Page 27 of The Road Back Home

I stare down into my coffee with my chin resting on one palm.

To my right, Ashton stuffs bite-sized chunks of pancake into his mouth, while Holden sits to my left, deep in conversation with John.

I don’t remember what they’re talking about—my mind is too far into my own thoughts to take in any other topics.

Christmas had been such a pleasant day. The others had left after lunch, leaving me with Holden and Ashton and hours of contentedness.

A domesticity I never thought I’d need. I enjoyed watching my nephew and my boyfriend playing together, reading and watching TV and running around in the light snowfall.

Holden hadn’t complained about all the time he gave to Ashton, and I could barely bite back the tears of gratitude.

I’d apologized, once Ashton went down for the night, for not having an answer. I know Holden deserves to know whether I’ll move in or not, but no decision has come easily to mind. Holden only pulled me close on the couch, kissed my forehead, and told me not to apologize.

“It’s a big decision to make,” he said. “But for what it’s worth? I think Ashton is fine being here, even though it’s a new place. And I doubt it’s just because he’s a resilient child. I think it’s because you made him feel safe and secure enough that he isn’t afraid.”

“He loves it here. He loves being around you.”

“I love being around him, too. And you. But Dealla, if you really don’t want to move in, tell me, and I’ll drop it forever. I won’t be angry. We can figure something else out. But I’d really love it if you think it over instead of just saying ‘no’ because you’re scared of fucking Ashton up.”

And how he had hit the nail on the head. Change is hard enough for her, but adding in a child around whom my life has revolved? There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep Ashton happy, safe, as well-adjusted as possible.

I promised—swore—to think about it more.

I knew then, and still know now, what I would choose if I didn’t have a toddler to think of. I wouldn’t hesitate to leave Austin behind. I’d pack up, say a painful goodbye to my friends, and transplant myself to Franklin so it became home.

Would it be so devastating to Ashton if that was what I chose?

Now it’s been a week, and I haven’t been able to stop dwelling on the offer.

Of the possibilities. I’d called Luci and Tristan yesterday, but he’d been no help—he just told me not to come back to Texas unless it’s to pack.

Luci, thankfully, spent half an hour on the phone with me, and with our brainpower combined, we came up with a pros and cons list.

The pro column is at least twice as long as the con.

I get dragged from my thoughts by Evelyn clapping her hands and announcing it’s time to ready the house.

I stifle a snort of amusement; it’s barely ten o’clock in the morning.

The ‘New Year’s soiree’, as Evelyn calls it, isn’t for another eight hours.

Holden catches my eye, shakes his head with a smile on his face.

He’s the first to claim dibs on keeping the toddler entertained, and I swallow back words that threaten to slip out.

What they are, I’m not sure, but I know now isn’t the time for life-altering declarations.

To my ever-growing appreciation, decorating takes away any free time to think.

Evelyn directs us all like an experienced event planner, which she is, as it turns out.

John hangs streamers while I prepare finger foods and dips and other quick snacks.

The fridge quickly fills with the hors d’oeuvres, and the kitchen smells of the barbecue sauce and meatballs in the slow-cooker.

Phil, Henry, and Samantha arrive before everyone else.

Next comes Cheryl with a promise of the others just behind.

True to her word, not even an hour later, Eddie shows up with four unfamiliar people in tow and a bag full of wine and whiskey in hand.

I help him arrange the bottles on the counter and slap his hand when he reaches for the bowl of tortilla chips.

He scowls but then grins before bounding into the other room.

Staring at Holden from across the room, listening to our friends laughing and talking, the kids screeching with delight as they run around, I allow myself to soak in the moment.

To think—really consider the offer. It’s dwelled on my mind for so long; it’s the main thought that has kept me awake many nights. And I…

I am so tired.

Tired of pretending I don’t want what Holden offers.

Tired of pretending I am perfectly content with a long-distance relationship.

Tired of pretending I’d be okay if this all fell apart.

The decision comes easily now as I sip my sparkling juice.

Someone nudges me with an elbow, and I drag my gaze away from my boyfriend. Evelyn wraps an arm around my shoulder, squeezing tightly.

“How are you enjoying the chaotic mess our friends are?”

“I love it,” I say with a quiet laugh. “I’d hate to miss this much fun. I mean, when else am I going to see Eddie and John have an ass-shaking competition? Oh, and now my boyfriend has joined in. Fantastic.”

“He’s going to hate that,” Evelyn remarks lightly as I pull my phone from my pocket to record the dancing. “Send it to me.”

She rattles off her phone number once the dancing has stopped, and I send the video before sliding my phone back into my pocket.

Winking conspiratorially at Evelyn, I slip through the crowd to refill my glass.

Holden grabs my wrist before I can pass, pulls me in for a kiss.

My free hand reaches for his beer, and I swallow a mouthful then pass the bottle back.

Another kiss before Holden releases me and falls into Eddie’s side.

They immediately launch into song, some vulgar ditty, and I can’t stop myself from laughing.

The first tantrum starts shortly after nine o’clock.

I don’t see what’s acted as the catalyst, but Phil and I rush to separate the two toddlers slapping each other.

I carry Ashton over to Holden, who sets his drink aside to take the squirming child into his arms. Ashton melts into his chest with a soft sigh.

Phil leads me upstairs; Henry fusses in his arms, but Ashton remains quiet in mine.

Once the boys are in bed, I gesture for Phil to rejoin the party.

