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I shift the drawer open, my heart sinking when I spy the labeled envelopes inside, the wad of cash that she threw in here in a hurry when I walked in.
Rent. Hydro. Wifi. Emergencies. There’s a fifth envelope labeled Groceries, but it’s ripped in half, presumably because she eats every meal at my place. There’s a dollar amount written on each envelope, and I count every bill in the drawer, frowning when she comes up three-hundred-and-twenty dollars short.
No wonder she’s been an anxious mess and working like crazy. What I don’t understand is why she doesn’t just ask me for help.
Actually, I do understand that, because I know Claire, and she’d rather get tossed out on her ass before asking me for money. Still, I pull the cash from my wallet and add it to the drawer, hoping she never finished counting it in the first place.
Claire joins me upstairs fifteen minutes later like clockwork and does her best to put on a happy face, but she’s quiet and distant, distracted, and I don’t like it. After dinner, I tug her down beside me on the couch, brushing her hair off her face and placing a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” I tell her quietly. If I’m being honest, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. The thought sprouted at the cottage, and I haven’t been able to shake it. I would have asked her sooner, but Claire is tricky—see the three weeks I spent chasing her stubborn ass.
She doesn’t respond, just hums as I stroke her face, pale green eyes fluttering closed. Her cheeks are rosy, her face a little bit warm, her long lashes laying against her silky skin. I sweep my thumb under her eyes, a silent plea to look at me.
“I want you to move in with me, Claire.”
Her body tenses in my hold as soon as the words leave my lips. “What?”
“I want you to live here with me, Claire. I want my home to be your home. Our home.”
She turns over in my arms, palms pressing into the cushions as she pushes up to sitting. “I…what…I mean…why?”
I snort a laugh, moving beside her. “What do you mean why? Because I love you. Because I don’t want to be without you. Because I want you in my bed every night.”
“I already am in your bed every night,” she mumbles, looking down at her fists as they clench in her lap.
“Right. So let’s make it official. Let’s make my bed your bed. You have an apartment you never use. I think today was the first time you’ve showered there since we started dating. It’s like we already live together. You can save so much mon—”
“I don’t need your money!” she growls out, jumping to her feet. “I don’t need it, Avery! I-I-I…I can do it on my own!” She buries her face in her hands, turning away from me as her cries pierce the air.
I launch off the couch, gripping her biceps. “Hey, hey. Claire, honey, I didn’t mean it like that. Not at all, sweetheart.” I rub her arms, her forehead hitting my chest while she trembles in my arms. My eyes squeeze shut, heart swelling. I hate when she cries; it feels like my heart is being ripped from my chest.
“You can’t fix everything with money,” she whimpers.
“What do you mean? I’m not trying to—”
“You are,” she cuts me off. “You’re only asking me to move in because you think I’m poor. You think I need you to take care of me.”
My mouth opens, my eyes flickering at her words. Yes, I want to take care of her. Yes, I know she’s hard up for money, but only because she’s paying for an expensive condo by herself. She makes good money and she works hard. But her being short on rent is not why I want to live with her.
“I know you can do it all on your own. It hurts that you think that’s the only reason I’d ask you to move in.” I take her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “I love you. Plain and simple. This time with you has been the best time of my life, and I never want it to end.”
Tears roll down her cheeks as her eyes squeeze shut, her fingers wrapping around my wrists. “You’re going to change your mind.”
My heart stops. “What?”
“You won’t want me forever,” she says on a shaky exhale.
“Claire, you’re—”
Her eyes flip open, blazing. “Crazy?”
I shake my head furiously. “Wrong. You’re fucking wrong.”
She pushes away from me, disappearing down the hallway. I follow her, stopping short when she starts pulling clothes out of the dresser she uses, tossing them in her workbag.
“Claire.” My arms circle her waist from behind, pulling her into my chest, and I nuzzle my face into her neck.
“Stop, Avery.” She spins in my arms, getting right up in my face. “You can’t solve every argument with sex!”
