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He put his head back down, tightened his hold on me. “One hundred percent.”
Epilogue
Linden
Three months later
“Please be careful with those,”I said to the removalist guys. It was an open box with six beautiful frames and the glass display case of my origami flowers. “They’re very special. Break anything else and I won’t care.”
Keats laughed as he slid another box onto the kitchen counter. “They’re notthatspecial.”
I gasped and moved the box protectively closer to my chest. “Don’t talk about them like that.”
The biggest of the removalist pair gave me an odd look as he walked out. They were almost done, and then we could get organising. We could get settled in.
It was agreed without saying that Keats would do most of the lifting and the organising would be on me. After all, organising was what I did. The first thing the removalists had brought in was our bed, and I’d had it made before they’d brought in the second lot of boxes.
Yes, we were moving in together. Almost four months to the day since our first date.
Four months of perfection.
And we kept questioning the speed of it, but there was no denying how right it felt. Even our closest friends and our families admitted we were such a great fit. Like we’d been together for four years, not four months.
My mum had had her reservations in the beginning. When I’d told her how serious Keats and I were, she was wary. Then she met him. She saw how much he loved me, the way he treated me. She saw what a wonderful guy he was, and more importantly, she saw how we were together.
Then when I’d mentioned that we were considering moving in together when Keats’ lease was up, she was over the moon for us.
Same with Keats’ mum. She adored me, and she loved how happy I made her son.
And our friends were happy for us too. Also happy that we’d found a two-bedroom apartment in Broadway, close to cafés, restaurants, the city.
“Where do you want this?” Amon asked, holding a rather large box full of my work folders.
“In the first bedroom,” I replied. “Thank you!”
Cory was behind him, holding a smaller box for the kitchen. “Those removalists are hot,” he whispered, fanning his face.
I rolled my eyes. “Like you don’t have your own huge man taking care of you.”
He grinned. “Oh, I know. I can still appreciate the view.”
The removalists came in with Keats’ new couch, and Keats came in after with another box. “These are your work folders, babe,” he said. “Spare room?”
“Yes, please.”
Amon appeared and Cory quickly slotted himself into his side. He looked almost childlike under Amon’s huge arm, giventheir size difference. But man, Cory had never been this happy. I couldn’t help but smile at the two of them together.
Then the removalist guy wheeled in a trolley with all our plants. “Veranda?”
“Yes, please.”
The other removalist guy came in, said that was everything off the truck, and they left us in a new apartment with boxes and furniture everywhere. I’d never been this excited at the prospect of so much work.
“First things first,” I said. “Before we order food and stop working.” I held up the first frame. It was a simple white frame with an expertly displayed picture. It was actually an antique heavy paper card with a hand-painted watercolour green carnation.
It matched perfectly the other four. Keats had gifted me these when our final HIV tests came back. They were negative, but he’d arranged these prints prior, regardless of the result, to prove his love wouldn’t change.
Five hand-painted flowers.
