Chapter Thirty-Nine — You Live Here #3
“Seriously?” “Sorry.” “You asked.” “I know.” “Then stop apologizing.” Elliot smiled. “Fine.” Ronan closed his eyes again. Elliot stared at the ceiling. Quiet. Too quiet. No footsteps. No keys. No intercom. No scheduled count. He looked toward the clock. 7:16. His chest tightened.
“What time do I have to leave?” Ronan opened his eyes.
“What?” Elliot regretted asking immediately.
Still. “What time?” “What time for what?” “To leave.” Ronan stared at him.
Then actually sat up. “Elliot.” “What?” “You live here.” Silence.
There. Three words. That was all. Elliot looked around.
Bedroom. His clothes in the closet. His toothbrush.
His books. His fucking shampoo. You live here.
“I know.” Ronan’s expression softened. “No, you don't.” Elliot swallowed. “I’m trying.” Ronan lay back down.
Pulled him closer. “You don't have to leave.” Elliot closed his eyes. “Okay.” “No one’s ending the visit.” “Okay.” “No one’s locking you in another room.
” “Ronan.” “What?” “I get it.” “Do you?” Elliot opened his eyes.
Ronan was smiling. Asshole. “Yes.” “Good.” Elliot narrowed his eyes.
“Allowed.” Ronan kissed him. Then got out of bed.
Elliot frowned. “Where are you going?” “Bathroom.” “Oh.” Ronan stopped.
Looked back. Something passed between them.
Five years of watching someone leave a visitation room and wondering when you would see them again. Ronan softened.
“I’m coming back.” Elliot laughed.
“Fuck you.” “I am.” “I know.” And he did. Two minutes later. Because bathrooms were apparently allowed to be mundane again. Ronan came back wearing sweatpants and carrying something behind his back. Elliot frowned.
“What?” “Nothing.” “That is clearly something.” “Get dressed.” “No.” Ronan laughed.
“Underwear at least.” “Why?” “Because I’m trying to have a moment.
” Elliot stared. Then saw his face. Oh. No.
“Ronan.” “Underwear.” “Ronan.” “Elliot.” He got dressed.
Barely. Sat on the edge of the bed. Ronan stood in front of him.
Nervous. Actually nervous. Elliot had seen Ronan angry.
Terrified. Bleeding. Horny. Exhausted. Heartbroken. He had rarely seen nervous.
“What did you do?” Ronan held out a small box.
Elliot stopped breathing. “No.” Ronan stared.
“Great start.” “I mean—” “You've had five years to improve your communication.” “Shut up.” Ronan smiled.
Elliot stared at the box. “You're serious.” “Unfortunately.” “Why today?” “Why not?” “I got out this morning.” “I noticed.” “Ronan.” His expression softened.
“I bought it eleven months ago.” Elliot froze.
“What?” “I've been carrying it to visits for eleven months.” “Why?” “Because I kept almost asking.” Elliot stared.
“What stopped you?” Ronan looked around.
“This.” The apartment. Freedom. Home. “I wanted to ask somewhere nobody could tell me our time was up.”
Fuck. Elliot looked down. Ronan opened the box. Simple band. Dark metal. Nothing dramatic. Perfect.
“I don't have a speech.” “Thank God.” “Asshole.” Elliot smiled. Ronan took the ring out. “I spent five years showing up.” Elliot’s throat tightened.
“Yeah.” “You spent five years doing the work.” He looked away.
Ronan caught his chin. “No.” “What?” “Don't minimize it.” “I killed five people.” “I know.” The words did not flinch.
Never did. Ronan continued. “And you confessed.” Elliot swallowed.
“You helped stop Adrian.” “Yes.” “You testified.” “Yes.” “You went to therapy even when you hated it.” “Still hate it.” “I know.” “You stopped pretending remorse had to look a certain way to count.”
Elliot went quiet. That had taken years. Ronan continued.
