35. Ash

THIRTY-FIVE

Atlas shakes his head. "I can't believe this," he chuckles as we walk around the empty house.

"What? You don't like it?" I ask with a smirk as I look at the large eat-in kitchen with new appliances before heading down the hallway together.

"Well, of course I do. I just always thought you would be in that damn apartment forever." There's a primary bedroom with an en-suite and two other bedrooms that are bigger than the bedroom I have now.

"Yeah, well, I think it's time to start putting down some roots. Plus, I want to be next door to my nephew." Atlas' smile triples at the mention of his due-any-day baby boy, whom they've decided to name Howard.

"My poor sweet Ren is so over this pregnancy. I feel so bad for her. Her whole body hurts, and Howie refuses to stay head down, so the poor girl is not sleeping or breathing well."

"When is she due?" I ask as we head out of my new house. I just signed the papers on the property next door to Atlas and Ren an hour ago, and I haven't told anyone but Atlas.

"Tomorrow, but if she doesn't go into labor by Wednesday, they'll induce her." I cross my fingers as I hug my friend and slap him on the back before hopping into my car and driving off. It's been a wild time these last few months.

Indy moved back in with me for about two months before having another relapse. She ended up in the hospital for a month, and while there, she got talked into starting up her nonprofit again for the children's hospital. I was against it because of her condition, so I obviously got told to pound salt, and she moved back in with Stevie, where she's been for about eight weeks now. Stevie started doing extended piercing hours a few days a week, so Indy works nights with her. I"m not a fan, but I have to accept that Indy is an adult, capable of making adult decisions, and those decisions will not always align with my thinking. Or something like that. My therapist says it way better.

I am six months into my therapy sessions. I was going twice a week until we got me on medication to help with my anxiety disorder, as well as some exercises to help me when I feel like I'm not enough or the people that I love will leave me. It's been a difficult road, but now I'm at one session a week, on a medication that"s helping me, and I feel a lot less afraid.

I flip through the touchscreen on my car dash until I find the contact I'm looking for. I hit the phone icon, and it rings four damn times before the uneven, crackling voice comes on.

"Hey, Ash," Wade says, and I can tell he's distracted.

"Hey, bud. Man, that voice change is a bitch, ain't it?"

"Ha ha, almost as funny as Mom and her ‘how's the weather up there'." I chuckle and shake my head. Seemingly overnight, Wade went from five-foot-six to six feet, and his voice has been haywire all week. I feel bad. Puberty is a bitch, but he"s taking it well. Much better than Sunday, who can often be found curled around Wade's baby blanket. The woman is beside herself now that ‘Wade is a man.' Thankfully, her very popular ballet studio keeps her busy with children most of the time.

"Is your mama ready?" I ask as I turn toward the apartments.

"Uhh… probably? About five minutes ago, she was cussing about feeling too pudgy for her outfit, so I'd say she'll be done in ten minutes."

"Well, tell her I'll be upfront when she's ready to come out. Now you are going to behave, right? This is a big step." I can almost hear his eyes roll.

"I'm almost fourteen and in an apartment with controlled access. I think I can handle being alone for a couple of hours while you go be gross with my mom."

"We're going for tacos," I reply flatly.

"Is that what you kids are calling it now?"

I chuckle. He's quick and sharp like his mom.

"If you need us, call. I love you, bud."

"Yeah, yeah, the only one I'm calling is the pizza guy. Love you too, Dad." Dad. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that name. Wade started calling me dad about three months ago. It was a joke at first because I had begun helping Sunday out with Wade. Watching him, helping with homework, doctor's appointments, whatever was needed while she was busy adjusting to her new class schedules. We would trade off whenever needed. So, Wade called it dad mode. I had a panic attack the first time he said it, but over time, I started to like it, and now it's my preferred name. I like that he calls me his dad. I like that he feels comfortable enough to allow me to be that person for him.

"Holy shit." I choke on my spit when I see Sunday walk out of the main entrance. She has on a red cami sundress with small white flowers all over it. The dress ends at her mid-thigh, far too short for her to be wearing anywhere without me. Yes, that's my caveman"s brain, but I don't care; it's true. She slides into my car and smiles softly.

"Hey," she says and leans over to kiss me softly.

"Hey, sunshine." I kiss her back before taking off.

"So, are you going to tell me where we are going?" she asks as she crosses her legs. I can't help but glance at her toned thighs and the hem of her dress creeping up slightly.

"Told you," I smile as I grab her hand and bring it to my lips. "Picking up tacos." She laughs at me and shakes her head as I continue the drive. These last six months with Sunday have been, well, they'vebeen amazing. But not like blissfully, easily, amazing. It's been work, and there were times that I think we both feared if the work would be enough.

I refused for us to get back together until I earned her love. After week three, she kicked down my door and told me that I was her boyfriend, and if I didn't like it, that was too fucking bad. We've been working on everything together since. We still don't technically live together, but that's because we both know that our apartments are temporary and moving everything seems pointless.

"Why arewe going to Ren and Atlas'?" Sunday asks as I drive down their street. "Oh my god! Did she have the baby and not tell me?" I laugh as I pull into the driveway next to theirs and reach behind Sunday to the backseat to grab the bag from the taco truck we went to on our first date.

"No, she didn't have the baby. Come on, sunshine," I say and motion to the house. She looks at me suspiciously but follows me up the steps and waits on the front porch as I open the front door, letting her in. We walk into the dark house, and I turn the light on in the kitchen while setting the food down on the counter. Scrolling through my phone, I pull up some soft music and turn up my volume. Sunday looks around tentatively.

"Okay," she laughs, "I'm confused."

"I bought it." I smile broadly. Sunday's eyes widen in surprise.

"W-wow, you're moving? That's… that's great." I watch her smile change, and I dim slightly.

"Wait, you don't like the house?" I ask, anxiety filling my body. "Ren said you loved this house."

"Oh! No, I do, it's beautiful. I just didn't know you were ready to move away."

I walk over to her and wrap my hand around her waist while clasping her other hand and swaying with her to the music.

"Move in with me," I say softly, and I feel her freeze.

"What?" she laughs in surprise.

"Move into this house with me. Help me make this place a home. You, Wade, and even Alice."

"Ash," she says my name so softly. "Are you sure you want that? Really sure?"

I don't allow her words to hurt me. She has a right to voice her fears, and they are valid. "I am," I say, kissing the tip of her nose. "Well, not exactly," I say as I back away from her, and she deflates slightly.

"There is one other thing I want."