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“Exactly,” he says flatly, and then takes my hands in his. “Come on. You can live with me for free.”
“Absolutely not, dude!”
“Okay! Okay. Just pay me what you are currently paying here. Fair?”
“Raf,” I say, trying to reason with him. “Your townhouse is way nicer than this place.”
“You don’t know how much they pay for this house. But that’s not the point,” he says, squeezing my hands a little tighter. “The point is, we spend all our time with each other anyway, we’ve lived together before and fucking excelled at it, and I’m in a position to be able to offer this to you.”
Chewing on my lip, I ponder the possibility.
He continues. “Do you think you don’t deserve to live somewhere nice just because you don’t make much money?” I roll my eyes at the accurate statement. “Angel, you could be making more money than me working at a private practice. Instead, you’ve chosen to work with kids who need you. With families that don’t always appreciate you. You’ve chosen to work for those who could never afford to pay you out of their own pockets. Stop making yourself believe you’re only as worthy as your salary.”
My eyebrows lower as I pout at how right he is. “Okay,” I sigh. “That was really nice of you to say.”
“So you’ll move in?”
Should I? Based on previous experience, I know I can. But that tendril of unrequited…emotion…I keep locked away… what about that? I’ve been able to keep it at bay—the feeling that shall not be named. At this point, it’s like your favorite pair of shoes suddenly have a little squeak to them, and you think, Well, that’s annoying. But I’m never going to throw away these shoes. They’re the best.
I can live with a little squeak—I’ve been doing it for years. I can keep it up.
Letting out a sigh, I look at him in his deep brown eyes and I give in. “Yeah. I’ll move in.”
“Fuck yes!” he cheers, grabbing my arms and shaking me like I’m a magic eight ball. But Razzle thinks he’s attacking me, so he jumps to my rescue and starts biting his arms. Again, how can he see? “Ow ow! Okay, I let her go! Stop!” he screams, jumping up and running away to the safety of my bed. “You know, you’re moving in too, big man. I wouldn’t be so aggressive to the person sheltering you.”
Razz curls up in my lap and starts loudly meowing at him—like he’s setting the ground rules.
Good boy.
Chapter 6
June 1st
Angie
Last night I woke up in a panic. It wasn’t from a dream or anything like that. I literally woke up dizzy. I didn’t know you could wake up from that. But lo and behold, with my room spinning and an aching emptiness inside my gut, I held onto my bed for dear life. It was unlike any spinning hangover I’ve ever experienced—far worse. Somehow, I made it out of bed and downstairs to the kitchen where I took a sip of juice and felt mildly better. I tried to drink water but gagged in my efforts. There’s something about water that’s not sitting right with me lately—like I need to add something to it to make it more palatable.
When I finally got back to bed, I managed to fall asleep again and I woke up with my alarm. Glad the dizziness was mostly gone, I started packing the remaining last-minute essentials before everyone arrived to help me move.
Is it overkill to have all three of my brothers, Marco, Jay, and Cora here to help? Maybe. But also, Cora isn’t lifting a finger. She just found out she was pregnant, and Marco and Jay are being hyper-vigilant. They just got back from a long vacation where they decided to get married without anyone else present!
Married without me.
I’m not salty at all.
Fuckers.
But also, I’ve been crying with happiness for them nonstop since they told me.
Dane and Jonah pull up in the small U-Haul right as Raf comes out of the house with a heavy box. I wave to them as Isaiah pulls away from the curb, opening a spot for the truck.
Man, even lifting my arm to wave is difficult and I’m tired suddenly. I let my hand flop down but shake it off. Bending to lift a box of clothes, I have a rush of lightheadedness as my heart rate picks up dramatically, and with no thought, I fall to the sidewalk.
I think I’m conscious, but my senses are lowered somehow. I can hear, but everything is quieter. I can see, but everything looks white-washed. I can feel, but only the dizziness buzzing in my head.
“Angie! Angie!” I hear a powerful voice push through the fog, and then hands are on the back of my neck holding me upright as I sit limply. Rafael stares at me with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”
Vaguely sensing everyone else gather around, I manage to whisper, “I’m…so dizzy.” My eyes shut of their own accord, but Raf shakes me.
