Page 47 of Love at First Sighting

El

I haven’t seen Carter in a suit in six weeks.

Instead, I see him in a lot of sweatpants, cozy hoodies, plaid pajama pants, and worn band T-shirts. I’m learning I like him in shades of blue that bring out his eyes the most, but I’m discovering every new look has its own thrills to it.

In some ways, it feels like falling in love with a completely new person each time.

But I know better…

He’s still the same person, but I like how I can fall for him over and over again.

I learn that in curious ways. The last few weeks have been busier but also quieter than any time in my life.

After a few days in the hospital, he was able to leave and start recovering at home.

When we arrived at his apartment, Leonard asked zero questions about where we’d been and why we were all bandaged up.

He nodded and shut his door, then the sounds of battling orcs and dragons or whatever echoed from his room again.

We trust and love and respect Leonard for that.

Since we’ve been homebound for a while, we’ve gotten used to cohabitation.

At first, it was mostly him sleeping through a haze of pain meds and taking it easy.

Then, once he had more energy and was able to start moving around on his own, it looked like cooking together, snuggling on the couch to watch TV (I have gotten him to watch all of Angel City Noir with me), and learning that Carter likes to wake up with the sun and spends his mornings practicing his photography.

That time offered us a lot of chances to plan out the rest of our lives together.

We decided quickly the best option would be to get an apartment together—move out of Leonard’s second bedroom.

We have appointments for apartment tours next weekend and a decent budget between my sponsorship deals and Carter’s astonishing payout from the government for his “troubles.” We all know it’s hush money, but Carter is keen to keep his mouth shut and move on.

Even with all that free time, I didn’t post or plan content or worry about what people thought of my absence.

I didn’t even post on Halloween. In prior years, it was a full masquerade of several costumes for different functions.

My costume this year was yoga pants (not Spinx) and one of Carter’s cozy Dodgers hoodies.

I spent time by his side, taking warm naps and waiting to take care of whatever he needed from me.

It’s how I learn there might not be anything wrong with giving and taking from people.

I can give him care and affection when he needs it, because he’ll give it right back.

He can ask me for help, and I don’t think of what he needs to do in return.

He gets what he wants out of me and gives something back.

It doesn’t feel like a favor or a game. It feels like love.

We might not be the strongest at solving mysteries or taking down bad guys, but I don’t think we’re going to be bad at loving each other.

The surprisingly bitter November air bites at my cheeks as I stare at rows and rows of headstones.

It was a no-brainer Carter and I would be coming to pay them a visit today, on the anniversary of his dad’s death.

We’ll plan to pay another visit in the spring for his mother.

I give him a few minutes alone before joining him.

I sit beside him, cross-legged with knees bumping. It’s been more important than ever to remind him he’s not alone. My hand drapes over the inside of his leg, and our fingers weave together.

“You good?” I ask.

He freezes, like he doesn’t know the answer. Grief hits him in small pangs, but he’s been good at reminding himself that for the first time in fifteen years, the only person who can decide his happiness is him. And I can help. He nods slowly. “I will be.”

“You fill them in on the fact that Marcus is a grade-A dick?”

He gives a sad smile. “Yeah, I did.”

“Good.”

My lawyer handled settling our charges out of court—fines for destruction of property, a few moving violations from our car chase.

But for the trespassing charges, we had some leverage to play with.

There was enough fully spelled out in the backup file that we hardly had to be involved in Marcus’s sentencing—months of John Brody’s diligent snooping and his suspicions that something could happen to him.

I don’t know if Carter would have had it in him to look at Marcus again—whether he felt rage or remorse—but neither of us was sad to skip the trial.

We slept easy knowing it’s not likely Marcus will ever see anything outside his prison cell again.

Terra’s litigation for their involvement, meanwhile, is being broadcast and roasted on every news station.

“And about you,” Carter continues.

“Me?” I tease. “Oh, do tell.”

He pauses, brows raised, with a small laugh. “I don’t know, maybe I didn’t have anything that nice to say. There’s this girl I know who follows me around everywhere, and I think she’s watching me right now—”

“Yeah, okay, says the guy who literally followed me all over LA.”

“It was one time.” He looks down at our clasped hands and brushes his thumb along the back of mine.

“In your stalker era.”

“It was government mandated,” he says. “No, I told them I couldn’t have figured any of it out without this girl who is so good at causing problems on purpose. And that I love you a lot, and how I think after all this, I’m going to be okay because I have you.”

“You would have been okay even without me,” I assure him. “But I’m glad we don’t have to find out what that’s like.”

“My dad would have liked you. I think my mom, too.”

“And I’m sure they both would have been proud of you.”

At this, the tears return to his eyes, icy blue coated in a sheen of sunlight.

I know he’s tired of mourning and hurting, and tired of asking me to be his shoulder to cry on while he processes all of this, but I don’t mind.

