| Chapter Eight ~ Say Yes |

When we left, Noah was in the kitchen making coffee. Ethan walked over and chatted for a bit, but I went straight for the door, left the apartment, and waited by the elevator.

"I love this weather," he said, as we walked along the park.

"Still too hot for me,"

He looked at me. "You have a sweater and a coat on," he said. "Both mine, but the way."

"Too hot, I said,"

"Okay," he smiled. "It is pretty, though, isn't it? All the leaves falling?"

"You mean the foliage?" I said. "Such a weird word,"

"You and your words," he said. "Is it on the list?"

"Nah," I told him. "It's a crappy word. Only good ones are on the list,"

"I see," he grabbed my hand.

I looked at him for a good ten seconds.

"Why aren't you showering me with questions?"

"Huh?"

"Everyone is texting, calling, demanding I to go over every moment, every detail of what I saw. They want to know what she did, how she did it, why she did it, everything I had to do," I said. "Yet here you are, talking about the weather and my lists,"

He stopped walking and turned to face me.

"Do you want to keep being asked those questions?"

I couldn't help but stare.

He tilted his head and raised both brows.

"But...you're not them," I said. "I'd answer,"

"Is it bad I'm not asking?"

"It's the opposite,"

He chuckled. "Okay, I'm a bit confused now,"

"How you know, I guess is what I'm trying to understand,"

"Know what?"

"When to ask and when not to,"

"Ah," he said, taking my hand as we resumed walking. "Now that is—"

"One of your gifts?"

"No," he chuckled. "Not a gift, though I do have many," he said, smug. "I...I don't know, Tom. I think I just—"

I didn't let him finish. I just pulled his hand to me, making him stop walking, and once he was close enough I hugged him as tightly as I could.

One thing I always loved about him was that whenever I hugged him, he would turn his head and press his lips against my neck. That, and I truly think if I could, I'd be able to count the number of times he was the one to let go first.

"So, you'll text?" He asked, once we reached the building. "If you need anything?"

I nodded.

"Anything, Tom,"

"I will, baby," I told him. "I'll text,"

"Okay," he said, not wildly convinced.

"Don't think of me, though. You got cases you need to win,"

He scoffed. "Don't think of you?" He shook his head. "You're right. Your really are nuts,"

"I keep telling you!" I loudly said.

He grinned, but then he quickly turned serious.

Taking a single step toward, kissed me, and when he let me go he still had his eyes closed.

"Go. Be brilliant, Cooper," I quietly said. "Then, come back to me."

That got him to look different.

I watched as he walked backwards with this huge grin etched across his face, and stood there until well after he'd gone inside.

On my way home, I stopped at Noah's favorite bakery, to get him something to eat.

Something weird happened. As I walked out of the shop, I felt this sharp pain that felt as though it was coming from behind my left eye. It was horrible; so horrible that I had to stop walking, and even though it lasted for about a minute, it felt like it took a few months off my life.

That wasn't the weird part, though.

The weird thing was that just as it came out of nowhere and paralyzed me completely, it went away, just as swiftly.

I walked slowly to the apartment, taking double the time it would usually take me. Chalking it off to stress, because if there was one thing I could pretty much know for fucking certain was that I was holding so much shit in, that I would end up exploding at one point.

As I entered the apartment, Noah was talking on the phone, but was quick to end the call the moment I got there.

I took my shoes and jacket off, then went toward the couch and sat next him, placing the brown bag on his lap.

"What's this?" He asked, still hesitant.

Yes, hesitant. I'd decided to go with that instead of afraid, because I don't think I can live with my baby brother being afraid of me.

"Breakfast," I simply told him.

"It's half past one, Tommy,"

"It's a gesture, you dumbass," I said. "Besides, you need to eat,"

"Did you eat?" He asked.

I simply stared at him.

"Thanks," he said, breaking eye contact and grabbing a chocolate croissant.

"Who were you talking to?" I asked him, after a beat.

"Uh—" He took a huge bite and shrugged.

God, he has so much to learn.

"So, mom?"

He nodded, without looking at me.

"She was talking about Emma," he said. "The service is next week,"

"Is she going?"

"Yeah," he casually said, checking what else was in the bag. "Dad l, too. She wanted to know if I was,"

He looked at me.

