Chapter 21

PAT’s POV:

By the time Kat and I arrived at the condo, the sun was already starting to set.

The trip from San Juan had been long.

Most of it spent talking.

The rest spent with Kat asleep on my shoulder.

Again.

Not that I was complaining.

Now, standing in front of the building with her backpack hanging from one shoulder and two luggage beside her, everything suddenly felt real.

She was here.

Not for a weekend.

Not for a visit.

Not for a holiday.

She was moving in.

Permanently.

Well…

At least until her duty at St. Aurelia ended.

Still.

That was long enough.

“Ready?” I asked.

Kat looked up at the building.

Then at me.

Then back at the building.

“I think so.”

I smiled.

“Good.”

Together, we dragged her luggage toward the elevator.

The ride up was quiet.

Not awkward.

Just full of anticipation.

The kind that came before something important.

When the elevator doors opened, Kat immediately stepped out.

Then froze.

I already knew why.

Because I remembered exactly what the condo looked like before she arrived.

—

Three days earlier.

“Pat.”

I looked up from the stack of freshly washed bedsheets.

Mat was standing at my door.

Holding a plastic bag of snacks.

Looking extremely suspicious.

“What?”

He stepped inside.

Then stopped.

Then slowly looked around.

The guest room.

The kitchen.

The dining area.

The living room.

The bathroom.

Then back at me.

“What happened here?”

I frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“This.”

He pointed dramatically around the condo.

“The deep cleaning.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I’m preparing.”

“For what?”

“Kat.”

Silence.

Then:

“Oh.”

A very dangerous smile appeared on his face.

“Oh.”

I immediately regretted answering.

“Don’t.”

“Pat.”

“Don’t.”

“You’re acting like your wife is moving in.”

I nearly threw a pillow at him.

“Get out.”

He laughed so hard he almost dropped his snacks.

“I’m serious!”

“Get out.”

“You bought new curtains.”

“They were on sale.”

“You bought new bedsheets.”

“Sale.”

“You bought new towels.”

“Sale.”

“You reorganized the kitchen.”

“Needed cleaning.”

“You bought matching mugs.”

I froze.

The traitor had found them.

Mat immediately grabbed the mugs from the counter.

One had a small basketball.

The other had a tiny stethoscope.

He stared at them.

Then at me.

Then at the mugs again.

“PAT.”

“They were on sale.”

“That’s your defense?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a terrible defense.”

I pointed at the door.

“Leave.”

Unfortunately, he spent the next twenty minutes laughing at me.

—

The thing was…

Mat wasn’t completely wrong.

I had spent the entire three days preparing.

Not because Kat asked.

Because I wanted to.

I bought her favorite coffee.

The soap she always used.

Extra hangers.

Extra pillows.

Extra blankets.

I even cleared half of my pantry because I knew she’d complain about my eating habits.

And somehow…

I still felt unprepared.

—

Present Day.

“Pat.”

Kat’s voice pulled me back.

“Hm?”

She was standing in the middle of the condo.

Slowly looking around.

The living room.

The kitchen.

The dining table.

The hallway.

Then finally at me.

“You cleaned.”

I immediately looked away.

“So?”

She pointed everywhere.

“Pat.”

“What?”

“You cleaned.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is.”

I sighed.

Because I already knew where this conversation was going.

Kat walked toward the kitchen.

Then stopped.

Her eyes landed on the mugs.

My heart immediately dropped.

No.

Not those.

Anything but those.

She picked them up.

One basketball.

One stethoscope.

Then looked at me.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

“Patricia.”

I looked away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Matching mugs?”

“They were on sale.”

The silence lasted exactly two seconds.

Then Kat started laughing.

Not normal laughing.

The kind of laughing where she couldn’t breathe.

The kind that made her lean against the counter.

“Oh my God.”

“They were.”

“Sure.”

“They were.”

“Okay.”

I pointed at the mugs.

“It would’ve been financially irresponsible not to buy them.”

That only made her laugh harder.

I hated how cute she looked when she laughed.

—

After unpacking for the next few hours, the condo slowly started changing.

Books appeared on shelves.

A nursing bag appeared near the door.

A water tumbler appeared on the dining table.

A hoodie appeared on the couch.

Little pieces of Kat.

Everywhere.

And somehow…

I liked it.

A lot.

By dinner, both of us were exhausted.

Too tired to cook.

Too tired to think.

So we ordered takeout and sat on the floor surrounded by half-open boxes.

“This feels weird.”

Kat admitted.

I looked at her.

“Good weird or bad weird?”

She thought about it.

Then smiled.

“Good weird.”

I smiled too.

“Same.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

The city lights glowed through the windows.

The condo felt warmer somehow.

Less empty.

Less quiet.

More alive.

Kat looked around.

Then at me.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me stay.”

The answer came naturally.

The same answer I always gave.

“You’re Kat.”

She smiled.

A small smile.

The kind she only gave when she was emotional.

Then she shook her head.

“You know, normal people don’t prepare this much.”

I smirked.

“Good thing I’m not normal.”

She laughed.

And hearing that laugh echo through the condo made something settle inside my chest.

Because for the first time in years…

When I woke up tomorrow…

Kat would still be here.

Not hundreds of kilometers away.

Not behind a phone screen.

Not waiting for the next vacation.

Just a few steps down the hallway.

And as I looked around the condo now filled with traces of her existence, I realized something.

This place had always been mine.

But somehow…

Tonight…

It finally felt like home.

✦ Author’s Note ✦

Guys.

I just want to point out something.

Patricia Dela Cruz spent **THREE DAYS** preparing for Kat’s arrival.

Three.

Whole.

Days.

😭😭😭

Let’s review the evidence.

✅ Deep cleaned the condo.

✅ Bought new bedsheets.

✅ Bought new pillows.

✅ Bought new towels.

✅ Stocked the fridge.

✅ Stocked the pantry.

✅ Cleared shelves for Kat.

✅ Bought her favorite soap.

✅ Bought her favorite coffee.

✅ Prepared the guest room.

✅ Bought matching mugs.

Pat: *”They were on sale.”*

Reader:

👁️👄👁️

Sure, Patricia.

And I was born yesterday.

—

My favorite part is Mat.

Because Mat is literally all of us.

Mat:

“So your wife is moving in?”

Pat:

“GET OUT.”

Mat:

“Those are matching mugs.”

Pat:

“SALE.”

Mat:

“You reorganized your entire life.”

Pat:

“SALE.”

Mat:

“You cleaned the bathroom three times.”

Pat:

“…SALE.”

😭😭😭

—

Meanwhile Kat:

“Pat, you didn’t have to do all this.”

Pat:

“You’re Kat.”

SOMEONE EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THAT MEANS.

Because apparently that’s Pat’s answer for EVERYTHING.

“Why did you prepare all this?”

“You’re Kat.”

“Why did you buy my favorite soap?”

“You’re Kat.”

“Why would you fight a bear for me?”

“You’re Kat.”

GIRL.

THAT IS NOT AN EXPLANATION.

😭

—

Anyway…

Roommates arc officially starts now.

One condo.

Two bedrooms.

One bathroom.

Two idiots.

Zero confessions.

See you in Chapter 21.

– tatine ♡