Page 5 of The Last Person (Baker Girls #5)

Flipping through, I find one of my favorites—and the one I haven’t been able to stop thinking of today.

Lonely Nights

I once reveled in lonely nights

My form of peace and solace

And then bursting like a ray of sunshine through a storm cloud

You shone light on my dim world

And showed me lonely nights were better shared

I hope my nights will feel even less lonely living with him—instead of lonelier each night in my bed knowing how close he is and yet far away.

Dropping into my favorite oversized chair, I pull out my phone and send a text to the person I can always talk to about this.

Me: I might’ve done something dumb.

Definitely not my mom. She already thinks that Hardy and I are in some sort of relationship and I’m hiding it from her.

Even though she knows I’m bi, so why would I?

And while I love my little sister, and she’s always there for me, she’s twenty-two and her only experience with relationships is limited to how fungi and amoebas relate to each other.

I love that for her, but it means her advice, or even understanding of my feelings in this area, isn’t super helpful.

No, it’s my chosen little sister who calls back rather than sending a text.

I smile as Hallie Baker flashes across my phone screen.

“Hello.”

“You texted at the perfect time. I just sat down with my snack and some decaf coffee. Tell me all about your stupidity.”

“I said might have.”

“Which means you definitely did. You’re aware enough to know your own truth.”

“I’m moving in with Hardy.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a beat, and when she finally speaks, all she says is, “Why?”

I relay the whole story—surprised Mark didn’t tell Frannie, who would’ve then told Hallie, and probably the whole rest of the group because secrets don’t exist in the Baker Girls tribe.

“So, how dumb do you think I am?”

“That depends on your reasoning for doing it.”

“I love the space. It’s gorgeous. It’s so massive I can’t imagine living there alone, but if I’d been the one to look at it as a space just for me, I might not have taken it because of how big it is.

But with Hardy to share that space, it’ll feel smaller.

And he loved it—just tell me… am I crazy?

Is this going to destroy my friendship with him? ”

“I’m only going to answer that if you listen to me this time.”

I squint like she can see me. “Since when do I not listen to you?”

“Since I keep telling you how much you matter to Hardy, and that he’d rather throw himself in front of a moving bus than let anything hurt you or your friendship, but you never believe me.”

“A moving bus? That would end his football career.”

“Thank you for making my point for me. You’re an idiot, but not for moving in with him. For hiding your feelings and lying to yourself.”

“Ouch.”

“I love you, but we don’t pull punches with each other. I’ve always got your back, but you’re going to hurt your own feelings one of these days.”

“And you won’t be there to pick up the pieces?”

“Of course I will, but no one deserves that. You encouraged me to let love in. Why don’t you give yourself the same chance?”

“Because it’s a lot scarier when I’m the one doing it.”

She bursts out laughing. “So your wisdom is only applicable if you don’t have to bear the consequences?”

“Obviously. Plus, it’s so much easier to see someone else’s life objectively than it is to see your own that way.”

“Don’t I know it. Look, it doesn’t matter what I see or think.

It doesn’t even matter if you think it’s crazy.

You know what everyone kept asking me when I moved up here?

If I was happy. It was chaotic and confusing and a bit of a dumpster fire at times, but even in the midst of it all, I was happy.

The only question that matters is are you happy?

And I don’t mean happiness as a fleeting emotion, but a real contentedness with where you are right now—the path you’re on. ”

That gives me pause.

“When did you become the wise one?”

“It magically happened when I got knocked up by a one-night stand.”

We both laugh. “I miss you, but I’m glad you’ve finally found your happiness.”

“You deserve to have that happiness too.”

“Fish tacos, fish-fish-fish tacos. Fish tacos. Who loves fish tacos? Fish tacos. I love fish tacos.”

I laugh as Hardy sings his way through my front door and across the living room.

“They’re almost ready,” I say as he gets to the kitchen counter.

“Ooh, yarn. Starting a new project?”

I spin around to where skeins of yarn are splayed out on the island.

“Yeah. I found a blanket pattern, and I thought I’d make a few for the new apartment. Pick a few colors—not team colors. I’ll make one of those for the living room.”

He looks through the colors as I take the pan with the fish in it off the burner and get out the rest of the ingredients.

As I close the refrigerator, I glance at the counter and see Hardy has picked out graphite, bronze, maroon, and deep purple yarns.

Not surprising. Those are colors he usually favors, which is why I have them.

I love the maroon as well, but the rest were for him.

I get to making the tacos, adding the fish, lettuce, and mango-habanero salsa.

“How did the kids take the news?”

I look over my shoulder at the plants as Hardy approaches them.

“Greta was giving me the cold shoulder, but she’ll get over it when she sees the light at the new place.”

Hardy gently touches my Pothos. “Baby girl, why do you have to be like that? Daddy’s doing the best he can, and I promise this new place will be even better.”

I look back at the counter, smiling to myself.

Hallie asked if I was happy.

I can get lost in my own head, be too introspective, and lean into being maudlin, but as a whole, my heart is happy.

And when I think about living with Hardy, all I see is more moments like this.

Maybe it’s for all the wrong reasons, and I’ll end up hurting in the long run, but this is my happy place.

My plants, a sense of home, good food, and my best friend.

How could I not be happy to have even more of this?