"I said no," he said.

"You don't want to go?"

He scoffed. "After this morning?"

"What about this morning?"

He rolled his eyes.

"You mean Norma?" I asked.

"Of course I mean her," he told me. "What she did—"

"Has nothing to do with you," I finished his sentence.

He looked surprised.

"Say what now?" He loudly said.

Okay, maybe he wasn't as surprised as much as he was annoyed.

"She can't treat you like that, Tommy,"

"She's always treated us like that, Noah," I said. "But she's always been nice to you,"

"I don't care," he said. "It's so fucked up what she's doing,"

"I agree," I told him. "But, the guys? They're all...everyone is just sad, Noah,"

"I'm not talking about everyone, Tommy," he said. "I mean you. What she's doing to you,"

"You don't want to go?" I finally repeated.

"I just said—"

"I know what you said, that's not what I'm asking," I told him. "If she hadn't told us—or me—to stay away, would you still not go?"

"She did, though,"

"Noah,"

"She did!" he repeated. "I'm not going to pretend she didn't,"

"I'm not asking you to,"

"What are you asking me?"

"I just want to know if you're doing this because of me, or because of Emma,"

He frowned.

"Norma is horrible, we all know that," I said. "And I get people being angry because of what she's doing,"

"Wait a second, you're not angry?" He asked me. This time he really was surprised.

I shook my head. "Not really, no," I truthfully said.

"How?"

"Noah, I refuse to do what she does," I said. "This is not about her. She's gonna do her best to make it about her, but it's not. It's about Emma," I continued. "That's the only one who matters. Fuck Norma,"

"Are you telling me to go?"

"No," I said. "I'm telling you to not base your decision on her—or me. Think of Em, and if you feel like going is the right thing to do, go. If that's how you want to say goodbye, then do it. Say goodbye to her."

"And how are you going to say goodbye?"

"I dunno yet," I said. "But it certainly won't be at a funeral,"

For the first time, he actually allowed himself to look sad.

"I'm sorry about earlier. What I said to you," I told him. "All of this is just...a lot. Not that that's an excuse—"

"No, I deserved it," he said. "I was mean,"

"You were high," I pointed out. "And we will talk about that, by the way,"

"No, Tommy. I was really mean," he said, unable to look at me. "This thing with Emma," he took a long pause and just kept staring at the floor. "It's like him, all over again," he said, trying so hard not to cry.

I grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him in for a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Tommy." he whispered, quietly sobbing.

"It's okay, Noah," I told him. "We're okay."

My phone pinged, and Noah let go, sitting up straight and wiping his eyes.

[Ethan] 02:13 pm
Did you guys make up yet?

[Me] 02:13 pm
I think so

[Ethan] 02:14 pm
That's great!

[Ethan] 02:15 pm
I don't want to be here today 😔

[Me] 02:15 pm
Where do you wanna be

[Ethan] 02:16 pm
With the owner of this perfume I'm wearing <3

I smiled.

[Me] 02:18pm
Don't worry. He's waiting for you

[Ethan] 02:21pm
In bed, maybe?

[Me] 02:22 pm
ngl I'll prob be in bed

[Me] 02:22 pm
I had the weirdest migraine

[Ethan] 02:23 pm
really? Do you want me to get you something??

[Me] 02:25 pm
I'm just going to take some paracetamol. Don't worry about me

[Me] 02:26 pm
It's probably the lack of sleep/food

[Ethan] 02:27 pm
You sure?

[Me] 02:28 pm
Positive

[Ethan] 02:31 pm
Get a damp towel for your forehead and lie down. I think there's some in one of the drawers of the nightstand

Yeah, like I'm ever getting close to that again.

[Ethan] 02:31 pm
You need to rest

[Me] 02:33 pm
Will do

[Ethan] 02:35 pm
<3

"Are you two done flirting?" Noah asked.

I scoffed. "We're not. I just promised I'd reply. He's worried,"

"No shit," he said. "I've never seen him like this,"

"Like what?"

"Looking at you like that," he told me. "I mean, I'm used to the pining and the longing, but the look he's had since Emma? It's pure worry."

"Did you have class today?" I tried changing the subject.

