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“You’ve raised a wonderful son, Gail,” my mom says sincerely, her hands busy with a stack of plates. “He’s been a rock for Elowyn. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”
Gail pauses, her eyes welling up. “That means a lot,” she replies, her voice thick with emotion. “Weston’s had his share of struggles, but he’s a good boy. And Elowyn’s been good for him. More than good.”
The heartfelt exchange is cut short as Eden suggests picking up some Chinese food from the place down the street. The idea is met with unanimous approval, the promise of food adding renewed energy to the room.
She and Banjo coordinate the order and pool together some cash, and by the time they come back, everyone is draped over various pieces of furniture and excited to see some crab rangoons. Mom pulls out a stack of paper plates from the bag she brought over, and Ensley helps dish everything out. Banjo comes back from his truck with his namesake instrument, and he starts plucking out a tune at Gail’s request.
“You know,” Weston says, pushing around a forkful of pork lo mein with a mischievous grin. “If I knew that things would turn out like this, I would’ve set fire to my apartment years ago. Could’ve skipped a lot of steps. Got to the happily ever after part everybody’s always yammering about.”
“Speaking of,” Eden pipes up. “Do you have a good renter’s policy? I have a friend who—”
Ensley flicks a piece of rice at her playfully. “Hush. Let them enjoy things.”
“I can grab my apron,” I tease. “Throw it on the counter. See what happens. Maybe this time we’ll get a whole house.”
Weston laughs before kissing me, and while this isn’t the life I ever imagined for myself, I don’t think I’ll ever dream of anything else again because the picture in my mind—a vibrant future full of love and kids and family—fills my heart to overflowing.
The shrill trill of my phone startles me from my thoughts, Jesse’s name flashing on the screen. I’ve been meaning to remove him from my contacts and block his ass, but I just didn’t get around to it in time obviously. My heart does a quick tumble in my chest. I hesitate, then step outside into the hallway to answer, my voice a whisper. “What do you want?”
His voice, once a source of fear, is softer, more tentative. “Hi, Elowyn. I’ve been meaning to talk. About how things ended between us. I... I wanted to tell you that I’m in therapy.”
I blink, surprised, my hand gripping the phone tighter. “Therapy?”
“Yeah, it’s... it’s been helping. I’ve also started to attend some AA meetings and I’ve stopped drinking. I’m sorry for how I treated you, Elowyn. I was wrong. You didn’t deserve any of it. I know it’s not enough, but I hope that someday, with time, you’ll be able to forgive me.”
His words echo in the silence, a myriad of memories rushing back—the harsh words, the manipulation, the bruises, the fear. It feels like a lifetime ago, a time when I didn’t understand what love really was, when I accepted less than I deserved in the name of passion and chemistry.
“Thank you for calling and letting me know, Jesse,” I finally reply, my voice steady. “I hope you find the peace you’re looking for. I’ve found mine.”
“You deserve every bit of happiness the world has to offer,” he whispers. “You’re a great person, El. I’m sorry things didn’t work out for us.”
A sense of relief washes over me. It’s like the closing of a painful chapter, one that had remained half-read for too long. Not that I’ve forgotten about my past. But, facing it once again, acknowledging it, I realize I’m no longer the same woman who trembled and cowered at Jesse’s anger. I’ve grown, I’ve learned, I’ve healed. I’ve become someone who knows what love really looks like, someone who knows she deserves to be cherished.
Weston pops his head out the door and puts an arm around my shoulders as I slip back inside the apartment. This is my man. My future. My happily ever after. A slow smile curls at the corner of his mouth, his eyes twinkling with warmth and promise. His love, unlike Jesse’s, doesn’t smother or harm. It lifts and empowers. And as I give him a squeeze, I can’t help but marvel at the woman I’ve become.
The one who learned to love herself, to demand respect, to accept nothing less than absolute adoration. The one who would never allow herself to be treated that way again. And just like that, the ghost of the past is laid to rest. It’s over. I’m free.
As the day draws to a close, and the apartment becomes more of a home, I can’t help but feel a sense of contentment. Amidst the noise and bustle, the laughter and the tears, we’re building more than just a living space. We’re building memories, bonds, and a place that Weston and I can call our home.
Some would probably say that love born of pain is the strongest love of all. The dark room is where a photographer’s vision comes to life. Allowing others to see the world through their eyes. And out of that darkness, something beautiful is created.
Just like the beautiful love that Weston and I are creating together.
After we say our last goodbye to everyone, he slips into the seat beside me on the sofa. “Elowyn,” Weston murmurs, his voice husky, heavy with emotion. He reaches for my hand, his fingers wrapping around mine in a secure hold. His gaze is like molten silver in the dim light of our living room, intense and full of promise.
“Weston,” I reply, matching his tone. My heart flutters in my chest, a bird in full flight. I take in the man beside me, our thighs just brushing, the contact electric.
“Thank you,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. His fingers tighten around my hand, the pressure almost desperate. “For being my soft place to fall. For thinking I deserve love. For everything. Most of all, for letting me see that forever is a possibility for me.”
“That’s easy. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Weston,” I start, but before I can complete my sentence, he leans in, his breath warm against my cheek.
His lips meet mine in a soft, meaningful kiss that leaves me breathless. A rush of affection fills my heart, overwhelming me. We’re on the precipice of something more, and the anticipation thrills me more than anything.
“I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you,” he whispers against my lips. “Let’s initiate this place properly.”
The raw honesty in his voice makes my breath hitch. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer, the barriers between us dissolving in this intimate moment. This is us, learning, growing, and falling deeper in love every day.
With wicked intent, he slides down off the couch and onto his knees on the floor. I peek at him from underneath my eyelashes, as he pushes my legs apart and kisses his way up and down the inside of my thighs.
