“Well, lucky for you, I’m a pro,” she teased, giving me the words I’d given to her what seemed like ages ago. “And for the record, I’m very serious where you’re concerned too. I’m not going anywhere, Kash—I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“Promise?” I asked with a sideways smile.
“Promise,” she echoed, stretching up to seal it with a kiss that washed my worry away, leaving only my trust and faith in her. In us.
And I sank into it without another thought.
23
Gravity
LILA
It took us a solid week, but we got my wedding contracts moved to Kash’s business, and I found myself unendingly grateful that through all of this—the tumult for his family and the uncertainty of their future—he’d been at all worried about me. They decided to give Bower the bird, keeping Longbourne open and welcoming the lawsuit like Bruce Lee stepping into a circle of drug lords.
There was much to be said for the single-minded determination and perseverance of the Bennet family.
They had already delivered on their promises to keep my position safe. In fact, at that moment, Kash and I were ambling down Fifth in the delivery van on the way to the Felix wedding.
My excitement was electric, the rush that came with the day I’d been working for, the dash of anxiety in wondering what kind of obstacles would be thrown at me, the thrill of knowing that after today, I would largely be done with the Felix family. And by proxy, Brock.
It was everything I’d been waiting for, and I was only one very long, hectic day away from it.
I’d planned a whole celebration for Kash and me to mark the occasion. Tonight felt like the beginning, the real beginning when we could be together without any Felix-sized obstructions. No more cameras, no more humiliation, and most importantly, no more Brock. Just me and Kash and whatever our future held.
And tonight, I was going to surprise him with the news.
I’d bought an apartment.
It had fallen into place a few weeks ago when I found an apartment near Longbourne within hours of it listing. My real estate agent showed it before lunch, and by mid-afternoon, I made an offer. It was a once-in-a-lifetime deal, and the second I’d walked through that front door, a feeling of kismet had struck me. The apartment so close to the imagined space of my daydreams, it was uncanny, though it needed to be renovated. Gutted, really, which was the only reason it was listed at such a price—still an insane amount of money, but a steal for the Village. Walking through that apartment, its windows tall and the light buttery and brilliant, I could see those lazy Sundays take shape, blossoming and blooming in the empty space.
Things moved quickly from there. I had the down payment in hand, and I’d been preapproved for the rest, including a home improvement loan to handle the renovations. My agent was connected well enough to expedite the inspection process, and she provided a strict list of paperwork that I supplied nearly on signing the contract. As difficult as it had been to find time in my already hectic days for all the extra running around—faxes and notaries and meetings galore—everything had gone off without a hitch. And yesterday, I’d picked up my keys.
It was a prime location, just around the corner from Longbourne and Ivy, and after renovations, I could not only sell it with ease, but make a good bit of money too. The perfect location and perfect apartment, with two bedrooms to grow into. I’d always heard that buying a house was one of the most stressful things one could do. But the truth was, I hadn’t felt it, not beyond the frenetic pace and the constantly growing checklist of things to do. I processed it all, absorbing the tasks with a businesslike detachment and the certainty that the investment was not only sound, but a boon. Of course, I felt that bit of buyer’s remorse that hit everyone when they made a major purchase—there was no way to walk away from a deal that large and feel like you unquestionably did the right thing.
But the most stressful part of the process was keeping it from Kash.
I couldn’t have said why, not exactly. In fact, I hadn’t told anyone, not even my sister. It all happened so fast, and there was, of course, the fear that it would fall through. The process was more like a strange, stressful dream than any kind of reality. And if it did fall through, I didn’t really want an audience for the disappointment. It was a secret, one I guarded with the quiet solitude of a miser, holding my dream in the dark like a golden coin. It was my secret, one I didn’t want to have to defend or answer for, one I’d made strictly because I could, autonomously and decisively.
But it’d been harder to keep it from Kash than anyone. In part, the thought of involving him in such a decision felt too familiar, as if that knowledge would apply some pressure I couldn’t foresee, pressure that would change things. Or maybe it was that I’d chosen a place so close to him, and I didn’t want to spook him by invading his space despite the fact that we spent every spare minute together. But perhaps most of all was the admission that I’d bought this place with him in my mind, with that daydream on my lips, ready to be spoken. It was the intent I found myself denying most. Because I couldn’t pretend as if I hadn’t made this purchase in large part for us.
Even thinking it made my stomach and heart trade places. I knew it was crazy. It was too soon and I was jumping the gun and blah, blah, blah. But even if he didn’t move in right away, I had a feeling he would eventually. He was sick of sleeping in the bunk bed at his parents’ house, and I somehow doubted that once I had a place of my own, he wouldn’t become a regular fixture. The next natural step was cohabitation. It would be convenient above all—or at least, that was the reason I gave for allowing myself such a frivolous musing. It wasn’t like we could ever stay at his place, although I’d suggested it once as a novelty. Apparently, he drew the line at hooking up with his mother under the same roof.
When he put it that way, I saw his point.
It’d made me wish I’d been as carefree as Ivy was when we were teenagers. If I’d accepted her many invitations to hang out with the Bennet brothers, Kash and I might have dated then. I would have snuck into his room while one of his brothers distracted their mom with Jane Eyre. Kissed him in the greenhouse when life was still shining with promise on the horizon. Been part of a hundred Bennet dinners and the undeniable feeling of belonging that clung to them like summer. I mourned the years we hadn’t had together. I wondered what my life would have been like if we’d gotten together all those years ago. If I would have gone to LA or stayed in New York, if I would have even ended up being a wedding planner.
The thought shocked me, left me flapping in the wind like a luffing sail. I couldn’t imagine another profession for myself, not even under duress. But for Kash, I might have.
I’d do just about anything for him.
The delivery van pulled to a stop at the service entrance to Skylight, and Kash smiled over at me as he put it in park.
“You ready for this?” he asked, concern flickering over his otherwise affable face.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. And just think—tonight, we will be through with the Felixes.”
“What if they have another event?”