"Nah,"

I scoffed. "Okay, let me rephrase it, then," I said. "Are you skipping class today?"

"Maybe?" he said.

"Okay, so what do you feel like having for lunch?" I asked. "Anything you want. My treat,"

"You're cooking?"

"Better. I'm buying,"

He squinted. "Anything I want?"

"Anything, bud,"

He smiled. Then, he chose the most expensive take out in town, the fucker.

•

When the food arrived, I was back to having that pain again. My head was absolutely killing me, so I didn't really eat, but rather, I made sure he did. Once he had, he went off to his dorm and I was able to, for the first time, alone.

I started sweating, and it wasn't even hot inside. So I went to the bathroom, took most of my clothes off, and just collapsed on the tiles.

It was night when Ethan got home.

I woke up with him stroking my hair. I couldn't remember how I got to bed.

"Hi..." I whispered, without opening my eyes.

"Hi, there," he said, and I could tell he was smiling.

"What time is it?" I tried to open my eyes. "Are the guys here yet?"

"No. No one's here," he said. "It's just you and me tonight,"

I looked at him.

"But...they were coming, weren't they? Did I dream that? Am I dreaming this?"

"You're still asleep, huh?"

"Kinda,"

He kissed my cheek. "I asked them not to come," he then said. "Told them I wanted to talk to you. Properly,"

"Oh?"

"Well, we haven't really had any alone time since everything happened, have we? Not really," he said.

I turned to my side and hugged him.

"You're a good man, Ethan,"

"Yeah?"

I nodded.

"How's your head?"

"Better," I told him. Tylenol did shit to help, but after a a while the pain just went away," I continued. "I do feel like I was run over by a truck, though,"

"So what do you need?" He he started listing. "Stay in bed? Watch something? Eat something?" He said. "Want me to shut up?"

I chuckled. "No. I don't want any of those things,"

"Okay, so just name it, and we'll do it,"

"I don't think I can have what I want. Not unless you bash me in the head or something of the sort,"

"I'm definitely not going to assault you," he told me. "But tell me what it is and maybe I can make it happen,"

"I want to stop closing my eyes and seeing her lying there," I said. "I want to...I want to just be able to think of anything but that day; focus on something else entirely...I tried grading papers, working on my thesis—nothing fucking helps," I continued.

He was quiet for a good minute.

"I, uh—I may be able to help with that,"

"I don't think sex will help tonight, baby,"

He laughed. "No, I—" he began. "I would be willing, don't get me wrong. But I didn't mean that,"

I looked up at him.

"What then?"

"Well..." he hesitated. "It would involve leaving both our bed and the apartment, and me taking you somewhere,"

"Where?"

"Can't tell you," he shook his head.

"Why not?"

"It's a surprise?" He looked at me. "I've been planning something, but I don't know if it's the right time," he explained. "I do think it would take your mind off things, though,"

"I'm in," I barely let him finish.

"Yeah? Ok, let me get out of this suit and we can leave in five minutes,"

"Don't do it here, though," I said, as he had gotten up and was unbuttoning his shirt.

"Why not?"

"'Cause then you'll take longer than five minutes," I said, just I could get him to smile.

Worked like a charm.

We drove around the city for a bit, mostly in silence. I swear I was trying to make it so my brain wouldn't sabotage that night, nor spoil whatever it was Ethan was trying to do. I just couldn't help that it was taking me an enormous amount of effort to keep myself present. I think he knew it, too. He kept looking at me, from time to time, never saying a word.

Then, I realized we were dangerously close to my old house.

"Where are we going?" I turned to him.

"You'll see," he cryptically said.

"I only ask because we are close to my parents'," I told him. "And if you're taking me there...well, breaking up wasn't what I meant when I told you I wanted to stop thinking about the last couple of days," I told him. "It would take my mind off things, sure, but I don't want that,"

He chuckled, eyes fixed on the road.

"Don't worry, that's not where we're going,"

I went back to looking out the window, mainly to make sure we would, eventually, move away from that neighborhood.

"Tell me again when you first saw me?" He asked.

"You already know,"

He looked at me. "Come on, babe. I'm trying to be romantic here, humor me," he said. "And I don't, actually. You always tell me parts of it, but I don't think you've ever told me the whole story,"

"Alright," I said.

