Updated Feb 20, 2026 • ~5 min read
LUCIA
Moving in together should be exciting.
And it is.
But it’s also terrifying.
“You’re overthinking it,” Paloma says, helping me pack.
“What if he realizes he made a mistake?”
“Then he realizes it. But he won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that man looks at you like you hung the moon. He’s not going to change his mind.”
I want to believe her.
WESTLEY
I’m making space.
Cleaning out drawers.
Clearing closet space.
Making room for Lucia in my life.
Literally.
“This is weird, right?” I ask Tate on the phone.
“What’s weird?”
“Moving in together after only a few months of officially dating.”
“You’ve known her longer than that.”
“Under false pretenses.”
“Okay, yeah. It’s a little weird. But who cares? If it feels right, do it.”
“It feels right.”
“Then there’s your answer.”
LUCIA
Moving day is organized chaos.
Paloma. Jonah. Tate. Even West’s parents show up to help.
“You don’t have much stuff,” Mrs. Archer observes.
“I like to travel light.”
“Smart girl.”
We move boxes.
Furniture.
My entire life fitting into West’s apartment.
Our apartment now.
“Where do you want this?” Jonah asks, holding a box labeled “Books.”
“Living room. West is building me shelves.”
“He’s building you shelves?”
“Yeah.”
Jonah grins.
“He’s got it bad.”
WESTLEY
By evening, everything is moved in.
The apartment is a disaster.
Boxes everywhere.
But Lucia is here.
In my space.
Our space.
After everyone leaves, we collapse on the couch.
“We did it,” she says.
“We did.”
“No going back now.”
“Would you want to?”
She looks at me.
“Not even a little bit.”
I kiss her.
“Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”
“I can think of worse fates.”
LUCIA
That first night feels surreal.
We unpack a few boxes.
Order pizza.
Pretend we’re not both nervous about this huge step.
“What if I have annoying habits?” I ask.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I steal blankets. I talk in my sleep. I leave coffee cups everywhere.”
“I already know all that.”
“How?”
“You’ve stayed over before. Plus I pay attention.”
He’s right.
We’ve spent enough nights together.
This isn’t that different.
Except it is.
Because this is permanent.
Or at least, we’re hoping it is.
WESTLEY
Two weeks in, we find our rhythm.
She makes coffee in the morning.
I cook dinner.
We split chores.
It’s domestic.
Comfortable.
Right.
“I could get used to this,” she says one night.
We’re on the couch. Her feet in my lap.
“Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”
She smiles.
But there’s something in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just… happy. It’s weird being this happy.”
“Weird how?”
“Like I’m waiting for something to go wrong.”
I squeeze her foot.
“Nothing’s going to go wrong.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can try.”
LUCIA
I’m at the coffee shop when Mira walks in.
Great.
“Lucia, right?” she says.
“That’s me.”
“I’m Mira. I work with West.”
“I know who you are.”
Awkward silence.
“Can I get you something?” I ask professionally.
“Latte. Soy milk.”
“Coming up.”
I make her drink.
She watches me the whole time.
“So you and West are living together now,” she says.
Not a question. A statement.
“We are.”
“That’s… fast.”
I hand her the latte.
“When you know, you know.”
She takes the cup.
“I hope he knows what he’s doing.”
The words sting.
But I keep my face neutral.
“Have a great day.”
She leaves.
I exhale.
WESTLEY
Lucia tells me about Mira that night.
“She came to the coffee shop?”
“Yeah. Made some comment about us moving in together being fast.”
“She had no right—”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. She was being passive-aggressive.”
“Maybe. But she’s not wrong. It is fast.”
I turn to face her.
“Do you regret it? Moving in?”
“No! God, no. I just… I can see how it looks from the outside.”
“I don’t care how it looks. This is our relationship. No one else’s.”
She smiles.
“You’re right.”
“I usually am.”
She throws a pillow at me.
LUCIA
A month into living together, West’s mom invites us to dinner.
Just the four of us.
West. Me. His parents.
“They want to get to know you better,” West says.
“They already know me.”
“As my girlfriend. Now you’re the woman I’m living with. It’s different.”
Fair point.
Dinner is lovely.
His mom makes lasagna.
We talk about work. Life. Future plans.
“So what are your intentions with my son?” his dad asks.
“Dad!” West protests.
“What? It’s a fair question.”
I laugh.
“My intentions are to love him. Support him. Build a life with him.”
Tom nods approvingly.
“Good answer.”
Later, his mom pulls me aside.
“I’m glad you’re here, Lucia.”
“Me too, Mrs. Archer.”
“Call me Diana. And I mean it. You’re good for West. He’s happier than I’ve seen him in years.”
“He makes me happy too.”
“I can tell. Just… take care of each other, okay?”
“I will. I promise.”
WESTLEY
On the drive home, Lucia is quiet.
“You okay?”
“Your mom told me to take care of you.”
“Yeah?”
“It made me think about how close I came to ruining everything.”
I take her hand.
“But you didn’t. We’re here. Together.”
“I know. I just don’t want to take it for granted.”
“Then don’t. Love me every day like you could lose me.”
She looks at me.
“I already do.”
END OF CHAPTER 21
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