Together We Heal (34 page)

“You know,” I said as we were leaving after setting up a delivery time for the next day, “we might want to think about getting a joint account. I mean, not to put everything in, but so that if we need to buy stuff for the house we could.” Wow, I sounded like a grown-up, talking about joint bank accounts.

“That’s not a bad idea at all. We should do that next week. We could also get debit cards, one for each of us and then we can use them to buy groceries and stuff.” Groceries. There was so much to think about, it almost made my brain hurt, but it was fun too. There was no one else I’d rather shop for groceries with.

“You know what?” I said as we walked back into his dorm room. We didn’t have to move our crap out until Sunday, so Max and I were just going to pack our cars full and then we’d be all set for Monday morning.

“What?” he asked as he waded around boxes and garbage bags full of all of his stuff. He fell back on the bed and I joined him.

“I’m proud of you. For going to therapy and for coming to college in the first place. You’re brave and wonderful and I love you,” I said. Now that I could say the words, I wanted to kick myself for holding them back for so long.

“Aw, thanks,” he said, stroking my arm. “I’m so proud of you. Who knew the two of us would be able to make it? I mean, we still don’t know what we want to major in, or do with our lives, but it doesn’t matter. Hell, I’d work at a fast food joint and as long as I knew I was coming home to you, I’d be the happiest man in the world.” Yeah, well, ditto.

“I’ve been thinking I might like to take dance,” I said. This was one more little thing I hadn’t told him about yet.

“Can you dance? I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance. That’s weird that I’ve never seen you dance.” His eyebrows drew together and he sat up.

“Yeah, that was somewhat intentional. Stryker doesn’t even know. I mean, I never took classes or anything, I would just do stuff to music. I know I’m not going to be a professional, but I still think I’d like to take a class and see what it’s like.” His eyes lit up.

“Would you dance for me?”

I bit my lip. Trusting him still wasn’t easy and it tested me every day.

“I guess. But I need room,” I said, holding my arm out and motioning to the boxes.

That spurred Max into action and within moments the boxes were stacked in his closet and on the beds and I had as much space as you could really get in a dorm room.

“Okay, but if I suck, you have to promise to lie to me,” I said.

“You’re not going to suck, I promise you that.” I rolled my eyes and pulled up the music on my phone. Hm. I scrolled through and picked a song. “Chandelier” by Sia. It was an emotional song with a throbbing beat and it always consumed me when I listened to it.

I set the phone down and hit Play.

Opening my eyes, I looked at Max and let the music flow through me. I didn’t have a set routine to this song, but I’d danced to it before and I let the movement happen.

The world melted away except for a pair of blue eyes that looked at me as if I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. I put everything into the dance, going all out. I wanted to show him the absolute best I had. I wanted to show him the best of me. I tore my heart out and laid it at his feet, hoping he’d accept it because it was already his. It had been his since we first locked eyes at the funeral. Death had brought us together, but this was life. Two people making it work. Two imperfect people that were perfect together.

Tears fell from my eyes, but I didn’t wipe them away. I kept going until I’d given it everything I had and the last beats of the song had faded and then ceased.

My chest heaved and my body was spent. I looked at Max and he had the most intense look in his eyes that I’d ever seen. Without a word he got up and crossed the space between us and seized me.

“I love you so much it consumes me,” he said as he held me so hard I couldn’t breathe. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re real or if you’re just a brilliant figment of my imagination. But there is no way I could have dreamed you up.” I gripped onto him, wishing there was a way I could hold him even tighter.

I pulled back so I could see his face. There were tears hovering in his eyes.

“You’re extraordinary and I can’t believe you’re mine,” he said.

“I feel the same way. I love you, Max.” We both smiled through tears and he asked me one question.

“Will you dance with me now?” I laughed and he wiped the tears from under my eyes.

“Yes, I’ll dance with you. For the rest of our lives.”

“WHY CAN’T THEY
just tell us? Do they have to make it into a big thing?” Trish grumbled as we walked the short distance from our new apartment to Stryker and Katie’s.

“I think it’s kind of nice,” I said. She glared at me.

“It’s just a lot of nonsense.”

Stryker and Katie were revealing the gender of their baby and doing it in grand style. Apparently Katie had been going nuts on Pinterest and between the baby and the wedding, she was getting all kinds of ideas. One of them being a gender reveal party.

“I think it’s just another excuse for them to ask for presents,” Trish said, holding up the bag in her other hand. We’d gotten a little bath set, which was gender-neutral.

“What do you think it’s going to be?” I asked as we walked upstairs to the apartment.

“No idea, but I’m more worried about the name.” I laughed and we walked in. Everyone else was there and waiting.

“Sorry, sorry,” Trish said as Stryker glared at us for holding up the show. They had a large cake frosted white sitting on the kitchen counter and everyone was crowded around it.