"I mean, I've always assumed it was at the library,"

"No," I told him. "It was before that. Way before,"

He quickly made a right turn, and since we were no longer going in the wrong direction, I was able to focus properly.

"Remember when I told you about the deal I had with Dr—your mom?"

That will never stop being weird.

"About how when she discharged me and made me one of her crazy ones, she also made me swear I'd  never miss a session?"

"Remember? You broke up with me because of it,"

"I didn't break up with you,"

"Oh, no? What about all the months you ignored me?"

"We couldn't see each other after she found out. That wasn't—we weren't even officially dating or anything,"

"What?" He turned to me. "We were dating, Tom,"

"Well, yes, but it wasn't anything we'd talked about or—"

"You didn't give me the chance to," he said.

"So, this is you taking my mind off things? By pissing me off?"

He chuckled. "Would it work? 'Cause it's super fun,"

"Yes, but again, not the way to do it," I clicked my tongue.

He smiled. "I just want to hear about when you first saw me,"

I squinted. "As I was saying," I began. "Because of the deal I made with her, I would always get to her house early," I said. "Only, I never liked waiting inside and bumping into other patients. Or even running the risk of overhearing shit I didn't want to or just...shouldn't,"

"Makes sense,"

"So I'd wait at that coffee shop around the corner,"

"Oh, I used to go there all the time,"

"I know," I told him. "That's where I first saw you," I said. "Every time I had my appointment, you were there. Either reading something or writing something on your computer,"

"And I never saw you?" He asked. "Impossible."

"Maybe you did,"

"Tom, I had a crush on you for like, two years at that point. I would've noticed you there,"

I smiled. "Well, you didn't," I said. "But it wasn't until I started at Grant that I realized you were the guy from the coffee shop,"

"So, at the library..."

"I was already in trouble, yes,"

He smiled, then he slowed down and backed up into a parking space near a very familiar building.

"When did you start liking me?" he asked, turning off the ignition and looking at me.

"That I'll never tell," I smiled.

"Tease," he said, turning and exiting the car.

I did the same, still absolutely clueless.

"Come," he stretched out one hand for me to grab.

We crossed the street, went into the building and headed toward the elevator.

"Is your dad back in town?" I asked.

"Nope,"

"Ros, then?"

"No, they're both in LA,"

"So...who are we visiting?"

"Boy, you really have no patience, do you?"

I let out a deep sigh. "Fine, I'll shut up,"

When we got to the fourth floor, he told me to close my eyes.

"Why?" I asked.

"I need to go inside and get something ready first,"

"What?"

"You'll see,"

"Not with my eyes closed, I won't."

"Thomas?"

"Fine," I said, covering my eyes with one hand.

"Can you see anything?"

"Um, no?" I said.

"Alright, no cheating," he said, all excited.

I heard the lock, then something clatter in what sounded like a table or something. Then he walked back and grabbed me by the hand. "Come," he said, slowly guiding me inside.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now,"

Once I did, Ethan was standing in front of me. Behind him was the large, round wooden table at the entrance hall, just like I remembered. Then, he quickly moved to his right. That's when I saw a box had been placed at the very center of it. It was similar to the one I'd found in his dresser, but it was black, not red.

"What the fuck are you doing, Ethan?" I simply blurted out.

He chuckled. "Relax, I'm not proposing yet,"

What?

"Um, excuse me?" I asked, scared as fuck.

"You can't stand there forever, babe. Come," he said, and I made my way, ever so careful.

He closed the door and circled back so he would be at the other side of the table, looking at me as I looked at the box that was at the center of it.

"Come on, take it," he said. "But don't open it. Not just yet,"

I didn't even protest. I was too freaked out. I just reached for the box and held it in one hand, rubbing my thumb on the top of it.

"Follow me," he said, turning around and walking toward the hall.

That's when I noticed the only piece of furniture in the apartment was the table, for his footsteps echoed in a way that the sound would bounce from every corner, every wall.

My Super 8 kicked in immediately. Looking around the apartment, I could see us; all the times we'd spent together. I don't think there was a single room we hadn't made out or had sex in. Maybe that's why his dad and Ros left, since they did catch us more times than I would care to admit. Ros was always chill. His dad, on the other hand, was always...quiet.

