“A dog could be good protection,” she says quietly. “For when you’re not here.”
My housewarming gift to Eden was a video security system. She has cameras all around the property, and I set up the text alerts to message both my phone and hers if anything triggers the sensors.
Star Falls is safe, but you can never be too safe. Even if I’ve mostly been notified that she has an active family of raccoons living out back. Definitely one point in the pro column if she’s thinking about getting a dog.
“Do you not feel safe here?” I ask, growing concerned. “When you’re by yourself?”
She nods, her soft hair rustling against the fabric of my shirt. “It’s not that so much. It’s just… I don’t know. This place feels different when you’re not here, like something’s missing.”
I lift her chin so I can look her in the eye. “Babe, we talked about this. This is your house. Your first home. You’ve got to spend time in it. You don’t need anyone else claiming a closet or half your bed. Isn’t that what you want? Reorganizing everything? Making this the perfect place for you and Junie?”
She shrugs. “Yeah. That makes sense. I know I need to do things for myself.”
“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying this is your house. Your dream. I want you to have a little time to enjoy it. I don’t need to have my name on the mailbox to feel at home here.”
She’s quiet, but then she sniffs hard, and her cheeks grow red. “Is it because you don’t want me? Are we too much?”
I move so I’m sitting at the edge of the couch and can see right into Eden’s eyes. “Are you serious?” I ask quietly. “What are you saying?”
Eden’s voice is shaking. “I know we’ve only known each other a few months, but would you want to move in here with us?”
The breath catches in my throat at her question. “That’s a massive step, babe. Is that what you want?”
Her face is expressionless. “I want to know what you want, Vito. I need you to just tell me the truth.” She looks down at her hands. “I feel like ever since I moved into this place, you’ve pulled away a bit.”
I reach for her hands, and we lace our fingers together tightly. “Eden, I’m not just here for the good times. I’m not that guy, the one who bolts the second things get boring or serious or hard.” I bite down on my lower lip, trying to find the right words. “I want to be here for you, no matter what you’re doing.”
It’s then I realize that I have completely and totally forgotten about Michelle’s offer.
“Shit,” I say and slap my forehead. “Babe, I’m a fucking moron. You see what I mean? I forgot to give you a message.” I lean back against the couch and sigh. “I’ve got to take ten steps back. So, on the day of your closing, Michelle asked if we could talk.”
Eden’s body immediately stiffens, and I know I have only a couple seconds before I shatter her trust in me.
“Now, look, I’ll show you my phone, babe. That was the only time I’ve talked to Michelle in five years since our divorce except, of course, for the day we ran into her at the college.” I reach for my phone, which is sitting on the coffee table, but Eden stops me with a hand on my arm.
“I don’t need to see. I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.” The words are coming out of her mouth, but they don’t quite match the look in her eyes.
That’s not good enough for me.
“Uh-huh,” I say, shaking my head. I pick up the phone and swipe the screen. “I want you to trust me completely.”
She smiles, a sad, thin thing. “I do trust you completely, but it means everything that you would offer to show me proof.”
“How the fuck did we get on this topic?” I ask, crinkling my brow.
“You said you forgot to give me a message,” Eden reminds me.
“Right.” I scroll to the last text and show it to Eden. “Michelle asked me to give you a message the day the house closed, and I seriously forgot. It left my mind the second I walked out of there, and now I don’t even know if the offer still stands.”
“Offer?” She sits up straight and now does peer over my shoulder as I text.
Me: I’m a fucking idiot, but that’s not news to you. I completely forgot to mention your offer to Eden. She bought a house, and with all the moving and shit, it slipped my mind. I’m with her now. It’s been a month, though, so before I tell her, I just want to ask if the offer is still open?
I click send and turn to Eden. “I’m going to tell you anyway,” I say, “but I don’t know what I’m going to do if shit’s changed and I screwed you out of a great thing.”
She looks at me, her beautiful eyes squinting, as if she’s trying to read the honesty there in my face.
“First of all, I’m so sorry it slipped my mind, and I didn’t tell you sooner. I get so focused on work, and then when I’m not on the job, I am all in whatever else I’m doing. And for the last month, that’s been you.”
