Astoria’s throat tightened. “Thank you.”
“We’ll see you Friday at the exhibition.”
“I’ll save you first-row seats.”
Harper hugged her too, brief and solid. “Stop worrying so much,” she said. “You're family. That's not changing.”
“I know,” Astoria said and felt it ring true.
They loaded a sleepy Willow into the car and pulled away from the house, both of them waving at the porch where Nadia and Harper stood together, backlit by the warm glow from inside. Miller reached across the console and slipped her hand in Astoria’s.
“They love you,” she said.
“I love them too.”
“They’re going to spoil our hypothetical children rotten.”
Astoria smiled, watching the neighborhood slide past. “I’m counting on it.”
The house was dark when they pulled into the driveway, just the porch light Miller had left on casting a warm glow across thefront steps. Willow stirred in the back seat, yawned dramatically, and followed them inside with the resigned air of a dog who'd had a very long day.
“You want anything?” Miller asked, dropping her keys on the counter. “Maybe some tea?”
“Just you.” Astoria held out her hand. “Come outside with me.”
They walked through the living room and out onto the deck, the ocean spreading before them. The moon hung low over the water, illuminating the gentle ripples. Crickets sang in the darkness, and somewhere in the distance, an owl called out.
Miller pulled Astoria close, wrapping her arms around her from behind, and they stood there watching the waves break against the rocks below.
“Your moms are going to show up at the exhibition with a list of questions for every artist,” Astoria said.
“Harper will definitely corner someone about their creative process.”
“And Nadia will ask if they’ve eaten recently.”
Miller laughed softly. “Definitely.”
They fell into the comfortable silence shared by two people who didn’t need to fill every moment with words. Astoria leaned back against Miller’s chest, and Miller tightened her hold as she pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Do you ever think about it?” Astoria asked. “How different things could’ve turned out?”
“Sometimes.”
“We almost didn’t make it here.”
Miller turned Astoria in her arms, meeting her eyes in the moonlight. “But we did.”
“We did,” Astoria agreed softly.
“And I’m not going anywhere,” Miller said. “You know that, right?”
“I know.” Astoria’s smile was small but certain. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“Forever please?”
“Forever. Promise.”
Miller kissed her, tasting the salt air on her lips. When they broke apart, Astoria’s eyes were bright, reflecting the starlight.
