Page 28 of The Road Back Home

Luci tugs Ashton out of my arms the instant she’s able to, and I huff but turn to hug Tristan tightly. He allows it for a moment then pushes me away gently. I know what he is going to say before he even opens his mouth.

“I thought I told you not to think of coming back if it ain’t to pack your shit and go.”

“You are the worst friend I’ve ever had, did you know that?” I lean into his side, wrap my arm around his lower back, and lead the group toward baggage claim. “How was your holiday?”

Tristan sighs, scrubs a hand over his face. “You had the right idea of not visiting family. Dad asked if I got a real job yet, Mom demanded that I bring home a girl next time I visit, and Mimi? Well, she decided to get drunk and do a jig in her delicates. Again.”

“Oh, Tris, that sounds awful. Anything good happen at all?”

“I got a new pair of socks!” he announces with false cheer. With a sigh, he relaxes his expression of forced levity. “Honestly, your call on Christmas was the only highlight of the last week of my life.”

“I’m glad I could make it better in some small way. How about yours, Luci?”

As Luci talks about her Christmas with her family (“Abuelita is lucky she hosts, or we’d never all be together”), I grab my luggage from the conveyor belt and turn toward the exit.

Tristan presses in closer to me; his face is set in a deep scowl when I glance up at him, and I follow his gaze to see a young woman taking pictures. I pretend not to notice.

I was warned by everyone—Holden, Phil, Evelyn, even Cheryl had warned me this would happen.

They’d all said their friendship with Holden is under the microscope at all times.

And one picture of Holden and me in a grocery store, and now everyone knows of my connection with the country singer.

I’m just thankful that the photograph hadn’t shown Ashton.

But now… Now I don’t know if the woman got a picture of my nephew.

Luci tugs Ashton’s hood farther over his head, keeps his face turned toward her, and I could melt with the gratitude.

Thankfully, we manage to get out of the airport and to my apartment with no further incidents.

“Want any help unpacking?” Tristan asks as we approach the door to her apartment.

I shake my head and slide the key into the lock. “Nah, but I will probably need help packing.”

I twist the key, push open the door, and step inside only to realize I’m the only one who does.

Turning back to my friends, I flash an innocent smile at their confused expressions.

Luci and Tristan exchange a look, then the dam breaks.

Their voices overlap, question after question being hurled in my direction.

I giggle as Tristan promises to be right back; he leaves the luggage in the corridor before speed-walking away.

Luci sets Ashton on the floor and automatically barrels into the bedroom.

The dresser drawers scrape on their tracks, and I roll my eyes with a smile as I remove Ashton’s coat.

Shooing him toward the toys, I enter my room in time for Luci to upend a drawer.

A few shirts spill out onto the bed to join the socks and underwear already there.

I check over my shoulder that Ashton is adequately distracted by his playthings then move farther into the room. Luci disappears into the closet.

“So, I’m assuming he has a bed, considering he’s a grown-ass adult, so furniture can all stay here. Tris and I will worry about putting it in storage or something.” Luci pokes her head out from the closet, frowning. “Do you not have more suitcases?”

“Nope, I only have the two.”

“Okay, we’ll empty those, wash what you took, and re-pack what we can in them. What about your books?”

I let my best friend order me around—gathering and stacking the books I want to take with me, carrying my clothes to and starting the washing machine, brewing a pot of coffee.

By the time Luci is finished telling me what to do, it’s almost noon, and Tristan has finally come back with moving boxes in hand.

We fill as many of the boxes as possible before Ashton needs a nap.

I drop onto the couch and sigh. “I forgot how much packing sucks. At least I’ve got y’all.”

“Always and forever,” Tristan says as he carries my ringing phone to me. “It’s your mom.”

I pause, hand outstretched. I have to tell my parents. I can’t keep it a secret that I will no longer live in the apartment my father pays for. My new home will be in Tennessee, not Austin. Blowing out a breath, I take the phone and slide a finger to answer the call.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, sweetie, just wanted to make sure you made it home alright.”

“Yeah, I did. Sorry for not texting like I promised to. I’ve just been busy.”

“Already?” My mom’s voice holds her frown. “You just got back.”

“Speaking of that… Mind if I add Dad and Mama to the call? There’s something I need to talk to y’all about.”

“Go right ahead, baby.”

Thankfully, both my father and my former stepmother answer within seconds of the outgoing call. I hope they can be civil in the wake of their divorce. The greetings are stilted but polite, so I count it as a win. Clearing my throat, I force myself not to chew on the edge of my nail.

“Thanks for joining in, guys. I appreciate it.”

“What’s going on?” my father asks, and I curse inwardly at the fact he can read me like a book, even from states away.

“I, uh… Y’all know how Ash and I went to stay with my boyfriend over the holidays? Well, it was amazing. It truly was. But, uh, my Christmas present was Holden asking us to move in with him. And I, I kinda said yes.”

The silence from all three of my parents reigns deafening over the line, and I give in: I place the edge of my thumbnail between my teeth and bite down.

When no one speaks, I ramble, promising that Ashton loves Holden, Holden is amazing with the toddler, we’ll have a wonderful life with Holden.

He’d sworn it. He’d proved it. Twice he’s opened his home to me, the second time accepting Ashton into the fold as easily as he breathes.

“When?”

I exhale slowly and say, “Next weekend.”

“That soon?” my mom splutters, and I wince. “Honey, are you sure about this? That’s awfully fast.”

I hesitate. Am I sure? Is Holden ? Before doubts can creep in, I remind myself of how ecstatic he was to hear my acceptance. How everyone had cheered and celebrated and congratulated us. How happy he’s made me since the day they met. It’s answer enough.

“Absolutely without a doubt.”

