Chapter 20: Coming Home

Three weeks later, Grace stood in the doorway of their actual apartment, not a safe house or a temporary haven, as Max unpacked the last of the boxes they'd stowed during their forced absence. The familiar environment felt both the same and completely strange, as if she was viewing it with fresh eyes.

"The plant survived," she said, examining the small succulent on the windowsill that their neighbor, Mrs. Liv had been nurturing.

"I told you Mrs. Liv was reliable." Max looked up from the books he was organizing on the shelf. "She also left us a casserole in the freezer and approximately fifteen voicemails asking if we needed anything."

"She's been more worried about us than my own mother."

"Your mother doesn't know what happened."

"My mother doesn't know a lot of things." Grace approached to assist him with the books, noting that he had unintentionally organized them by height rather than content. Certain behaviors never change. "Will you be okay being back here? Where did it all start?

Max hesitated, holding a cookbook halfway up the shelf. "You mean where Derek's people broke in?"

"I mean, we discovered how we felt about each other. "Under the worst possible circumstances."

"The circumstances were terrible," he admitted. "But I can't regret what came out of them."

They worked in comfortable silence for a while, reestablishing their routines in the room that had become home for both of them. 

The afternoon light spilling through the windows felt different now—warmer, more welcome, as if the flat had adjusted to its new reality.

"Agent Santos called this morning," Max eventually explained. "Derek's taking the plea deal."

Grace put down the stack of magazines she had been sorting. "Twenty-five years?"

"With the chance of parole at fifteen. His associates are collaborating, therefore we will probably not have to testify in several trials."

"So it's really over."

"The legal part is done. Derek will be in federal jail until we reach middle age. His organization is dismantled. There's no one remaining who wants exact revenge on a man who helped put their boss behind bars eight years ago."

Grace examined his face, searching for indications of the anxiousness that had followed him for weeks. Instead, she discovered something that resembled peace. "How does that feel?"

"Like I can finally exhale." Max collapsed down heavily on the couch, looking tired. "I have waited eight years for the other shoe to drop. "I'm always looking over my shoulder, never feeling comfortable anywhere."

"And now?"

"Now I want to be really comfortable. With you. In our apartment. With our horrible coffee maker and your inability to properly load the dishwasher."

"I load the dishwasher perfectly."

"You put the plates facing the wrong direction."

"There's no wrong direction for plates!"

The familiar argument was like putting on comfortable clothing after weeks of wearing someone else's. Normal. Safe. Theirs.

Max grinned, the slow, sincere smile that had been infrequent throughout their experience. "We're really going to argue about dishwashers for the next fifty years, aren't we?"

"If we're lucky."

"Come here."

Grace sat by him on the couch, comfortably fitting into his side as if they have been doing this for years rather than weeks. The afternoon sun had rendered everything golden, and she could hear the typical sounds of their neighborhood: kids playing in the courtyard, Mrs. Livs's television, and the distant buzz of traffic.

"I have something to say," Max replied, his tone turning serious.

Grace’s stomach constricted. "What kind of something?"

"A restaurant called. "They want me back."

"That is fantastic! Isn't it?

"It is. They also offered me the post as sous chef. It's a promotion, but it entails more hours, increased responsibility, and less time at home."

"And you're worried about leaving me alone?"

"I am concerned about disturbing what we have. About getting so preoccupied with work that I forget to pay attention to us."

Grace turned to face him directly. "Max, a month ago you were convinced that your past would prevent you from having a regular relationship. Now you're afraid about appearing too normal?"

"Is that what I'm doing?"

"You are overthinking. Which, for the record, is just like you."

Max laughed. "Fair point."

"Accept the promotion. Work long hours. Create the career you want. I'll be here when you get home, possibly having filled the dishwasher incorrectly and prepared to dispute with you about it."

"What about your job?" "Are you writing?"

"I received an email from my editor yesterday. She wants to know if I'd like to write a book about surviving risky circumstances. Apparently, my recent experience lends me credence.

"You're going to write about what happened with Derek?"

"I am going to write about what transpired between us. How regular individuals muster incredible fortitude when they have something to preserve."

Max was quiet for a minute as he processed this. "Will you change our names?"

"Of course." Max Walker will transform into someone devastatingly attractive, like... Jake Harrison."

"Jake Harrison sounds like a soap opera character."

"Fine. "Brad Mitchell."

"Worse."

"You pick them."

"How about we keep the real names? Let people know that ordinary roommates may transform into remarkable companions when needed."

Grace felt a familiar rush in her chest……….the same feeling she'd felt when Max first kissed her, when she realized she was falling in love despite her best efforts to remain detached. "Are

you certain?"

I am sure. I spent eight years hiding from my past. I do not want to spend the next eight years hiding from my present."

"Our present."

"Our present."

They ordered Chinese takeaway from the restaurant down the street as twilight descended on the city, and they ate it while seated on the floor amid partially unpacked boxes. "Your patience will be rewarded" for Max and "Adventure awaits around the corner" for Grace were the amusing words on the fortune cookies.

Grace crumpled up her wealth and remarked, "I think we've had enough adventure for a while,"

Grace crumpled up her wealth and remarked, "I think we've had enough adventure for a while,"

"You speak for yourself. The challenge of figuring out how to make this work in the long run excites me.

"The relationship or the living situation?"

“Both.” Everything.

Later, for the first time in weeks, Grace saw Max go through his usual bedtime ritual as they got ready for bed in their own room: checking the locks, preparing the coffee maker for the morning, and getting his clothing ready for the next day. Something that could have been thankfulness tightened her chest at the domestic normalcy of it.

"Max?"

"Yeah?"

"When we first met, you said you were good at keeping your distance from people."

"Yes, I was. Too good.

"What changed?"

After giving this some thought while brushing his teeth, he turned to look at her. "You made it impossible for me to keep my distance after you moved in. 

You were everywhere: in the living room, where you left books open to indicate your location, in the kitchen, where you prepared awful coffee, and in talks that brought back memories of what it was like to desire someone to stay.

"And that scared you."

"I was terrified. However, it also helped me see that the life I had created to protect myself was merely a cage of sorts.

Grace marveled at how instinctive the move had become as she grabbed for his hand. "And now?"

"Now I think maybe the safest place to be is right here, with you, taking all the risks that matter."

Grace reflected on all the unexpected twists and turns that had lead them to this point as they climbed into bed together. 

A roommate situation that resulted in friendship. A friendship that grew into something deeper.

A crisis that could have crushed them, but instead revealed what they were willing to battle for.

Max would return to work tomorrow, and she would begin writing their story. They would bicker about housework and make plans for a future that seemed both exciting and secure. They would be average individuals going about their daily lives, and it would be just the adventure they needed.

In the darkness of their bedroom, surrounded by the comforting noises of home, Grace could feel Max breathing beside her. 

For the first time in weeks, none of them slept with one ear alert for danger. Tonight, they could simply relax in the confidence that they were exactly where they belonged.

The unexpected roommate had become the unavoidable companion. And their story was only beginning.