Page 68 of Forever Then

Chapter Fifty-Two

FOREVER AND THEN SOME

Gretchen

“You need a building with a doorman,” Drew demands.

“Doormen come with a price tag,” I retort, phone to my ear. Not even a thousand miles distance can keep my brother from his meddling tendencies. I roll my pointed eyes at Connor who snickers at the one-sided conversation he’s privy to. He pulls me against him and plants a kiss on my forehead.

“Small price to pay for your safety, Gretch,” my brother adds.

“I’m safe, Drew.”

“A young woman living alone in New York City is not safe.” There’s a scuffle over the line. “Ow, shit! Babe, that hurt.”

Reagan coming in clutch, as always.

“Okay, first of all, I hope there’s blood. Second of all, I told you I’ll probably end up living in Jersey.”

“Potato, puh-tah-to,” he singsongs, brushing me off. “You also need to live close to public transit.”

“Oh, so the subway is safe now,” I reply, sarcasm thick.

“Lesser of two evils, Gretch. I’d rather you be on the subway or a bus instead of walking the streets alo—you know what, put your boyfriend on the phone!”

I snort and hand the phone to Connor. “The helicopter wants to talk to you.”

Noting the buildings that flank either side of the Greenwich Village street, I scan the awnings for the number we’re looking for.

A necessary distraction from the fact that it’s almost five and I still haven’t heard about the job.

The interview committee said they would get back with all the applicants before the end of the day.

The late-afternoon sun drops behind the multi-leveled structures, casting shadows on the sidewalks below, and the flurry of people on their commute home from their offices creates a hum of weekend-expectant energy buzzing through the streets.

Brick exteriors rise four—some five and six—stories high in this neighborhood, with metal terraces cascading up to the rooftops and fire escape ladders that connect them all one to the other.

Connor insisted I look at apartment options in Manhattan for comparison so I mapped out a few for us to tour today. There are some affordable options that I could make work here and the commute to Saks would be a breeze, but I already know I’ll get so much more apartment for my money in Jersey.

He’ll see the same value when we go there tomorrow. I know he will.

“I know,” Connor says. What my brother has him agreeing to, I have no idea.

“Yeah, I know…uh huh…okay.” He flashes his signature smile at me, all charm and affection, that says in equal parts can you believe this guy?

and how can you not love him? A smile that beams even brighter now that Drew has come to terms with our relationship.

I bring us to a halt outside our last stop of the day with a hand to Connor’s forearm. “I hear ya,” he says into the phone.

Done with this nonsense, I yank the phone from his hand and take matters into my own hands. “Ok, got it, all good here, time to cut the cord, loveyoubye.”

The third-floor apartment is decent enough. When the landlord steps into the hall to take a phone call, Connor smoothly asks what I think. He huffs a laugh at my noncommittal shrug. Three Manhattan apartment tours in and I’ve given the same response every time.

Apartment hunting in New York is a game of weighing price against location against square footage against amenities against storage against commute.

When you’re on a tight budget, there’s unlikely to be one place that checks all your boxes and apartments get swooped up in the blink of an eye.

There’s no “let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.

” It’s cutthroat and competitive and you have to be ready to say yes when you come across a place that works.

“Do you like this one?” I ask. “You’ll have to look for your own place soon, too, you know.”

He hums thoughtfully but doesn’t answer.

After I politely pass on the apartment, Connor and I start the trek back to the hotel. Hand in hand on a bustling sidewalk in midtown, we’re only a few blocks out when my phone rings.

Butterflies take flight in my stomach. I almost drop the phone as I yank it from my back pocket in a panic, but Connor steadies me. “You got this.”

I could get lost in the pure confidence and love in his eyes. This man has always been my biggest cheerleader. No matter what news I get, I know he’ll wrap me in a hug, kiss me senseless and tell me he’s proud of me.

“Hello?” I say.

For the next sixty seconds, I listen to the woman on the other end of the line. I offer the occasional affirmative response, but my gaze holds on Connor.

He grins.

I bite my lip.

His eyebrows soar.

I smile.

He smiles bigger.

I nod.

He throws a fist in the air then dips down to meet my eye and mouths, “I told you.”

