aren’t the only couple without a pet.”
“Fluffy is not a couple’s pet, she’s Hazel’s,” Penn protests.
“Well now you have Little Penn, too,” Hazel says, pointing at the guppy.
“Don’t call him that!” Penn says. “There’s nothing little about me or my damn fish.”
At this point, we’re all laughing uncontrollably. We end up spending the next hour arguing about names for the fish—who I’m sure the guys will grow to love—and after a heated debate, settle on Noah Jr, Penn Jr, and Fishy Jr.
When we head to our room for bed later, I remember I have other news for Fisher.
“I finished my last painting. Wanna see?”
“Of course I do.” Fisher comes to stand behind me, his arms looped around my waist as we study the painting propped up on the easel together. “Wow,” he says after a few minutes of silence. “I know you had excellent subject matter, but these are serious masterpieces”
“I think you might be biased.”
“Not biased at all. You just happen to be the most talented person I’ve ever met.” He takes one of my hands in his and brings it to his lips, kissing my palm.
“You’re biased about that, too,” I say. “Shall we get the others’ opinions tomorrow?”
“Nah.” He chuckles. “I kind of want to see their faces when they see these for the first time on opening night at the gallery.”
“You think they’ll all want to come? I figured the girls might, but I don’t want Noah and Penn to feel like they have to spend their precious free time at a gallery when you guys are in the middle of the biggest hockey games of your lives.”
“I don’t think they will. I know they will.” Fisher’s arms pull me to his chest even tighter. “You’re one of us now. Part of our little family—who are infinitely better than my real family.”
My heart stutters, but the flash of pain I expect to follow doesn’t come. My whole life, my mom was my only real family. I love my friends from the Collective, but I always knew they all had their own lives and families outside of our creative space.
When Mom died, I felt untethered. Adrift.
While being with Fisher—my Hercules—doesn’t make me miss my mom any less, it makes missing her hurt less. Because I know she can look down from the afterlife and see that I’m happy, which is all she ever wanted for me in this life.
“I’m glad to be here,” I tell Fisher.
He smiles and kisses my cheek, and I’m overwhelmed by the sudden surge of love for him that crashes over me. It’s a wave with the force of a tsunami, undeniable in its power. But it’s okay, because he’s here. Anchoring me.
I’m safe.
“You okay?” Fisher asks, and I twist around in his arms, tilting my face up and bringing my hands to the back of his neck to pull him towards me, kissing him ferociously.
I’m more than okay…I’m in love.
And I intend to spend the whole night, and every night after tonight, showing him just how much.