He hesitates but quietly exits the room.

Henry whines when his father disappears, but I shush him with gentle hands.

I sit on the edge of the bed and sing softly, the lullaby that I have sung to Ashton since he was an infant.

It doesn’t take long for the children’s breathing to even out; their faces go lax in sleep, and I kiss their foreheads then leaves the room.

“They asleep now?” Cheryl asks when I drop onto the couch next to her. “Holden loves that boy.”

“That’s what everyone has said.”

“It’s easy to see why. He’s a good kid.”

I have no idea what else to say other than a murmured ‘Thanks’. Cheryl chuckles then pushes to her feet. After checking that I don’t need a drink, she saunters off to find someone else to have a conversation with. I gaze around at everyone gathered in the living room.

Holden appears in front of me as the last minutes of the year tick away.

He tugs me to my feet and kisses me with abandon amidst the protests from the others.

Evelyn’s voice is loudest, telling us to wait for the ball to drop.

Phil makes a crude joke about balls dropping, which sends everyone into uproarious laughter.

I, drunk off the kiss and not giving a damn about anything other than the heat flaring in my veins, flip them off over Holden’s shoulder and pull him closer.

Midnight strikes, kisses are shared—Eddie dips Cheryl low enough, I worry the woman will hit the floor.

Then the party winds down. Phil uses fatherhood as an excuse to go to bed, but everyone can see the dark circles under his eyes.

Evelyn and Samantha help clear up the empty bottles and cans, while I wash the few dishes left in the sink.

Holden helps by putting away any leftovers.

Once the kitchen and living room are tidied, I lace my fingers with Holden’s and guide him up the stairs.

Unfortunately, toddlers rarely sleep in, so I am roused from sleep before the sun is even up.

I’d gotten only a scant three hours of rest, having lain awake long after Holden fell asleep.

All I’d been able to do was stare at his sleeping face and hope that time would stop so I could stay in the moment forever.

Grumbling, I roll out of bed, barely landing on my feet.

Ashton’s and Henry’s small hands fit perfectly in mine, and we cross the room to ease down the stairs.

Phil already stands at the stove by the time the toddlers and I enter the kitchen. I help the boys into their chairs before stepping up beside Phil. He directs me toward the pantry, tells me to grab out the cereal on the shelves.

“All of them, or else someone’ll be cranky that their favorite isn’t on the table,” he warns.

So I set seven boxes of cereal onto the counter and grab bowls from the cupboard, spoons from the drawer.

Phil finishes plating scrambled eggs and bacon just in time: Evelyn shuffles to the table, wrapped in a fuzzy robe, and drops into a chair.

With a wan smile, she mutters a ‘morning’ that says the morning is anything but good.

Cheryl, then Eddie, then Samantha and John, and sounds come from upstairs.

I chew on my lower lip before asking if the others can keep an eye on Ashton for a moment.

Holden jumps when I appear in the doorway of his bedroom, and his lips turn down in the corners. Probably a reaction to the serious expression I wear. I press forward until he takes a step back then another. As soon as I can, I shut the door behind me and lean against the wood.

“Holden, I need you to be a hundred percent honest with me, a hundred percent sure about this.”

“About what?”

“Us moving in.”

Holden nods before I even finish speaking. His hands come up to rest on my hips, a gentle touch that brings heat to my eyes. “Of course I’m sure, Dealla. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

“Ashton… He means everything to me. He is everything to me.” Blowing out a breath, I force myself to meet his gaze. “If it turns out you can’t handle it, I need you to promise you’ll tell me immediately if this isn’t something you want anymore.”

“Dealla—”

I continue, drowning out his voice, “It’ll hurt, but I know in time, I’ll accept it was for the best. The last thing I ever want to do is force you to be with me if you’re not happy.

” I pause, look at Holden directly. A glimmer of something—hope?

—hides behind the clear gray of his eyes.

“You deserve to be with someone you love and can have a future with. If it ends up not being me… then okay. Can you promise me that? Swear you’ll tell me straight-up that you want out?

Don’t stay just because you love Ashton and are afraid of fucking him up. ”

“I swear,” he murmurs, the word nearly inaudible in the silence.

He lifts one of my hands to his lips and kisses the ridge of my knuckles.

“I swear on everything in my life that I will let you know if I ever want to break up. I mean, it’ll never happen, but on the absolute impossible chance it does, I’ll tell you. ”

“Then... Yes. Ash and I will move in.”

“Are you sure?”

“A hundred percent.”

My next words are cut off by the searing kiss Holden leaves on my lips. I bury my fingers in his hair, pull him closer, and let myself fly with the lightness that diffuses through my entire being.

His hands wrap around my waist, and I stumble when he moves me aside. He takes a second to steady me, but then he’s gone, barreling down the stairs. Giggling to myself, I follow.

“She said yes to moving in!” he shouts as he skids into the dining room on socked feet.

Despite the various levels of hungover, everyone bursts into cheering and clapping. I shake my head and cross the room to crouch beside Ashton.

“Hey, buddy, wanna live here with Holden?”

“’Den!”

“I think that’s a yes,” Phil says, and Holden pulls Ashton out of his chair. As he spins the toddler in circles, making Ashton screech, Phil nudges me with his shoulder. “You’ve just made his entire year.”

I stare at my boyfriend, at the brilliant smile that splits his face as he listens to Ashton babbling. The light in his eyes that could illuminate the whole world if I could just harness it.

“Yeah,” I murmur. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”