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The first part of the day flows smoothly. I spend it behind the drawing board, trying out different shades of green, red, and blue for tweed patterns. I’ve done my fair share of Scottish textile studies, but I have really dug deep into this particular field since Etienne first mentioned that he wanted to bring it back into the new collection.
By the time I’m done with my renewed proposals, my boss is smiling, definitely pleased with what he’s seeing. I got some good colors in, I’ll give myself credit for that, but it’s his particular eye that makes the final decision. To my delight, it’s a nod of agreement as he takes the swatches off the board and adds them into the collection’s hardcopy folder, where we keep all the approved designs and fabric swatches.
It fills my heart with joy as I admire the thick book, aware that some of my work and creativity has gone into its pages. Soon enough, I’ll be watching handsome young men strutting down the New York catwalk, wearing my designs.
I bid Etienne a good afternoon and make my way back to the front of the store, where I’m greeted by my three men. Matthew, Sully, and Jason have decided to buy a couple of the shirts Lara had set aside for them, so they each have shopping bags waiting by the counter. I feel a smile bloom on my face as I waddle over to my boyfriends and hug each of them. Unfortunately, I can only kiss Matthew in public—we agreed it would be safer, as uncomfortable as it can sometimes be. Perhaps the world will be a little more open-minded someday. For the time being, however, I’m good with the absolute privacy of my home and theirs.
“Hey, baby,” Matthew says, wrapping his arms around me. There’s more of me for him to hug these days, but he loves it. “How was your day?”
“I got a few more things into the upcoming collection,” I reply with sparkling eyes.
“Congratulations, then. Although it’s no longer a surprise at this point. We all know you’re a brilliant designer,” Jason says.
Sully waves Lara goodbye as he grabs the shopping bags and leads the way out of the store. “Come on, beautiful. We’ve got somewhere we need to get to.”
“Oh? I thought we were having dinner at home,” I say, confused. “At my place, I mean. I bought the steaks and everything.”
“Don’t you worry about it,” Jason quips, as Matthew rests his hand on the small of my back and escorts me toward the descending escalator. “You’ll love where we’re taking you.”
“Or so we’re hoping,” Matthew mutters.
Only now do I realize how nervous the three of them really are. I’m not sure what’s going on, but they always get jittery when they’re planning a surprise for me. My birthday party had them really on edge as they went out of their way to make sure I didn’t know anything about it. I specifically remember Sully saying that Matthew nearly had a heart attack when the wrong cake came in from his favorite bakery, Tres Jolie. They’re so adorable when they try so hard— granted, they always succeed when it comes to making me happy, so whatever it is they’re up to this time, I’m sure I’m gonna love it.
I, however, need to start getting used to this good life. There are still moments when I’m filled with self-doubt, when I fear that something might happen and I’ll lose everything again, that I’ll be left on my own with a child to raise. Trauma has a way of taking longer to heal than it did to set in.
Sully takes my car, while Jason, Matthew and I ride in the truck. The conversations are always light-hearted and funny, especially when we hit traffic in midtown. But the closer we get to our destination, I can see that my men are getting anxious again. I can’t help myself from smiling when we reach a familiar part of Providence—though I’m not yet sure what we’re doing here.
“I thought we were eating out,” I mumble as we get out of the truck.
We’re parked outside a residential building in one of Providence’s nicer neighborhoods. Sully pulls my car up behind Matthew’s and quickly joins us with a broad smile. “Ready?” he asks.
“For what?” I reply.
Matthew nods at the building. “There’s something you need to see.”
“You guys…” I mumble, downright confused. “What are we doing here?”
“Relax. You’re gonna love it,” Jason insists, trying to hold back a grin.
Realizing that they won’t tell me more until we get to our destination, I nod quietly and follow them into the building. Judging by the masonry adorning the façade and the wrought iron railing of the interior staircase—both remnants of an Art Nouveau style that has only been preserved in several historical locations across the city—this is definitely one of the poshest places left.
The lobby area is cool and dimly lit.
We reach the first floor and stop in front of a beautiful, lacquered red door with an old-fashioned bronze-brushed knob and a knocker shaped like a lion’s head. Matthew takes out several sets of keys, handing one to each of us. It hits me, now, what I’m about to walk into. I’ve thought about it for weeks but I never expected it to become a reality. I never even said anything in conversation. Hell, I never expected them to actually do this.
“Oh, my God,” I murmur as Matthew opens the door to let us in.
“I figured it was time for us to move in together as a real family,” he says, his voice slightly trembling as he stands in the doorway. “I know we haven’t talked about this with you directly, Selina, but it feels like the right thing to do. It’s also something the three of us want. It will make me happy, it will make us happy, and I only hope it will make you happy, as well.”
“Oh… my… God…” It’s all I can manage at this point, the key ring hanging from my index finger, my hand frozen in midair.
My heart is beating a million miles a minute as I stare at Matthew, then at Sully, then Jason. My soul is about to explode, and I’m sure the baby is just as stoked judging by the restless kicking. It’ll make my bladder explode, eventually. But this is true happiness I’m feeling. Yet another layer of bliss that I’ve dreamed of for as long as I can remember.
“Come on, let me show you around,” Matthew adds.
I follow him inside, marveling at the sleek and minimalistic design. The decor matches the antique Art Nouveau style of the building itself, and the walls, flooring, and furniture all fall under the Scandinavian simplicity palette. I can barely breathe as I behold this beauty. Our home.
“I know you’re an independent kind of girl who’s happy to pay rent and whatnot,” Sully says as we pass through the hallway, my gaze wandering across the framed posters depicting fine prints of Alphonse Mucha’s most popular works. “But you’ve got three men here who want to build a life, a future, and a home with you,” he adds. “And while I do see the appeal of a two-bedroom pad for you and the baby, the four of us will need a bit more space.”
