“I can’t believe you’re trading in a freaking penthouse for our house.” Charlie shakes his head at me as I walk over with another box. “You have a hot tub, dude. A hot tub.”
I choke on my laugh because that hot tub has seen a lot things no kid needs to ever know about his mom and her boyfriend. “Yeah, well, I’d trade a hot tub for living with you two any day.”
That earns me an epic eye-roll from the kid. “That was cringe.” But I see his smile when he turns his head and reaches out for a box himself. It takes him a minute to get his grip, and I watch carefully to observe how he adjusts with his prosthesis. The microchip, which is currently being called SwingSync, is in testing phase. And Charlie is the number one test subject.
“How’d that feel?” I ask once he has the box in his arms.
“Pretty good. The vibration is strong enough, but sometimes it’s hard to remember which way to adjust.”
I nod. “That’ll come with time, it was the same for me with GaitSync. It took a while to figure out how to actually respond to the cues it was giving me.”
Together we walk out of my penthouse, and take the elevator down to the loading bay where the moving truck waits. Neither one of us wanted to wait so long to move in, but Isla rightfully pointed out that we both had a lot going on, between my work on BatIQ, and her work with the team. Waiting until things slowed down at least a little, was smart, even if I was basically living at their house, spending every single night there, and with most of my clothes moved over the last few months.
But today’s the day. My penthouse sold quickly, and after a short argument, Isla agreed to let me put a chunk of the profit towards the mortgage on her house – our house. The rest went into a savings account for Charlie for the future. That decision, I didn’t let her even try to argue with me about.
When we get to the loading bay, she’s standing there talking to Juniper. “You realize there’s a lot more boxes to bring down,” I call out teasingly, then set my box down carefully. “I mean, making the two guys with missing limbs do all the heavy lifting? Kind of unfair if you ask me.”
“Yeah,” Charlie says, carefully folding his prosthesis over his other arm in front of his chest.
But Isla’s used to our shenanigans and just raises an eyebrow. “That’s funny, I’m pretty sure I raised my kid to believe he can do anything, no matter how many arms he has.” She turns to me. “And you, I know you are plenty capable of carrying a box or two.”
I chuckle, and slap Charlie’s shoulder. “She’s got us there, bud.”
Isla shakes her head and walks over, patting my cheek. “But if it’s too much work for you, Juni and I can take care of the rest of it.” Her smirk has me shaking my head with a mock glare.
“Nah, I wouldn’t want you to break a nail.”
Teasing aside, we make quick work of loading the last of the boxes. The only furniture I’m bringing is my king sized bed, to replace Isla’s much older and smaller one. The rest I donated to charity.
Back at the house, unloading the truck goes just as fast. And then it’s done. I’m moved in. No longer a bachelor, resigned to being alone.
“Any second thoughts?” Isla’s arms wrap around my waist as I look out the kitchen window, at Charlie, who’s back in front of his batting tee, like he is most evenings.
“Nope. How about you, are you regretting losing half your closet space?” I turn in her arms and cup her face in my hands. “We could’ve bought somewhere bigger, you know.”
Her amused smile is so fucking cute, I kiss the tip of her nose.
“Is the grumpy old millionaire disappointed at the idea of living in such a small house?” she teases, and I reach down to swat her ass.
“I mean, it’s no penthouse, but it’ll do.”
She giggles, then rests her cheek against my chest. “I’m really happy, Luca.”
“Me too.” And I am. Happier than I ever thought I could feel.
Later that night, the house is quiet, except for the faint sounds of Isla moving around the bedroom, getting ready for bed. I walk through the house, making sure the back door is locked and turning off lights. I pause in the living room, looking out through the gauze curtains that cover the big window. I’ve spent my adult life looking out of high-rise windows, at more high-rises. And now, the view out my window is a tree-lined residential street. Where kids can ride bikes and play street hockey, with a front lawn I’ll have to mow in the summer, and a driveway I’ll have to shovel snow from in the winter.
When I turn around, all I see is evidence of the family that lives here. The family of two, who have opened their hearts to me, and is now three.
This is home. Not the house, or the lawn, or the driveway, but her.
Them.
Us.
THE END