Day by day, he asks for less, smiles more, and makes plans for where we go next.

We talk about neighborhoods we like, what kind of apartment we want to rent, but we don’t get too serious—we’ve got a trip to plan.

“I hope so.”

“They would. You never stopped looking for answers and never gave up. Anyone would be proud of how hard you worked to make things right.” I wipe away his tears.

I haven’t had to take care of anyone in a long time, but I’m learning how Carter likes to be cared for.

I think in some ways he’s learning, too.

He’s big on snuggling, like he always wants to keep me close, like I’ll drift away if he doesn’t.

He hates being babied, so I let him do more things on his own now that he’s on his feet again. “Can I say something?”

“To them?”

I nod.

“Knock yourself out.”

I grab his hand again and lean my head on his shoulder.

I glance at his parents’ twin headstones and read over the epitaphs.

“John, Emily…I’m El, short for Ariel. I’m really sad we never got to meet, but I feel like I already know you in a lot of ways.

I hear all about you from Carter and I have to imagine you were pretty great if your kid turned out as amazing as he is.

“I know he did a lot of it himself, and god knows Marcus didn’t leave a positive impression on him, but I think there’s some credit due to you two as well.

He’s fantastic, and sometimes I think he doesn’t even know it.

He’s smart and sweet and incredibly brave.

It’s the first time in my life I feel seen, and the first time I think someone cares about every part of me.

Not just the ones that look good. Not just the ones that help them.

“So thank you for making him—”

“Ew,” Carter grimaces.

If he weren’t still recovering, I’d knock him over. “I was trying to say ‘making him great,’ you gross child.”

“Oh…”

“And thank you to the aliens for making our paths cross.”

He laughs under his breath. “There were no aliens.”

I grow quiet. “There were absolutely aliens. I saw them. In the archive. There are aliens, Carter.”

“You need to keep your voice down,” he whispers.

“Oh, come on. No one’s going to believe me. And no one’s going to believe me when I tell them I met you when I saw a UFO and the government sent a hot Man in Black after me.”

Carter purses his lips. “Yeah, we’re going to need to discuss our cover story.”

I give Carter’s hand a squeeze and turn back to the matching headstones. “All this to say, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of him.”

He leans over and presses a kiss to the side of my head with a sniffle before pulling away.

He reaches into his jacket pocket and grabs his badge and his keys (to a car he’s selling for parts).

For now, we’re using my car, which is freshly out of the shop.

He digs a small hole in the cold dirt in front of his dad’s headstone, large enough for his badge to fit in.

It glimmers in the sun before he places it down in the hole, along with the folded piece of paper he found inside his hat.

“You sure you don’t want to keep the badge? What if you get pulled over or something? No more get-out-of-jail-free card for you?”

“No,” he breathes. “I think I’m better off leaving this in the past. I don’t want to hang on to it anymore.”

But he hesitates, like he’s not sure if he wants to take the next step away from the life he’s always known.

We’re both doing it, and it scares both of us, but neither of us is doing it alone.

Carter pushes the dirt back over the shallow grave for his badge and pats it down to a smooth surface.

He wipes his hands on his jeans and kneels in front of me.

I clasp his dirty hands and don’t mind the mess.

“With that behind us,” I start, “where to next?”

[Instagram post by @elohelmartin, dated two hours ago. 230K likes, 800 comments.]

[Photo of a young white woman with brown hair, wearing dark jeans and a blush-pink sweater, leaning on the shoulder of a young white man with blond hair in jeans and a leather jacket, both smiling and looking down at a camera’s display, standing in front of Big Ben.]

Hard launch for the new brand and new boy!

I’m back and in London for the first leg of what we hope to be a long jaunt around the globe.

I’m so grateful to those of you who have stuck around these past few months as I reevaluated my content and my life.

Moving forward, I think this page will be a mix of a lot of things, from our travel adventures to real life, and fear not, I will still keep hitting you all with the best food, products, and finds along the way.

Just know every single thing I share is going to be coming from me and coming from the heart.

Life’s too short to live as someone I’m not.

And don’t worry, I won’t pick up an accent while I’m here.

It’s safe to say this is the happiest I’ve ever been, and it’s totally got nothing to do with this handsome guy next to me. Please give a warm welcome to @cbrodyphotos—boyfriend and photographer extraordinaire. There’s no one I’d rather see the world and spend my life with.

Anyway, you’ll be seeing lots of him around here, and he’s new at this, so give him a follow.

Photo credit goes to the random woman on the street who said she didn’t want to be tagged, but thanks!

#TravelCouple #TravelGoals #HappyCouple #NotSponCon #London #British #FishAndChips

@Cbrodyphotos: Awww my eyes aren’t even open in this one :/

@Elohelmartin: @cbrodyphotos