I wanted to be fully there.
Not just visiting or staying the night, but living with her.
Living with all of them.
Even though I was almost certain what her answer would be, I still second-guessed myself.
A slow smile spread across her face.
“I love it,” she said softly. “That’s what I think.”
I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her nose, relief washing over me.
“Do you want to rent it instead of selling it?” she asked.
“I think that would be too much of a hassle. Finding tenants, making sure they pay on time, making sure they don’t destroy the place… I’d rather just sell it.”
“Fair enough,” she said.
So that was what I did.
I put my apartment up for sale.
Even though I had spent countless nights at Jiya’s house, selling the apartment and moving in made everything feel official.
It sealed my commitment.
Not that I had ever doubted it.
But there was something powerful about taking that step.
The kind that meant something important was beginning.
The first time I saw my things next to hers, a sense of home filled me. Especially the moment I noticed my toothbrush sitting beside hers in the bathroom.
I loved sleeping beside her every night and waking up next to her every morning. It had been years since I had allowed myself to have that kind of closeness again.
And now it was finally happening.
While packing my things with her one afternoon, another thought crossed my mind. “What do you think about moving my bed to your place and selling your current one?” I asked.
She paused, thinking about it. “Mine is a bit cramped for the two of us, isn’t it?”
“Are you kidding?” I laughed. “My legs are always dangling off the end.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Why didn’t you say something before?” she asked. “Now I feel horrible.”
I pulled her gently into my arms. “Ahh, Babe. I’m sorry. That was not my intention. How about we get a brand-new bed?”
She wrapped her arms around my waist. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
As I moved my things into her house, I noticed how much space she had made for me. She cleared out half of the walk-in closet so I could hang my clothes there, and she emptied one entire side of the chest of drawers.
I looked at the empty drawers and then back at her. “I don’t have enough things to fill all of these. You didn’t have to empty this entire side.”
“Use what you need,” she said, smiling. “The rest… we’ll gather things together.”
The simplicity of her words stayed with me. That first night after I officially moved in felt different. The evening before, we had gone out to pick new bedding that reflected both our tastes—a small celebration of the life we were beginning to build.
