He smiles weakly but then drops his chin. “She’s not my future employer yet.”
“Eh, technicality.” I squeeze him to me, and he laughs again. “Pizza?”
“Yeah, sure.”
We step apart just enough for me to drop my arm from around his waist and then take his hand, and together we head into the pizza place. It’s not busy right now, but given the atmosphere, I suspect it will be getting busy closer to the dinner rush. We order a few slices each of Detroit-style deep-dish pizza with various toppings, along with a couple of bottles of water, and then head back out to the patio seating and grab one of the open tables, scooting our chairs close together.
While we eat, we talk seriously about his budget. I pull out my phone and open up the spreadsheet we made earlier in the summer, and together, we update everything. Car insurance removed. Monthly passes for the local bus and train services added. Rent cost updated to reflect the cost of the studio apartment we just toured. Utilities removed from the list. A few other tweaks here and there.
And when it’s all said and done, Nico looks up at me, his eyebrows arched with a tentative hope.
“So . . . it’s doable?” he says. “Maybe?”
“It is,” I answer. “Definitely.”
He just stares at me for a moment, several conflicting emotions flickering in his beautiful eyes. Then he purses his lips and blinks a couple of times. “I’m still scared to hope. Why am I still scared to hope?”
I reach up and cup his cheek, letting my thumb stroke gentlyalong his skin, and we come together in a short kiss that’s sweet and tender and loving. My heart is full, and I’m not sure I’ve ever been happier or more proud of him. When we part, I rest my forehead against his, and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly.
“I can do this,” he says, though he sounds less than sure.
I nod and kiss his lips again, briefly and softly. “And you’re not alone. We’ll be together. I’ll help you. We’ll support each other.”
He closes his eyes, and a single tear slips down his cheek. “Wecan do this.”
“Yes.”
He straightens up and brushes the tear from his cheek. Then he’s quiet for a moment before he says, “I like the apartment. As soon as I get the call from Vera, I’ll email them and put down the deposit. I have enough money saved for that now, yeah?”
Some overwhelming emotion grows in my chest, and all I can do for several seconds is stare at him. It’s real. This is real and happening, and I’m suddenly so grateful, so intensely grateful, as I think back on just a little over a month ago.
I thought I’d be losing him at the end of the summer. I thought I’d be leaving him in Nebraska, my heart breaking more and more each day as we grew farther and farther apart. I imagined life would be condensed into a series of phone calls and unanswered texts, punctuated by infrequent, guilt-filled vacations back home that wouldn’t ever really be long enough.
I’ve never been so glad to be so wrong about anything in my life.
He arches an eyebrow at my silence. “Alex? It’s enough, yeah? I think I have about twelve hundred now, and the deposit is a thousand? Right?”
I nod slowly as a smile spreads across my face. “Sorry, yeah,” I say, my voice catching again. “Yeah, that’s right. You have enough.”
A huge grin spreads across his face, his eyes lighting up, and god, if that’s not just the best sight in the world, I don’t know what is.
Chapter Forty-Three
Nico
Alexclosesthehotelroom door behind us, and with the solidclick, much of the tension I’ve been holding all day seeps away. His arms slip around my midsection, and I let myself melt back into him for support.
I’m exhausted. Maybe even more exhausted than I was earlier after I got back from my interview with Vera. The hour-long nap I had wasn’t nearly enough, although at the same time, I’m not sure if I could fall asleep right now.
There are too many things still floating around in my brain. Half a worry that I’m not actually going to get offered the job after all. More worry that I won’t be cut out for it. Uncertainty about the revised budget we put together over dinner, even though it looked solid and showed that I should have a good buffer every month.
It’s normal to be worried about things. Alex told me his mom’s always reminding him about that. And I’m sure it is. I’m sure she’s right. But it’s hard to get everything to quiet down, especially with how tired I am from the whole day of having to manage my anxiety in a new place, meeting new people, talking and being engaged.
I turn around in Alex’s arms and lean against his chest. “Hold me?” I ask.
He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “Iamholding you.”
I groan and push away from him, starting over toward the bed. When I reach the edge, I let myself fall face-first onto the mattress, breathing out a long sigh. He flops down on his back next to me, and I turn my head to look at him.
