Page 99 of A is for Aftercare

“We can’t give notice until we’ve got somewhere else.”

“I can go to the estate agents tomorrow,” Blake says. “Or whenever if you need more time to decide what to do.”

“That would be great,” Corey says. “Thanks.”

“The sooner we all start looking, the sooner we’ll find somewhere perfect, right?”

Corey nods, his expression tight.

“If finding somewhere new is going to be a problem—” I begin.

“It won’t be,” Corey cuts in. “Don’t worry about us. You need to do what’s right for you.” He looks me in the eyes. “Is moving in with Hamish the right thing for you?”

My heart leaps at the thought. “Yes. I think it is.”

“Then go for it. I’m really glad you’ve found someone who makes you so happy.”

“He does,” I whisper. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

“That’s great.”

I guess there’s nothing more to say. They’ve both been more understanding than I could have hoped for, and they helped me to sort through my thoughts.

“Do you know what we haven’t done in ages?” Blake says.

Corey and I both stare at him.

“We haven't just hung out together. Do you want to play a video game or something?”

"They're all two-player," Corey says.

“So?” Blake stands, turns the console on, and grabs the controllers. “Two of us can play, and then the loser switches out each time.”

Corey frowns. “What game?”

“There’s a racing game in.”

“That means you’ll never switch out.”

Blake laughs. “I’m not that good.”

"Yes, you are," I say. "But I'm up for it. I'll grab us some beers from the fridge."

Blake sits on the sofa and hands Corey the other remote. I pause on my way to the kitchen, looking back at them. I know they're going to be okay without me, but the thought of leaving them behind is still a little weird. As Blake said, they'll only ever be a call, text, or visit away.

* * *

There’s no sign of Hamish when I arrive at the water tower just before nine, so I assume he’s already in his office, getting some words in. Even though I’m buzzing to see him, I go about my morning as usual. I take my coat off and hang it up, make sure my shirt is tucked in and my tie is neat, and go to the kitchen to make Hamish coffee. Except the scent of roasted coffee beans already fills the kitchen, and Hamish is sitting on a bench at the table, drinking from his favourite mug.

“Morning, Sir,” I say. “I’m not late, am I?”

“You’re never late, Archieosaurus.”

I dip my chin as I giggle softly. I should have got used to the ridiculous pet name by now, but I haven’t. I’m not sure there will ever be a time when it doesn’t make me giggle, although I’m prepared to prove myself wrong in the future.

The future.

My breath catches in my throat, and my heart quivers. Hamish and I are going to have a future together, hopefully, a long one.