"Hi—hello, this is Brooke. I'm expecting a guest shortly. His name is Dustin Sanders. Would you mind sending him up when he arrives?"
"Certainly, madam. May we assist with anything else?"
"No, thank you."
Click. Yeah, this is rich-people shit. I like it. The front desk receptionist had a vaguely British accent and everything.
Not five minutes later, Dustin gently knocked on my door with a backpack and a brown paper shopping bag.His eyes widen as he peers behind me at the gigantic suite. "Wow."
"Wow is right," I laugh and beckon him inside. "There's, like, two rooms. The bedroom is separate?"
"Atmosphere must really like you," he jokes. "They never put me up in a place likethis."
"Really? Guess I better not get used to it, then." I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. "So… they offered me the Onboarding Director role."
He freezes. Based on his rapid blinking, I can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he processes the bomb I just dropped on him. After what feels like an exceedingly long silence, he exhales. "Wow. I should have brought nicer wine."
"That's it?" I squeak. "You're not mad?"
"No, baby. I'm a little surprised but at the same time? Not really. You're incredible, you know your shit, and you work amazingly well with people. It makes alotof sense. You're going to do amazing—and if there's any way I can help you get a leg up, any kind of competitive edge, or tips? Anything? Tell me, baby. I know you're going to thrive." He drops his bags to the floor and rushes me, enveloping me in his arms.
While I was a little nervous about dropping the news, I'm not shocked he's being so supportive. This is Dustin. This is how he's always been. I'm going to make him—and myself—so proud. I snuggle into his embrace and let out a tiny giggle.
"Would now be a good time to tell you the rest of the news?"
He stiffens. "There's more?"
"Yeah, babe. There's more." I step back and look him in the eye. "This position is Chicago-based. So… were you still serious about me moving in?"
Dustin's jaw drops, and his soulful eyes search mine. "You're not kidding? This is happening? Oh, my god, yes. Yes. Yes. When? How soon?"
"In the next month—I'll have to go back to New York and wrap things up there, but I officially start my training on April 7th. Isn't that insane?" My voice ratchets up a few octaves with my squeal.
"Holy shit—oh my god, Brooke, you've made me the happiest man on the planet. Yes, holy shit, yes. Yes, times a thousand. How do we move Huey here? Can you take cats on airplanes?" He squeezes my shoulders and flashes me the most dazzling smile in the world. My knees go a little weak.
"We'll figure it out, won't we?"
"Yeah, baby. Yeah, we will. Seriously, Brooke. I'm so fucking proud of you. I love you."
"I love you, too."
Epilogue
2 years later
Brooke
"Dusty!Areyoureadyyet?" I yell out as I triple-check the flight info on my phone. I just finished washing up my baking trays. I don't sell my goods anymore, but the flow of baking a massive batch of cookies (or cupcakes) relaxes me. And Dustinadoresreaping the benefits.
"No. Help." His voice echoes down the hall of what's nowourcondo. I roll my eyes and plod down to the bedroom where I find Huey sleeping peacefully on his lap. Dustin looks up at me with pleading eyes.
"What?" I ask as I pop out my hip.
"You know it's illegal to move a sleeping cat. Look at his little toes—they're so cute, they should be outlawed!" Dustin protests with a whisper-yell.
"He's just doing that because he can sense we're leaving. It'll be fine, babe. The house sitter is locked and loaded. She's gonna be here tonight—I left her a pile of chocolate chip cookies—and Huey will get the chance to wrap another human around his finger. Paw.Whatever," I chuckle. "Our flight's in two hours and you know security will be insane—we need to go!"
Dustin heaves a sigh, and I watch my husband gently remove the orange menace from his lap, then place him directly into the warm sunbeam on our bed. His gold wedding band glints in the light, and I stifle a smile.