Chapter 174
Emily's POV
The question should have been simple. Should've been automatic after everything we'd been through. But Ethan asked it anyway because he knew that trust for me wasn't a given—it was a choice I had to make over and over, and he was asking me to make it now.
"Always," I said, and watched something warm and bright move through his expression.
Twenty minutes later I was showered and dressed in jeans and hoodies that swallowed me whole, following him down to where Alex and Mason were already waiting by Alex's car. Mason was practically vibrating with poorly contained excitement, and Alex had that look he got when he was in on a secret and enjoying watching everyone else scramble to figure it out.
"You told them but not me?" I asked Ethan, who just grinned and opened the passenger door.
"Mason guessed. Alex has an unfair information advantage." He waited until I was settled before leaning in close, voice dropping low enough that only I could hear. "And I wanted to see your face when you figured it out."
The drive took thirty minutes, winding out of the downtown core into a neighborhood I recognized but had never spent much time in—tree-lined streets with actual yards, houses that looked like families lived in them instead of just people passing through. Alex pulled up in front of a two-story colonial with pale blue siding and white trim, flower beds that someone had recently mulched, and a front porch with enough space for furniture.
"This is beautiful," I said, because it was—the kind of house I used to pass on walks and imagine what it would be like to live somewhere that felt permanent. "Who lives here?"
Ethan got out without answering, coming around to my door and offering his hand. When I took it he pulled me close, wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, and pressed his mouth to my ear. "We do. If you want to."
My brain stuttered, trying to process the words into something that made sense. I turned in his arms to look at him, at the careful hope in his expression, and my heart started doing something complicated and uneven behind my ribs.
"What?"
"Come on." He took my hand and led me up the front walk, pulling keys from his pocket that caught the morning sun. Mason and Alex followed close enough that I could feel them behind me, solid and present, as Ethan unlocked the door and pushed it open.
The inside was empty but clean, light flooding through windows that someone had recently washed. Hardwood floors stretched through an open living room that flowed into a dining area, the kitchen visible beyond with white cabinets and stainless appliances that gleamed. Four doors led off the main hallway, and a staircase curved up to the second floor with a bannister that looked like it had been recently refinished.
"Four bedrooms down here," Ethan said, watching my face instead of the house as I slowly turned to take it in. "One for each of us if we need space. All of them have their own bathrooms." He moved past me into the kitchen, gesturing to the granite countertops and double oven. "Mason, you're gonna lose your mind when you see what I did in here."
But I couldn't focus on the kitchen or the bedrooms or any of it because my brain had snagged on the important part. "Ethan. Did you buy a house?"
"Yeah." He turned back to me, leaning against the counter with his hands braced behind him, and for the first time since we'd arrived he looked uncertain. "I know we didn't talk about it. I know it's fast and probably insane, but I couldn't stop thinking about it and I just—I wanted to give you this. Give us this."
Alex moved past me into the living room, running his hand along the wall like he was testing the paint quality. Mason stayed close to my side, quiet but present in the way he got when something felt too big to interrupt.
"Come upstairs," Ethan said quietly, and I followed him without thinking because my body knew what my brain hadn't caught up to yet—that this mattered. That whatever he wanted to show me on the second floor was the actual point of all this.
The upstairs hallway led to three empty rooms with fresh paint and new carpet, windows that looked out over the backyard where someone had planted trees that would give shade in a few years. Ethan stopped in the doorway of the largest one, hands shoved in his pockets, and when he spoke his voice had gone soft and careful.
"Nurseries," he said. "Three of them. One for each kid, if we want that. If you want that."
The words hit me like something physical, stealing the air from my lungs and replacing it with a feeling too complicated to name. I stared at the empty room and tried to imagine it filled with furniture and toys and all the evidence of lives that didn't exist yet but could—this whole house designed around a future I'd never let myself picture because picturing it felt like tempting fate.
"Ethan." My voice came out fractured, and I had to stop and try again. "You bought us a house with three nurseries."
"Yeah." He moved closer, catching my hand and threading our fingers together. "I know it's crazy. I know we haven't even talked about kids or marriage or any of the stuff people usually figure out before they buy real estate together. But I was lying in bed two nights ago with you asleep on my chest and Mason snoring on the other side and Alex taking up three-quarters of the mattress, and I just thought—this is it. This is what I want. Not someday, not eventually. Now."
I turned to look at him and found his expression completely open, no walls or careful control, just Ethan offering me something huge and terrifying and perfect. "You're serious."