Page 183 of Knot Their Starlet

At the top of the landing, Edison turns and catches my expression. He doesn’t say anything. He just waits, his hands clasped loosely in front of him, giving me all the time in the world to process what I need to.

It’s so different from my mom. The thought makes my heart hurt.

What would my childhood have been like if I’d spent it with him instead of her?

“Sorry,” I mumble.

I’m not sure whether I’m apologizing for the blasphemous, traitorous thought or making him wait.

“Don’t be. No need to apologize,” he says.

He turns and stops at the second door down the hall. There’s a sheepishness in the way he reaches for the handle that I recognize. It’s the same look I’m pretty sure I get when I’m getting ready to show something important to me to someone whose opinion I care about.

“Fair warning,” he says, his lips twitching up. “I... redid most of the furniture, but I couldn’t bring myself to⁠—”

He opens the door.

Oh.

I get what he means the moment I can see inside. The walls are painted a bright, absurd, almost neon aquamarine. The kind of color that child-me must have absolutely loved.

“It was your favorite color. At least when we were picking paint. You wouldn’t let go of the sample card no matter how many different colors were offered by the interior decorator.”

I stare at the walls, feeling something tug at the back of my mind. My mom’s shrill voice yelling. I don’t even remember what she was yelling about.

That tends to be the case for a lot of my childhood memories. It’s like my brain was so overwhelmed by everything that it lost its ability to file the memories away properly.

“My mom hated it, didn’t she?” I snort.

His brows raise in surprise before he offers a slow nod.

“She was not... the happiest, no. But you were so excited, I just couldn’t say no.”

I think about the child version of me I barely remember. The version of me that was small and loud about her opinions, with someone who loved her enough to honor them.

“I think I picked it because it reminded me of the ocean,” I murmur softly, running my hand along the wall.

I think of my apartment. There are still bits and pieces of that aesthetic I’ve included, though in a far tamer and more appropriate way, at least by my mom’s standards. The framed print of the sea glass coast above my couch, the little ceramic shell dish on my shoe cabinet, the shower curtain with the stupid cartoon waves on it that Ezra would never stop giving me shit for.

What other things are remnants of my childhood? What parts of myself, the parts about the things I love, have roots in my childhood with Edison that I can’t remember?

My eyes drift up to the ceiling, and I freeze.

“Are those...”

“Ah, yes, the planets,” Edison says, smiling fondly up at the ceiling. “Couldn’t get rid of those either.”

“Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto,” I breathe out. “Did you teach me those?”

“I did!” Edison nods fondly. “Though apparently they’ve gotten rid of Pluto from the official solar system.”

“I was so sad when they did it,” I say, letting out a soft huff of laughter as I stare up at the floating plastic planets hanging from my ceiling. “Thank you for showing me this.”

“Of course, Andi. I mean it. This is... this is your home too. You’re welcome at any time.”

We head back downstairs after a few minutes. The guys join us for the tail end of the tour, making conversation with Edison.

Leo catches my eye over Edison’s shoulder and raises his brows, almost like he’s asking me if I’m okay.