In all our years together, I think the only time I had an actual conversation with the man was the night before I drove Ethan to Yale. And that was not a pleasant interaction, so I'd been trying to erase it, for Ethan's sake, ever since.

I followed him to the end of the long hallway, where his old bedroom was. It was also the only one with the door shut.

"Let me guess," I began. "There's another box in that room that is also mine, but I cannot open it either?"

He leaned his head against the door. "No, no box," he said. "Just...memory,"

"Memory?" I repeated. "You know, I think I've been a bad influence on you,"

He shook his head. "Never," he then said, opening the door and heading inside.

There was no furniture. It felt...odd. After we graduated, and before I went off to NYU, we spent pretty much weeks on end in this one room. Even after we started college and I rented a place with Jonas and Adam, whenever we wanted to be alone, we'd always escape to his dad's apartment, since he and Ros moved to the west coast pretty much right after Ethan left Grant.

I walked around a bit, eventually stopping where his bed used to be, leaning against the window that took up most of the wall, and sitting down with my back against it, watching him pace from one side to the other, suddenly looking nervous.

"Okay, I've no idea what is going on, but I'm just gonna roll with it," I said.

He just looked at me for a second, then resumed his march.

"You know," he finally spoke. "My dad got this place right after the divorce. I was—"

"Four," I said.

He smiled, but didn't look at me.

"For the longest time, it was just me and grandma Cooper," he said. "She'd stay with me every day, after picking me up from school, and would leave at night, after tucking me in," he continued. "But she had her own life, so...when I got older, during the summers she would travel with her friends or do other things, so I spent a lot of time alone,"

"What about your dad?"

"Never saw him," he said. "Only when it was time to take me to my mom's. I never really got to see her, either, since she'd always be at the hospital, or with her patients,"

"Yeah, sorry about that,"

He smiled again.

"Dean's parents didn't let him sleep over much, 'cause they knew my parents were barely home, so I would always go to his house," he frowned. "His family is not at all normal, but they are a family, you know? Two parents, brothers, sisters, pets of all kinds," he said. "Arguments, fighting, yelling...They were all super nice to me, but I always felt kinda bad, staying there,"

"Why?"

He shrugged.

"The way they treated him? Also, I knew I'd come back to one of two houses that had no one. Houses that were supposed to be homes, but that just made me feel...alone," he said.

Then, he stopped and turned to me, his back against the wall opposite from me.

"So, I stopped going," he said. "And then I got to an age where I could have more freedom to come and go as I pleased, so I'd walk around the city a lot, go to museums, the movies—which is why I make you suffer through our movie nights,"

"I love movie night," I said.

"I hated this place. And mom's," he ignored what I'd just said. "I hated feeling like I did. But I started swimming, going to meets, hanging out with friends...basically doing anything to avoid coming back here,"

"Ethan..."

"Then, I saw you," he said, taking such a deep breath I couldn't help but do the same. "Right there, at Grant. In my Lit class, no less,"

His expression changed completely.

"You know most of the rest of the story,"

"Most?"

"Mm," he hummed. "After I convinced you to start dating me—"

"Convinced me?"

He nodded, proudly. "And after the first time I brought you here...God, I just knew I had to do that as often as I could,"

I smiled. He looked so happy, saying that. Still nervous, but absolutely happy.

"You know why?" He then asked.

I shook my head.

"This place? This...room? It stopped being sad. It stopped making me feel lonely—you did that," he said. "I was finally feeling like this was more than just someone else's home, but rather, it started feeling like it could be mine, too. Even mom's, after I convinced you to get back together with me,"

"You do a lot of convincing, huh?"

He smiled. "Then, my dad moved and closed the place, I finished college and we got our own apartment, and...here we are,"

"Here we are," I repeated, still not understanding why we were where we were.

"About a month ago he called and said he was putting this place on the market. He decided he didn't want to come back to New York, so there was no point in keeping it," he said. "It felt...weird. Wrong, somehow, to sell it. Not when so many of my best days happened right here,"

"Not just yours," I said.

"Yeah?"

"There's a lot of us here, Ethan,"

"That's what I told him!" He excitedly said.