The next morning, I show Connor the joys of the hallmark New Yorker breakfast: a lox and cream cheese bagel on the go. We split the monstrosity between us wrapped in brown paper, passing it back and forth on our way to the subway station.

With the hotel only a couple of blocks from Saks, this is the perfect opportunity for us to get a sense of the exact commute I’ll have to make when I start work in a couple of weeks.

Executive Assistant to the buyer for the shoe department at Saks Fifth Avenue. Wild.

We take the ten-minute ride to the stop at 33rd where we get off and switch to the Jersey bound PATH train. When we arrive at the station in Hoboken twenty minutes later, it’s another ten minutes by foot to the area where we’ve scheduled tours in three different apartment complexes.

“See. It isn’t so bad,” I say as we step onto the sidewalk in Hoboken.

“Forty minutes is not a short commute,” he chuckles.

“Maybe so, but it is easy.” That wicked side eye teases me. “Just wait until you see the apartments.”

We tour the first two complexes and I could easily say yes to at least one of the units I see.

It’s risky to keep looking, but the last building is the one I’m most excited about.

And if Connor’s increasing interest is any indication, I think these accommodation options this side of the Hudson might win him over after all.

Here, there’s space to breathe, windows with views of the Manhattan skyline, washers and dryers inside the apartment, and the city’s only a train ride away.

The best part? When the sun goes down and the skyscrapers across the river come to life with light reflecting off the water, New Jersey is quieter, calmer.

I prefer to slow down and embrace the stillness at the end of my day and it feels like I can find that here.

After a quick lunch stop, we head to the final complex.

The first apartment is a bust; first floor unit and no view. But the second apartment is perfect .

Up on the fourth floor—accessible by elevator, thank God—it has a small terrace that overlooks the complex courtyard below and it’s close enough to the river-facing end of the building that I have a partial view of the Manhattan skyline.

It’s a studio, but there’s enough square footage to create a separate living and sleeping space.

And the bathroom has a vanity style sink with counter space and storage.

“I think this one will go quickly. We contracted another lease for this exact unit on the opposite side this morning,” the leasing manager says as I scan the crown moldings on the ten-foot ceilings and the hardwood floors that look brand-new.

I give Connor a hesitant smile and his mirrored expression tells me he knows what I’m about to say. “I’ll take?—”

“You said you had some one-bedroom units available?” Connor speaks over me, directly to the agent and I spin to glare at him, but he avoids my dagger-hurling eyeballs entirely.

“We do. A couple floors up we have a corner unit. It’s beautiful. Would you like to see it?”

Quickly, I sputter, “No, I don’t thi—” Connor covers my mouth with his hand. I flare my eyes at him but he ignores that, too.

“Yes, that’d be great. Thanks,” Connor answers.

Hot on the agent’s heels, I’m tempted to elbow Connor in the ribs, but I refrain. The one-bedroom units in this building would overextend me financially. I know I’ll love this gargantuan, river-facing apartment with the unobstructed view and end up disappointed that I can’t afford it.

Connor leans down as we step off the elevator to trail the agent down the hall. “Relax, Fish. We’re just looking.”

I tug him by the arm and whisper back, “These units are fifteen hundred dollars more per month, Connor. I can’t afford it.”

He winks and pins me with a smile that could melt metal. Next thing I know, he ushers me inside the most perfect apartment to ever exist.

As expected, it’s spectacular.

All open concept, the kitchen has a small island with countertop seating that separates it from the living space.

A small space off to the right is perfect for a small dining table.

But it’s the bedroom that has my jaw on the floor.

It’s not over-sized, but big enough for a king-sized bed, two nightstands on either side and maybe a dresser along the far wall.

Two closets. I repeat: two closets.

The bathroom, twice the size as the studio unit downstairs, has a second access door that opens to the living room.

And the view— my God . The sliding glass door off the kitchen leads to a balcony big enough for a small patio set. The sweeping Manhattan skyline looks more like the work of an artist on a panoramic canvas than something you could actually experience in real life.

“Wow,” I breathe…to nobody, apparently, because when I turn, Connor’s not there. Rather, he’s back inside in what looks to be a serious conversation with the agent.

I step back inside as the agent says, “I’ll give you two a minute.” Then she’s out the door into the hallway.