“You accepted that some people will never forgive you.” “Yes.” “That some shouldn't have to.” “Yes.” “And you kept choosing what happened next anyway.” Choice.
Always. Ronan held the ring between them.
“I don't know what the rest of our life looks like.” Elliot looked at him.
“I know what tomorrow looks like.” His chest tightened.
Ronan smiled. “You'll complain about my coffee.” “It’s terrible.” “You'll fight me over the shower.” “You take too long.” “You'll probably insult the rug again.” “It deserves it.” “And I'll still be here.” Elliot couldn't speak. Ronan’s voice softened.
“So marry me.” No grand speech. No kneeling.
Just Ronan. Exactly right. Elliot looked at the ring. Then at him.
“You sure?” Ronan stared. “Five fucking years.” “That's not an answer.” “Yes.” Immediate.
“I'm sure.” Elliot swallowed. “You could still—” Ronan covered his mouth.
“No.” Elliot stared over his hand. “No exit speech.” Ronan removed it.
“You taught me boundaries. Let me use one.” Elliot laughed.
Fuck. Then looked at the ring again. Marriage.
Husband. Ronan. A future outside. Not clean.
Not forgiven. Not erased. Still possible.
“Yes.” Ronan froze. Elliot smiled. “Now who needs processing time?”
“Shut up.” “Yes.” Ronan slid the ring onto his finger. Elliot stared. Of course. Ronan noticed.
“One.” “Don't.” “You're going to count all night.” “Probably.” Ronan kissed him. Elliot grabbed him. Then stopped. Ronan groaned.
“What now?” Elliot looked at the ring. Then the apartment. Then Ronan. “You really want me here?” Ronan’s expression softened. “Yes.” “Not because you promised.” “No.” “Not because you waited.” “No.” “Not because you think leaving now would make those five years meaningless.”
“No.” Elliot breathed. “Why?” Ronan stared at him like the answer was obvious. “Because I love you.” Simple. No philosophy. No justification. No Saint. Elliot nodded.
“Okay.” Ronan smiled. “Okay?” “Yeah.” “That’s all?
” Elliot pulled him closer. “I love you too.” “Better.” They kissed.
Later they ordered food because neither could cook anything worth eating.
Elliot spent forty minutes learning how many streaming services apparently existed now.
Ronan showed him the balcony. Elliot insulted the rug again.
Ronan threatened to make him sleep on it.
Elliot reminded him they were engaged. Ronan said that only made eviction easier. Normal. Ridiculous. Perfect. At
11:52, Elliot stood alone in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He looked at himself in the mirror. Twenty-six. Free. Engaged. Murderer. Son. Brother. Stepbrother. Fiancé. All true. None erased another. He looked at the ring. Two. Fuck. Ronan shouted from the bedroom.
“That's two.” Elliot spat toothpaste into the sink. “Fuck you.” “I know you’re staring at it.” “You can't even see me.” “I know you.” There.
Elliot looked at himself again. No mask.
He turned off the bathroom light. Walked into the bedroom.
Ronan was already beneath the blankets. Elliot stopped in the doorway. Ronan looked up.
“What?” Nothing. No clock. No officer. No goodbye. Tomorrow was not something they had to negotiate anymore. Elliot crossed the room. Got into bed. Ronan immediately complained that his feet were cold. Elliot put them against his legs deliberately.
“Asshole.” “Fiancé.” “Unfortunately.” Elliot smiled in the dark.
Then Ronan reached for him. Elliot went willingly.
No command. No test. No reward. Just choice.
He rested his head against Ronan’s chest. Heartbeat beneath his ear.
Real. Here. Home. Five years ago, Elliot had asked the same question every time Ronan stood to leave.
Tomorrow? And Ronan had always answered.
Tomorrow. Now Elliot closed his eyes. No question.
No promise. For the first time, tomorrow didn't require Ronan to come back. Neither of them was leaving.