Page 127 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

I took a sip, my eyes still on Merritt. “She’s worth it,” I said simply. “Makes everything seem easy, you know?”

Riggs nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Makes the crazy stuff we do seem not so crazy when you have someone like that riding shotgun.”

“Except I’m the one riding shotgun.”

Kleo and Merritt came back in. “We’re going to my place to play cards tonight,” Merritt announced.

I looked at Riggs, who nodded. “I’ll bring the booze,” he said.

“We’ll stop by the store and get some fried chicken and stuff to make nachos,” Merritt said. “We’ll see you guys in a couple of hours.”

Riggs and Kleo waved goodbye. With plans set, Merritt grabbed my hand.

“Let’s go!” she urged, tugging me toward the door.

I could feel the buzz of anticipation humming through me as we walked to the truck. It wasn’t just for the drive or for card night, but for everything that lay ahead with Merritt. Life had a way of becoming extraordinary when she was by my side.

We swung by the grocery store to pick up supplies. She stacked our cart with bags of chips, tubs of dip, and all the fixings for nachos. At the checkout, she chatted with the cashier as if they were old friends. Meanwhile, I loaded our goodies into bags, not missing how her laughter made heads turn. I wondered if she realized how much of a light she was in the world.

“Are you okay hanging out with Kleo?” Merritt asked as we set up the card table for the game. “I probably should have asked you first.”

“Yeah, I’m fine with it.”

“Good. I want you guys to be friends again. I like her. I hope she and I can be good friends. Is that weird?”

“No, it’s not weird,” I assured her.

Merritt smiled. “Good. Because I think it’s important, you know? Having mutual friends, creating our own little community.”

Kleo and Riggs showed up together, which I planned on talking to Riggs about later. Kleo came bearing a box of gourmet cookies.

The four of us settled in for an evening of food, laughter, and competitive card games. Riggs and I teamed up against the girls, who were surprisingly ruthless. Merritt’s sharp wit and Kleo’s deadpan delivery had us laughing so hard we barely noticed when my phone rang. I looked at the screen and then at Merritt. “It’s the realtor.”

My stomach tightened. I didn’t realize how much I’d been holding my breath about the house until that moment. “Answer it,” she pleaded.

I accepted the call and listened with three sets of eyes trying to read my expression.

“Thanks for calling,” I said. “We’ll be in touch.”

Merritt was practically bouncing in her seat. “Well?”

“We got it. The house is ours!”

The room erupted into cheers. Riggs clapped me on the back, and Kleo pulled Merritt into a hug. I couldn’t stop smiling, the weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying lifting off my shoulders.

“Congratulations,” Riggs said.

Merritt grabbed her phone. “I have to call Lucia and Dominique. They’re going to freak out.”

While she made her calls, Kleo and Riggs congratulated me, their excitement genuine. “Big step,” Riggs said, grinning. “You ready for it?”

“More than ready,” I said, watching Merritt from across the room. “Feels like everything’s falling into place.”

That night, we celebrated quietly at home. It was the kind of night that felt like it didn’t need anything more than the two of us. Merritt was already making plans—talking about how she’d have time to sort out work before the move, how she wanted to make the house feel like ours. I just listened, soaking it all in. This was the life I’d always dreamed of, and it was finally happening.

“Should we paint the bedroom or just leave it as is?” she asked.

She had her phone in hand and was scrolling through pictures of other bedrooms online.