Connor’s giddy expression, while full of all his usual endearing magnetism, lacks a single foothold in my reality. His stubborn ass knows exactly what I’m thinking which is why he hikes his eyebrows three times. I can’t help but laugh and drop my face to my hands. “Connor!”

“Pretty great, right?”

“Of course it is.” The view beyond the balcony beckons my attention yet again. “It’s amazing, but I can’t afford it.”

His face turns serious as he pushes a hand inside his pocket. “I have a proposal for you to consider.”

He holds out his other hand to urge me closer and I panic. “I swear to God, Connor, if this proposal involves a velvet box, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Propose? Psssh,” he scoffs. “I barely know you, woman.” An arrogant smirk curls his lips because we both know that’s a lie—he knows me better than anyone else.

Crisis averted, though, on the velvet box. He’s just a man with his hand in his pocket .

“I’d prefer to date a woman more than seventeen seconds before I ask her to marry me.”

“Glad we’re on the same page, old man.”

“Good. Now, my proposal.”

I raise a hand. “Unless you’re about to tell me that I won the lottery, there’s absolutely no way I can afford this apartment.”

“I know you can’t,” he says, eyes soft on mine with a sparkle of anticipation that has my heart rate barreling. “But we could.”

I blink once, twice, twelve times.

“Together, Fish, we can afford this apartment.”

“You want to live together?”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I do, but only if you want that, too.”

“But we’ve only been dating for seventeen seconds.”

He laughs. “Yes, and somehow I still know you better than you know yourself.”

He steps closer. I should say something, but the analysis paralysis has me in its firm grip.

“Like right now, you’re wondering if it’s too fast.”

Accurate.

“And to that, I’d say, I’ve loved you for so long that the idea of building a home with you feels more like it’s about damn time .”

He kisses me.

“You’ve also never lived on your own and you’re wondering if that’s something you should do first.”

Accurate.

“And I’d tell you that I would never take that experience away from you if that’s what you want.

I’ll get my own place across the hall, downstairs, two blocks over, doesn’t matter to me.

But full disclosure, I spent four nights apart from you this week and hated every single one, so if we’re not living together, you better be prepared for a lot of sleepovers. ”

I grin as his lips sweep mine in a chaste kiss.

“And,” he continues, “you’re scared about what would happen if we break up.”

I hate that this intrusive thought exists at all. I can shout from the rooftops that I love him, that he’s the only man I want, that I choose him for better or worse, but life isn’t a fairytale. Even the best laid plans, laid out by the most well-intentioned people, can fail.

“In case I haven’t been clear,” he says, “all the big future plans that couples are supposed to make, I want all of that with you. It may be too soon to propose marriage, but I do plan to marry you one day. And have babies with you. And adopt babies with you. And all the in-between days, however mundane or exciting they may be, I only want them with you. Even the hardest days, Gretch.” He clasps our hands and swings them loosely in the space between our hips.

“But if that’s not the future that you see for us, I’m gonna need you to tell me now. ”

Like a machete against tissue paper, my worries are thin and defenseless against the strength of my feelings for him.

I hate not falling asleep next to him.

I want to call him my husband someday.

I want a life with him, full to the brim with love, laughter and babies.

I ease forward a step, swallowing the last few inches between us. “So, you’re thinking forever then?”

He smiles. “I want forever with you now like I wanted forever with you then . Forever and then some.”

“People are gonna think we’re moving too fast.”

“I’m done caring what other people think. I only care what you think.”

I squint and twist my lips to the side, the air of a woman in deep consideration. The corner of his mouth lifts as he kisses my knuckles, eyes pure smolder. Manipulation by flirtation. I’ll allow it.

“We need to revisit the terms of our thermostat agreement.” Stepping back, I clasp my hands behind me and paste on my best negotiation face.

Connor crosses his arms and widens his stance. “Proceed.”

I fight a smile. “You’re not gonna like it.”

“Try me,” he says with a mischievous wink.

“I want full control of the temperat?—”

“Done. ”

Our smiles are embarrassingly goofy as I launch myself against his chest and throw my arms around his neck.

“Is that a yes?” he laughs.

The agent raps her knuckles on the front door on her way back inside. “Checking in. Did either of you have any questions?”

I plant a loud kiss on his lips before spinning on the agent. “We’ll take it.”