Page 36 of Not Because You Loved Me

I looked around the home we were building together, then back to his face. "So... I was thinking."

"Dangerous," he teased softly, his chest rumbling against mine.

"Your apartment lease is up at the end of the month, right?" I asked.

"Yeah. The landlord asked last week if I was renewing."

"Don't renew it," I said simply.

Trent blinked, leaning back a fraction to look at me. "What?"

"Don't renew it," I repeated, resting my hands against his chest. "It makes zero sense for you to pay rent on an apartment while you're working so much, and this house isn't going to be finished until next spring. You should stay with me."

"Kat," he murmured, his eyes searching mine carefully. "I don't want you to feel rushed…"

"I'm not rushed," I interrupted gently, smoothing my thumb over his collarbone. "We tried rushing into a ring when we weren't ready, and it broke us. But moving in together now? Living our real, daily lives together while we finish this place slowly without stressing ourselves out? Beyond the fact that it makes sense if we ever want to see each other this fall…” I laughed, but then went up on my tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, before pulling back slightly, whispering, “I want this. Move in with me, Trent."

Trent stared at me for three long seconds before a wide, breathtaking smile broke across his face.

"Okay," he whispered, kissing me hard and fast on the lips. "Okay. I'll move in."

"Good," I smiled, stepping back, then reached out, sliding my hand into his. "Now let's lock up this house, go home, and get cleaned up."

I gave his hand a suggestive little tug, a wicked spark lighting up my eyes. "...together."

Trent’s eyes darkened with heat, a low, husky laugh pulling from his chest as he grabbed his truck keys. "You don’t have to ask me twice."

Epilogue 1

A Year Later

Katerina

Fall and winter bled into a chaotic spring. It had been a whirlwind of progress, late nights, and profound joy.

My first year of medical school was everything I’d hoped it would be: demanding, exhausting, and intensely rewarding. Managing a full course load while staying on with the hockey team took every ounce of discipline I had. When the team made a deep run into the playoffs, my schedule officially went off the rails with travel, back-to-back games, and helping to keep the team taped together.

While I was on the road during the playoff push, Trent was back home, pulling double duty.

He didn't just keep his construction company running; he spent every free evening at our future house, finishing the final touches he knew I was too stressed to worry about, hanging the custom light fixtures, installing the kitchen backsplash, and finishing the trim in what was now my designated study nook. He sent me regular updates and a few sweaty selfies because he knew how much it bothered me that I had barely stepped foot into the house when exams blurred into the playoff push and then the playoffs.

When I’d finally made it home after our season had wrapped, I found a note on the island from Trent asking me to meet him at our house. Quickly showering and dumping my bags to deal with later, I excitedly rushed over to the house and my boyfriend, whom I missed. When I walked through the front door, the house was completely finished. Fresh paint, restored hardwood in some places, new in others, warm sunlight streaming through the windows, and not a single speck of construction dust left in sight.

That was three months ago, and we were now living in the home we renovated together.

Today was a quiet Saturday afternoon. Trent was in the backyard, playing with Leo, who was now a thriving, energetic fifteen-month-old who kept Cynthia and Davis on their ‌toes. Gideon was inside our kitchen, loudly claiming he was an expert at grilling steaks for tonight's family dinner while taking credit for the granite countertops he hadn't helped install. I laughed, remembering the picture Trent had sent me of Gideon supervising, with a beer in his hand.

I stood at the kitchen island, leaning back against the polished stone, holding a cold glass of lemonade and watching the sun set over the back lawn.

I was so happy and absolutely at peace. We had moved on from our past and were enjoying our life together, built honestly from the ground up.

A feeling of warmth washed over me as Trent walked through the back sliding door. He wore a dark t-shirt, jeans, and that easy, grounded smile that still made my heart do a familiar, happy flip.

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful blur of laughter, shared stories, and Gideon almost burning the first round of steaks before Davis stepped in to salvage them. Watching our house fill with the people we loved, listening to little Leo babble in the yard, and seeing Trent’s parents so happy, felt like the final piece of the puzzle sliding into place.

By nine o'clock, the gathering had finally wound down. Gideon left with a plate of leftovers, and Davis and Cynthia headed home to put Leo to bed.

The house was completely quiet, for the first time all day, the gentle summer breeze rustling the leaves outside the open kitchen window.