Chapter 70

The sky was a patchwork of stars when they got home, a soft, inky navy stretched overhead like a cozy blanket wrapping around the little town one final time. The air held that gentle kind of stillness only a small place can offer—the kind where even the trees seemed to hush, aware of the goodbye hanging thick in the atmosphere.

Emma kicked off her sandals by the door and stretched, her back giving the tiniest pop. “Remind me to never spend five hours in a car without at least one stretch break and two snack stops.”

Abigail walked in behind her, arms full of takeout containers they’d picked up on the way home—comfort food from the same place Emma used to bring her fries during study nights. “You mean our five-hour goodbye tour extravaganza?” she teased. “You loved every second.”

Emma tried to scoff but cracked a smile. “Okay, yeah. I did.”

They set the food on the coffee table, then looked around at the half-empty house. Most of their furniture had been sold or given away. The walls, once decorated with mismatched frames, now sat bare except for a few taped-up reminders: “Pack last,” “Don’t forget charger,” “Return spare key to landlord.”

Abigail sat on the couch and pulled the food closer, lifting a fry to her mouth and sighing dramatically. “I can’t believe this is our last night here.”

Emma settled next to her, curling into her side. “Me either. Feels like this place just finally started feeling like home.”

“Well, lucky for us,” Abigail said, resting her head on Emma’s shoulder, “home isn’t really a place anymore.”

Emma smiled. “It’s you.”

“Exactly.”

They ate in silence for a little while, their bodies touching just enough, the way they always did when words weren’t necessary. But as the last of the fries disappeared and the containers were stacked to the side, Emma let out a long breath.

“I keep thinking about tomorrow,” she said. “The movers, the drive, it’s all so real now.”

Abigail nodded. “I know. It’s scary. But it’s also… kind of amazing, right?”

Emma looked down at her growing bump and smiled. “Yeah. It is. I mean, we’re about to start everything we dreamed of. New York. A fresh start. A baby. That little apartment with the squeaky floors and too many stairs.”

“And that bakery you’re going to fall in love with and never shut up about.”

Emma nudged her playfully. “I do love a good pastry.”

Abigail reached for Emma’s hand and laced their fingers together. “We’re not just leaving this place. We’re becoming something new. A family.”

The word settled between them like a warm blanket. Family.

“I’m terrified,” Emma whispered.

“I know,” Abigail said. “But I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out, Em. One day at a time.”

They eventually ended up on the floor in the middle of the living room, lying on a spare blanket beneath the ceiling fan. The open windows let in a warm breeze and the sound of crickets, a perfect lullaby for their final night here.

Emma lay on her back, one hand cradling her belly, the other curled around Abigail’s. “Do you think the baby can hear us yet?”

“Maybe,” Abigail said. “Wanna say something?”

Emma turned her head toward her, grinning. “Hi. I’m your mom. You don’t know me yet, but I already love you so much it makes my chest hurt. Also, please let me sleep occasionally when you arrive. Your mom and I like naps.”

Abigail laughed and rolled onto her side, pressing a gentle kiss to Emma’s shoulder. “You’re gonna be amazing.”

“So are you.”

They fell asleep like that—under the stars, on a floor that didn’t feel like just a floor anymore, but a farewell stage for the life they’d known.

Tomorrow, everything would change.

But tonight, they were together. And that made everything okay.

The goodbye was real.
But so was the love.
And the new life waiting just beyond sunrise.

____________________________________________________

The sunlight spilled gently across the floorboards, golden and unhurried, as if even the sun knew this morning was sacred. Boxes were stacked by the front door like quiet sentinels, waiting patiently for the movers. The last of their bags were zipped and ready.

Emma stirred first, blinking sleep from her eyes as she adjusted to the hush of the room. Her back ached faintly from sleeping on the floor, but she didn’t mind. Beside her, Abigail lay curled under the blanket, her arm thrown across Emma’s stomach, her face tucked into the curve of Emma’s shoulder like she belonged there—because she did.

For a few peaceful seconds, Emma didn’t move. She just breathed.

This was it.

The last morning in the house where everything had changed.

She reached over and gently brushed a strand of hair from Abigail’s face. “Hey,” she whispered. “It’s morning.”

Abigail groaned. “Tell morning to wait five more minutes.”

Emma chuckled. “If morning waits, the movers might leave without us.”

That got a reaction. Abigail blinked awake, sitting up slowly. “Ugh. Right. Real life.”

Emma eased herself into a sitting position, hand automatically sliding over her bump. It was growing faster now. Realer every day. She could almost swear she’d felt the tiniest flutter last night, like butterfly wings.

They moved around the house in a sleepy rhythm—folding the blanket, brushing their teeth side by side in the now-empty bathroom, grabbing granola bars from the almost-empty pantry.

As they stood in the doorway one last time, Abigail paused, her hand lingering on the frame.

“We’ve had so many versions of ourselves in this house,” she said quietly. “The scared one, the uncertain one, the one who didn’t know she was in love yet…”

Emma smiled. “The one who fell in love anyway. The one who stayed. The one who said yes.”

Abigail turned to her and wrapped her arms around her middle. “You ready?”

Emma took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

—

The drive into New York was long but full of tiny magic. They blasted music from a shared playlist, shouting lyrics with the windows cracked open. Emma had to stop twice to pee, which Abigail pretended to be annoyed by but secretly found adorable.

When they hit the city limits, everything changed.

The skyline rose like a promise—buildings piercing the clouds, sunlight reflecting off glass like sparks. Traffic bustled, horns honked, and people filled the sidewalks like ants in a rhythm all their own.

And there it was. Their new life, unfolding just ahead.

The penthouse building was sleek and tall, a mix of steel and glass that practically screamed new beginnings. The doorman greeted them by name, having already received instructions from the leasing agent. It was surreal.

The elevator doors opened to reveal their space at the top.

Abigail stepped in first, her eyes wide.

“Okay. I knew it was gonna be nice but…”

“Wow,” Emma whispered, slowly turning in a circle.

Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the city spread out beneath them like a dream. Hardwood floors gleamed. There was a fireplace—an actual fireplace. And the kitchen? All white tile and gold accents.

They didn’t speak for a minute. Just looked. Held hands. Took it all in.

Finally, Abigail let out a breath and looked over at Emma. “So… what do you think?”

Emma smiled, a tear slipping down her cheek before she could stop it.

“I think this is the start of everything.”

They dropped their bags and crossed the threshold into their new home. No more hiding. No more waiting. Just love, loud and unapologetic.

Abigail twirled Emma in the empty living room, and Emma laughed, light and free.

Their future had arrived.

And it looked exactly like this.