"When can you sign the lease?" I ask.
"I was planning to go by this week. The landlord said they're doing showings all week and applications are already being processed."
"Let's do it. I'm ready."
"Are you absolutely sure about this? A few hours ago, you were terrified to meet my family. Now you want to move in together?"
"I didn't understand what I was missing." I look around the motel room. At the sagging bed that's never been comfortable, at the thin walls that have heard me cry and scream and beg for help. "I've been surviving in this room for years. Surviving isn't living. I'm done just surviving. I want to live with you. I want to wake up next to you every morning instead of just on weekends. I want to come home to you at night. I want us to have a place that's ours. I want us to have a life."
"I want that too. God, Jay. I feel like I've wanted this my whole life."
"Then let's do it. Let's stop waiting for the perfect time and just do it."
"Okay." I can hear him smiling through the phone, hear the joy breaking through. "Okay, yes, let's do it. Let's really do this."
We talk for another two hours, making concrete plans instead of vague future ideas.
Ivan will sign the lease this week and start moving his stuff from Rosalyn's house. I'll give Mick two weeks' notice tomorrow or more if he needs it. He deserves that much after everything he's done for me. I'll tell Betty the same, give her time to find someone else for the late shift. I'll find an AA meeting near the apartment before I even leave Macon. I'm not going to start skipping meetings just because I'm excited about the move.
"Any idea about a new job?" Ivan asks.
"I've actually been doing some research," I admit, feeling shy about it. "There are a lot of motorcycle shops in the Atlanta area. Custom builders, restoration specialists, dealerships that need experienced mechanics. I've been looking at listings online for weeks, checking out their websites, seeing what kind of work they do."
"You have? You didn't tell me that."
"I didn't want to say anything until I knew I could actually do it. But there's this one shop about twenty minutes from where you live. They specialize in vintage bikes—Triumphs, Harleys, classic Indians. The kind of stuff I love working on, the bikes that have history and character. They had a help wanted banner on their website last week. I don't know if the position is still there, but it got me thinking. It made me believe this could actually be possible."
"That's perfect. That's exactly the kind of work you're meant to do, the work you're good at."
"Mick taught me a lot, and I'll always be grateful. But there's more I could learn at a bigger shop with more variety. More challenging builds, more techniques. And if I can get my foot in the door somewhere legitimate, somewhere with a real paycheck and actual benefits..." I trail off, almost afraid to say it out loud because saying it makes it real.
"Then you'd have a career," Ivan finishes for me. "Not just a job. A real career."
"Yeah. I've never had that before. Something I could build on, something with a future. Something that could actually go somewhere instead of just keeping me in an extended stay motel."
By the time we finally hang up, it's almost one in the morning. I should be exhausted. I drove for hours today, met my entire new family, and made a life-changing decision. But I'm wide awake, buzzing with something I barely recognize anymore.
Hope.
Real, solid hope.
Not the fragile, desperate kind that disappears the moment things get hard. The kind built on a foundation of concrete plans and actual promises and people who show up when they say they will.
In a few weeks, I'll have a completely different life.
A life with Ivan.
Chapter 51: Ivan
I've visited the apartment's leasing office three times already. Once for a brochure, once to tour the unit, and once to fill out the application. Today is the day I sign the lease, the day this becomes real.
The property manager, Sheila, slides the paperwork across the desk. "Alright, Mr. Collins. Twelve-month lease, first month's rent plus security deposit due at signing. You've got the two-bedroom unit in Building C, second floor, unit 207." She taps the page. "Just need your signature here, here, and here."
I sign where she points, my hand steady even though my heart is racing. This is actually happening. I'm signing a lease for an apartment. For me and Jay.
"And you're the only one on the lease initially?" Sheila asks.
"For now. My partner will be moving in soon."
