A Love Like Ours

Epilogue

"This is the last of it," Michelle announced, holding two small plants that I'd bought yesterday. "Where do you want them?"

Mads looked from the dresser where she was folding and tucking away our clothes, to her mother, then to me—and smirked as she gave me a wink. "Ask Harry. Those are his purchases."

I grinned her way before looking at Michelle. "You can just leave them in here for now. I'll figure out where to put them later."

It was officially moving day. Mads had been bringing things into our New York flat for months, but today was the day where we each moved the rest of our stuff over. Of course, I didn't have too much, myself. Only some clothes, really, and whatever Madelyn and I had bought together. The rest was spread out between my house in L.A. and my house in London. But this... this was home now. This was where I would always want to be.

Mark and Will walked into the room, both sweaty and panting. "Just brought in the armchair." Mark said. "That's it for the furniture."

Michelle studied the two succulents she was still holding. "I think these would be nice in here. Maybe by the window." She walked over to where I was standing, trying to fit the linen curtains we'd purchased onto rods.

"Did you guys want me to run the dishwasher?" Emily asked, poking her head into our bedroom. "I put some of the bowls in there, but I didn't know if there was anything else you wanted to go through."

"No, you can run it," Mads said, folding one of my shirts. Emily headed back down the hallway.

"Do you need us for anything else?" Mark asked, his hands on his waist, dark patches of sweat on his navy blue t-shirt.

"Did you put the chair where I told you to?" Mads asked, pausing with another of my shirts in hand to look at her brothers.

"No, we brought it all the way up here to toss it out the window," Will said, crossing his arms.

Mads pressed her lips together even as I snorted a laugh, but before she could say anything to them (or to me), her mother interrupted.

"Madelyn, what is this?" Michelle asked, now at the nightstand Mads had claimed as hers when she'd piled it high with lotions and books and boxes still unopened. Michelle lifted the top off of a shoebox. "Why do you have these?"

I glanced over as Michelle rifled through the box, the curtain rod momentarily forgotten in my hands as the sound of clinking and clanking filled our bedroom.

"Mom, just..." Mads let out a sigh as she hurried around the bed toward her mother. "Just leave it alone."

"You need help getting these up?" Mark asked, and I only realized he was speaking to me when I felt the weight of the rod lessen at the other end.

But before I could say thank you, Michelle's next question sliced through my concentration. "Since when do you collect Snapple caps?"

I whipped my head around, the metallic sound now making sense, and my heart thumped a little erratically as Mads met my eye.

Only for a moment though. She blushed, smiled quickly, and took the top of the shoebox from her mother to fit it back on. "Mom, you don't have to start looking through everything now that we're done bringing it inside. You can head home if you want."

Mark made a sound low in his throat—something like a warning paired with amusement. His eyes were wide when I looked at him, and I smiled as he stepped up onto the ladder with the curtain rod—trying to prevent that smile from turning into laughter.