lighten the mood, I tell Tiff with a raised eyebrow, “Yeah, we’ve definitely agreed on no Mommy or Daddy kinky shit and that he can be a control freak all he wants while we’re having sex because I like it then, but outside the bedroom, we’re equal partners. Ones who say ‘I love you’ and give reassuring comments like a fucking Hallmark movie.”
“Y’all are a Hallmark movie! Except for the bossy bedroom stuff. That’s more Skin-a-Max After Hours. Bow-chicka-bow-wow,” she says with a little shimmy. “But he’s the rich knight come to save the day of the poor barmaiden in distress.”
“Yeah, definitely not,” I tell her, knowing I’d told Scott that several times when we’d first started out and she’s well aware of that fact. “I know we’re annoying as fuck, but it’s working for us. Especially while we’re still learning better communication. Feels good.”
Tiff looks around the big room, taking in the tall windows, the plush couch we’re sitting on, and the bright kitchen before her eyes settle on my face, searching it just as closely. “Are you happy here? With him?”
I bite my lip, not because I’m unsure but because I know that if I yell my joy the way I want to, I’ll surely scare Marisol and likely have a headache from the noise. Instead, I tell her the truth quietly. “So happy. I didn’t know it could be like this, Tiff. It’s beautiful and he’s mine. And I’m his. And it’s . . . us.” Halfway through, I give up the battle against the tears and let them run down my face, feeling cleansed by the salty release of happiness.
“I’m really happy for you, Maddie. If anyone deserves a happily ever after, it’s sure as fuck you. Just to clarify, you’re living here forever now, right?” She says it casually, but it sounds like a loaded question.
“Uh, yeah,” I hedge. “Why?”
Tiff smiles. “’Cuz I’m getting a new roomie now that you’re out. Devin needs a new place to crash. Guess his current roommates are getting a bit too bitchy for his taste, so he wants something a bit more chill. Plus, we can carpool.”
It feels a little like she’s replacing me, which stings. But I know that’s not the case. Tiff is my bestie through and through, and Devin is a great guy, so I’m glad they can help each other out with bills. “All right, he can have my room, but I get dibs on the left end of the couch anytime I come over.”
Tiff smirks at me. “Duh. Of course. That’s your end.”
“How is Stella doing? I hated that I was still in the hospital when she had the funeral for Daryl.” Stella had offered to hold off for my release, but I’d known she needed closure. It’ll be an open wound for a long time, but at least the service gave her a chance to grieve and connect with family and Daryl’s friends.
“She’s doing as well as can be expected. She misses Daryl terribly, but she’s a strong woman. Right now, she’s in survival mode . . . just keep swimming, just keep swimming.” Tiff mimics the popular kids’ movie line. “But we’re keeping the bar running like a well-oiled machine. Still no word from Carl though. Stella’s afraid he’s dead somewhere too. He’s an ass, but he’s never disappeared before so she doesn’t know what to think.”
I nod, hoping Stella at least gets an answer because the not-knowing is soul-crushing. I know that Carl did scare me, and he was grossly inappropriate, but in the scope of everything else that’s happened, it seems so much less of a big deal now. Of course, if he comes back, I’ll probably feel quite differently about that, and I’ll never risk being in a vulnerable position with him again. But that seems nebulous and full of ‘what-ifs’ . . . what if he shows up, what if he doesn’t think he did anything wrong, what if I were alone with him again? I just can’t think about it right now, and I vow to handle it better when and if Carl ever shows up.
Tiff and I hang out all day, vegging and talking and laughing until Marisol runs her off, saying, “Mr. Danger is on his way.” Tiff had feigned fear and scurried out like a field mouse who’d seen the plow coming. But she’d left the supplies for a root beer float for Scott, so I know she approves of him.