My Best Friend is Back

Epilogue

Epilogue

My hands grasped the medium, heavy, cardboard box trying to sit it down gently to keep from breaking the antique vase Aiden’s mom had sent us when she heard of our move. She was delighted when she found out we were moving out of the tiny apartment we’d started out in and decided to go bigger and better.

Our old apartment wasn’t bad by any means, but we were just outgrowing it. We’d accumulated too much stuff and it wasn’t exactly suitable for someone wanting to expand their family. I guess, technically we weren’t a family yet, considering Aiden and I weren’t married. We’d discussed it a few times in the past and nothing ever came of it.

I really didn’t see any point in making it legal when I knew that it took much more than a piece of paper to make a marriage. We’d been living that way since we moved to New York without any certificates or procedures. We were us. No label intended.

I was happy Aiden had the same views and was willing to do exactly anything I wanted as long as I was happy. The truth was, if he’d have pressed me on it or proposed to me anyway, I wouldn’t have said no. If it meant making him happy I would have done it.

I sat down on a nearby table and began pulling items out of a box. The vase I placed on a high shelf to ensure its continued life and place the other remaining things in their new places. After a week of moving, thing were finally starting to come together again.

It was home.

“This is the last of them,” Aiden said, placing two boxes on the floor at his feet. He looked around the room appreciatively. “It looks great, Bay.”

“I even found a place for your mother’s vase.” I pointed to the shelf I was just at.

“She’ll be happy to know we’ve found a use for it already. Look, it even matches the maroon rug.”

I looked down and laughed. “Yeah, it’s almost like she planned the whole thing.”

The rug was also a gift from his mom. It was a housewarming present from our previous apartment she’d given us almost five years ago. I’d taken great care of it over the years. It still looked brand new.

“With mom, that’s always possible.”

And it was. She was always finding excuses to send us stuff. Half the things in our boxes were things she’d sent. That’s how we’d accumulated so much stuff.

“How about some dinner, are you hungry?” I asked him. We’d been unloading things all day and had only stopped for snaking.

“I could go grab us some burgers,” he offered taking me in his arms. “Then we could come back and finish working on that room you love so much.”

He always knew how to sweet talk me.

“That sounds appetizing. Just remember no pickles on mine.”

“I won’t forget this time. I promise,” he assured me.

Lately I’d had an aversion to pickles and the mere thought of them reached my gag reflex. I couldn’t explain it without getting my hopes up and I wasn’t doing that again. We hadn’t had much luck in that department.

“It’s a good thing I trust you.” I smiled and kissed him on the lips.

“The best,” he agreed.

After our food was consumed we went to work on the bedroom. I knew what I’d intended the bedroom for, though, I didn’t feel it was safe to jump the gun just yet. As a start we were just making it into a spare until the news came in that we wanted.