I don't know why I started squeezing the box in my hand after he said that.

"So, when he told me someone was interested in buying it I...I just..."

Suddenly my stomach started feeling weird.

"Ethan, what did you do?"

I felt a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. He sat down on the floor beside me, mirroring my earlier position.

"Open it," he said, tapping the box with his index finger.

I kept tracing the edges of the box.

I looked down and tried not to shake too much. Inside the box, there was a silver key.

"What the fuck did you do, Ethan?"

"I bought us my room," he proudly said, widening his arms as to show me.

"You bo—" I tried to say, suddenly lightheaded. "What?"

"To be fair, knowing the owner helped. The place was a steal," he said.

"Ethan, you are insane," I told him. "And this is me talking,"

He chuckled.

"So, you see. It's not a proposal, but I do want to ask you something," he said, taking my hand in his. "Wanna move in with me?" He and his dimples asked.

"What?" I was trying so hard to process everything. "We can't afford this place, Ethan, it's too much,"

"Yeah we can," he said. "I went over it with Marcy—"

"Marcy?"

"Yeah, I needed someone to help me sort out the financial part of it," he said. "She's really good. She actually found money I didn't even know I had,"

"But...buying an apartment..."

"Our lease is up in a while anyway," he said. "And, well, I know this is a bit large,"

"A bit? We can fit three of our place here,"

"But there are two spare rooms—the large one can be ours, and we can turn this one into an office for you to work without me distracting you,"

"I like you distracting me," I said. "I just...you have to tell me how much is my part. I have to check to see if I can afford it—I'm not sure I can,"

"Babe..." he pulled me closer and placed both hands on my face. "This isn't something you're buying,"

"It isn't?"

He shook his head.

"It's a present," he said. "My present. For our anniversary,"

"Ethan, I—," I looked up at him. "I didn't even get you anything. I just worked things out with Laura from your office so you'd be free next Friday and I could take you to the lake for a long weekend, just us," I told him, feeling borderline ashamed.

"You did?" He beamed.

It was as if I'd bought him an apartment.

"It doesn't even come close to this," I said. "But you've been so tired lately that I wanted to make sure you got some rest and could like, unwind,"

He kissed me. "That is the best present!" He said.

"Not compared to this," I quietly told him.

"Are you kidding me? A long weekend, just you and me?" He tried meeting my gaze. "Did you plan what we'd do? I bet you planned it,"

"Of course I planned it," I said. "You know I can't help myself,"

He grinned.

"What's the plan?"

"Well, I have to make it...more now, don't I?"

He grabbed my hand again and pulled me close. "What's the plan, Hart?" He asked, serious.

"I'll drive," I began. "We'll get there and either go for a swim or you know...do it later,"

"We'll probably do it later,"

I smiled.

"Then, we'll just be together. No TV, no phones, no distractions,"

"Oh, I love this already,"

"I'll cook, we'll eat outside, swim and just...be together as much as possible,"

He hugged me so tight it was as if I was giving him the moon.

"I want that," he whispered. "God, I need that..."

"Yeah?"

"Are you nuts?" He asked, pulling away, and I just tilted my head and raised both eyebrows. "That is the perfect gift, babe. Now I'm making plans already,"

"You are, huh?"

He nodded, smiling.

I pulled away. "You know, the master suite is bigger,"

"It is,"

"But..." I turned to him.

"What if we made that one into an office for the both of us, and took this room?"

He looked like a kid.

"Seriously?"

"I like this one better," I said. "This should be our room."

He watched me for the longest time.

"What?" I finally asked.

"You're amazing, that's what,"

I scoffed.

"So...does this mean..." he carefully said, suddenly unsure, which was so cute. "Is that a yes?"

"Of course it's a yes, Ethan," I smiled.

He quickly took two steps in my direction and hugged me again, not saying a word.

"Can I tell Marcy to give you the papers so you can sign?"

"Why do I have to sign anything?"

He scoffed. "Because this is yours? As much as it is mine?"

"No, no, no. That's not—"

"Too late, Tom. Your name is already on the deed,"

"Eth—"

He kissed me again. Basically to shut me up.

"Don't overthink this, Hart," he smiled. "Just...say yes."