Page 13 of Love, Second Chances and Other Nonsense
Part of me wants to refuse out of stubbornness, but a larger part just misses him. “What about Millie?”
“Lauren can take her home,” Adam says firmly. “I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”
I hesitate, then nod. “Okay.”
His face breaks into a relieved smile, and he leans down to kiss me quickly. “Great. Let me just go tell them we’re leaving.”
As he jogs back to the restaurant, I watch him go with a mixture of hope and unease. I want to believe everything he’s saying. I want to believe that I’m the only one he wants. But as I see Millie’s face fall when Adam speaks to her, then watch her reach for his arm again as he tries to leave, the knot in my stomach tightens once more.
Still, when Adam returns to me, his face happy as he takes my hand, it’s easy to push those doubts aside. At least for now.
4
Chapter 4
Caitlin
The box in my arms weighs a ton, and sweat trickles down my back as I climb the stairs to our new apartment. Our apartment. The words still feel strange, exciting, and terrifying all at once. Adam is three steps ahead of me, carrying two boxes stacked precariously, his t-shirt clinging to his back in dark patches. The summer sun beats relentlessly down on it. The air feels like I’m standing in an open oven.
“Just two more trips after this one,” Adam calls over his shoulder, not even sounding winded. Meanwhile, I’m questioning all my life choices, especially the ones that led me to pack so many books.
The door swings open to our new space. Adam holds the door as I shuffle past him, dropping the box onto the carpeted floor with a dramatic groan.
“Home sweet home,” I say, turning in a slow circle. Sunlight streams through the windows, casting long rectangles across the floor. Despite the heat, despite my aching arms, a bubble of happiness rises in my chest. This is ours. Mine and Adam’s.
“Two more trips,” Adam reminds me, already heading back toward the door.
“Can’t we take a break?” I wipe sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm.
“The sooner we get everything up here, the sooner we can relax,” he says, practical as always. “Come on, I’ll race you back down.”
I groan but follow him. We’ve been at this for hours, first loading and now unloading the Uhaul. My legs feel like jelly, but I know he’s right. Better to get it all done now.
The next two trips pass without us saying much, except for my muttered curse when I stub my toe or Adam’s when he banged his elbow against a doorframe. By the time the last box is in the apartment, I’m ready to collapse.
“Need water.” I announce, pulling a couple of bottles out of our cooler, and handing one to Adam. He drains it in one go, his throat working as he swallows. I try not to stare.
“We should start with the living room,” he says, setting his empty bottle down. “Get the big furniture placed before we unpack anything else.”
For the next hour we arrange furniture, bickering about the placement of the couch and TV.
“I still think it should go against this wall,” Adam says, pointing. “That gives us the best angle to watch TV.”
I tilt my head, trying to visualize it. “What about under the windows? Then we could look out at the mountains while we drink our morning coffee.”
Adam frowns slightly. “But then the TV would have to go on that short wall, and it wouldn’t work with the layout.”
“Who says we need the TV to be the focal point?” I ask, walking over to the windows. “Look at this view.”
He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I’ve learned means he’s trying not to get frustrated. “The morning light would create a glare on the TV screen if we put the couch there.”
“So we get curtains,” I counter. “Come on, lets just try it my way.”
“I’m trying to be practical,” he says. “The room works better with the couch against the wall.”
I plant my hands on my hips. “And I’m trying to make our home beautiful. Not everything has to be about practicality.”
We stand awkwardly in our half-unpacked living room, neither of us wanting to give in. My stomach chooses that moment to let out a loud growl, breaking the silence.