“So, what’s the deal here?” Trish asked, setting the present with the others by the couch.

“They made the cake in either pink or blue and when they cut it, we’ll see,” Lottie explained.

“Well, that’s sexist,” Trish said. “Who decided that pink was for girls and blue was for boys? Did you know that pink was originally a boy’s color? Did you?” She directed her comments to Stryker.

“Can you not ruin this, Trish? Like, put your feminism on hold for like an hour.” Trish started to sputter, but I squeezed her hand.

“Let them have their moment,” I said in her ear. She made protesting noises, but closed her mouth.

“Okay, now that everyone is here, we can do this thing,” Katie said, holding up the silver cake cutter. She had a glowing smile on her face and I’d never seen her happier. Stryker put his hand over hers and they cut into the cake together.

“I knew it! You owe me twenty bucks!” Will said, pointing to Simon when the piece was cut and revealed pink on the inside.

“A girl, a girl!” Lottie said, jumping up and down. There were rounds of hugs for the happy parents-to-be and Trish started giving them a lecture about teaching their daughter about strong female role models.

“Well, she’ll have Auntie Trish to teach her all about kicking ass and taking names,” Katie said as she handed out pieces to everyone.

“Damn right. That kid is going to grow up knowing she can do whatever the fuck she wants and the patriarchy can suck it.”

“Hear, hear,” I said, putting my arm around her waist. Maybe she should go into politics. She’d be damn good at it. Trish would be damn good at whatever she did. The two of us had been looking through the course catalogues together and seeing which majors we might want to try.

“We can always change our minds,” she’d said. “And if we don’t want to pick, we can just keep taking classes and never graduate. Then we’ll never have to pay back our loans.” I laughed at that plan. I loved the way her mind worked.

We were going to take the summer and figure our shit out, taking road trips and working our asses off and building our new home together. I hoped to go back and see my parents at some point, but for now phone calls were all I could do. I was still seeing Beth and she was helping me work through a lot of things I’d buried and hadn’t dealt with.

“We should have a baby someday,” Trish said nonchalantly as we walked back after the party. I nearly tripped and broke my neck.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Yeah, why not? I mean, I never thought I wanted kids, but now that I’m seeing it, it doesn’t seem so bad. I might change my mind after that baby pops out, but it’s something to think about. Isn’t it?” I sputtered for a minute.

“Don’t worry, Max. I’m not going to take out my IUD and not tell you and then surprise you one day with a pee stick with a bow around it.” I nearly gagged. Gross. I hoped people didn’t really do that.

“Okay, good. But yeah, sure. Kids. Down the road.” Way down the road.

“Cool,” she said, leaning against my shoulder. “I just think it would be a crime for you not to get to be a dad.”

“You’d be such an amazing mom. Our kids would be awesome.” They seriously would be.

“Yeah, they will be.” For just a second, I allowed myself to picture Trish holding a baby. Our baby. Yeah, that was definitely something I wanted to happen.

“Well, until we decide to make one for real,” I said as we walked in the door and I closed it behind us, “do you want to practice making one?” I pulled my shirt over my head.

“Hell, yeah,” she said and her dress dropped from her shoulders and onto the floor.

“Practice makes perfect.”

I’ve been officially writing this series for almost three years now and it feels like a lifetime. What started out as a stand-alone has become something bigger than I ever thought it would be. I’ve been dying to write Trish’s story ever since I decided that Zan and Lottie weren’t the only ones who needed to have their story told. I didn’t know much about Max before I started writing this book and I’m glad he decided to wait to reveal himself to me.

Writing this book was a joy and I have to thank quite a few people for helping me get here. My editor, Jen, for working overtime without complaint and for saying, via email as she sent me the last edited piece “so, what’s next?” and always being ready for what I have to throw at her. To Jessica, my publicist extraordinaire, who I consistently stress out with my flying by the seat of my pantsness. My formatter, Elle, who is a total rockstar and never says no to me. To Jay Crownover who I’m convinced inspired the direction that Stryker and Katie’s story took in this book, and who has been so supportive of this series. To my other writer friends (who also sometimes function as therapists) Jen, Magan, Susie, Emma, Kathryn, Karina, Cora, Daisy, Tiffany and Chelsea, you’re all worth your weight in pure cocaine, which is a lot, in case you were wondering. To my non-writer friends, Rachel, Liz, Colleen and Caroline, who are always ready to tell me their most embarrassing stories and let me use them in books. To the crew from InkSlinger, you ladies are the best and I’m honored to call you friends. Finally, you. For holding in for this long. For emailing me and messaging me and asking which couple is going to get a book, or making fan art or telling me how you wish Zan was real (believe me, if he was, I would be all over that). This series has been such a huge part of my life and my journey as a writer. I will always love it and treasure these stories and I hope you will too.