The call ends only moments later; my parents had given their approval, though my mothers voiced concerns about me driving the entire way. But they’d all three told me to do what fills my life with joy and peace. And living with Holden…

Just the thought is enough to inject calm through me, despite the nerves.

It’s real now, though. My family and best friends know I’m moving, and I have already requested a leave of absence from school. I can’t back out. Not without looking like a fool. Not without an onslaught of questions that I couldn’t answer.

Thankfully, Ashton doesn’t understand the change that’s coming: He doesn’t know that the apartment is home no more. He doesn’t know to ask when we’re leaving, when we’ll be in Tennessee, when everything will be different.

The day of the move comes too soon. The moon still hangs in the sky, speckles of starlight surrounding the sliver, when I slide out of bed.

I tiptoe from the room and stride with bare feet to the kitchen.

The French press is right where I left it in the cupboard beside the refrigerator, and I pull it down.

Refilling the kettle with water from the sink’s tap, I set it on its burner to boil.

A soft knock comes from the door, and I frown. It’s too early for visitors. I finish adding grounds to the press then make my way to the front door, weaving through the boxes littering the short hallway.

Luci holds up a box of pastries from the coffeeshop and a shopping bag full of snacks. “I brought reinforcements.”

“I didn’t even think of snacks for the road,” I admit with a groan. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Of course I am. Tristan’s on his way, too. There’s construction on the highway.”

I nod and head back to the kitchen. The aroma of sugar and carbs fills the air when I flip back the lid to the box.

Grabbing an apple danish, I bite off a large chunk and all but moans at the sweet-tart coating my tongue.

Luci takes over making the coffee while I eat another danish then a carrot-cake muffin.

Tristan arrives with little fanfare, just barrels into the apartment without knocking. His arms immediately wrap around me, and he buries his face in my hair. I squeeze my eyes closed and breathe in the scent I won’t smell for a long time.

We work to carry the boxes to my SUV, never leaving Ashton alone in the apartment by one staying behind while the other two work.

When we’ve finished, I go into my bedroom to wake him.

He fusses until I ask if he’s ready to go bye-bye, then he bounces on his bed while I struggle to unzip his pajamas.

He at least lies still so I can change his diaper.

As Tristan leads Luci and Ashton out of the apartment, I hesitate in the doorway to stare around at the home I’d made in the one-bedroom flat.

I’ve locked all windows and the balcony door, shades drawn tight over the glass.

All the appliances and electronics are unplugged.

Everything looks the same, but it feels so much more different, knowing I won’t come back.

Shaking off the thoughts, I grab my purse and keys, and step out into the hall. The lock slides into place with a resounding click that echoes with finality.

“I guess this is it,” Luci says quietly as she and Tristan stand by the driver’s side of the car.

I nod slowly, my hands tightening around the steering wheel. My eyes burn, but I don’t let the tears fall. I have to be strong. This goodbye isn’t forever. Just... for a while. Too long, I think.

“Love you guys,” I choke out, a single tear slipping down my cheek at the sight of my best friends crying.

“Love you, too, Deals.” Tristan coughs, looks away, blinks rapidly. When he looks back at me, his eyes swim in his tears, and his lips tremble. “Keep us updated, please.”

“Of course.”

My friends don’t move as I reverse out of the parking spot, and I wave one last time before driving away.

Ashton chatters happily in the backseat, but I can hardly breathe.

I’d known it would be difficult to leave my friends, my apartment, my city, my home.

I hadn’t known just how hard it would be. How painful.

The GPS announces the first turn, and I blow out a slow breath before following the directions.

The drive goes as smoothly as it can with a toddler.

He stops being so easygoing around the seven-hour mark, and I wince at the sharp screeches coming from behind me.

Though I’ve made sure to stop every so often to feed him and let him run around in the grass by whatever fast food joint or gas station I come to, I know Ashton is bored and ready to be out of the car. So am I.

To my immense relief, Ashton dozes off after another hour of his tantrum. This leaves me with only the radio for company, and I force myself to relax into my seat. Another five hours stretch out before me, each second and each spin of the tires bringing me closer to Holden. My present. My future.

By the time I pull into the drive, Ashton has woken up for dinner, and his reflection in the mirror happily munches on chicken nuggets.

I push open the door and step out into the blustering wind, shivering when icy rain hits my cheeks.

Ashton grins at me through the window, and I brush my hair from my face with one hand as I pull on the handle with the other.

Wrapping my arms securely around him, I use my hip to shut the doors then hurry up the walk to the front door.

The door that’s already open with my boyfriend waiting.

Holden steps to the side so I can pass, and I breathe out a ‘Thanks’ while lowering Ashton to the floor. His cheeks are already pink, but his eyes are bright. He squeals and drops the nugget in his hand, and Holden laughs before swooping the toddler into his arms.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks when I open the door again.

“Getting our stuff.”

“Get it later. Just pull into the garage.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

Holden’s hand finds mine, and he tugs me in for a quick kiss. I grin up at him, brush my lips against his, then rush out to the car.

Thankfully, though the other two doors hide a sports car and a sedan, there’s space in the three-car garage for my SUV.

Holden stands in the doorway to the house, Ashton leaning against his legs, when I shut off the engine, and I gaze through the windshield at the pair.

Something tightens in my chest, something telling me this is right.

It’s huge, it’s something new, but it’s something right .

After sending a quick ‘Made it safely!’ text to my family and friends, I slide out of the car and closes the door.

Holden smiles softly as I approach; his arms loop around my shoulders, and I lace my fingers together behind his back.

He doesn’t kiss me like I expect. Instead, he only rests his forehead against mine.

A lock of his hair brushes against my temple, but I’m distracted by the gleam in Holden’s eyes.

The serious expression on his face. His lips part, form words:

“Welcome home, Dealla.”