EPILOGUE: EIGHT MONTHS LATER
EVAN
I never thought this day would come. I’m sitting at my computer, paying the last payment on the final credit card. Once I hit submit, I will officially be debt free, except for my car payment. The sound of a key in the door grabs my attention. Glancing at the clock, I smile. Seven-fifteen. Isaac isn’t anything if not a man of his word. He said he’d be home by seven-fifteen and here he is.
“Hey, baby! How was practice?” I ask as Isaac closes the door and tosses his keys into the bowl.
“It was good,” he returns.
The first couple of months after Isaac came out last November were tough. The media ran with the story and people had alotof opinions. It ate away at Isaac at first, but with support from his teammates, his family, and me, he worked through it and soon realized the opinions of a bunch of strangers don’t matter.
Three days after the story broke, Mike called me. I didn’t answer, but I listened to the message he left. Basically, it wasalmost four minutes of him groveling and begging me to call him. As the message continued, his groveling turned to anger and there was another minute of his yelling and telling me Isaac would come to his senses and leave me. He was in full rage mode when voicemail cut him off. Apparently, there is a time limit. As soon as the message ended, I erased it and blocked Mike’s number. Something I should have done much sooner.
To add to the drama, Devante showed up at Isaac’s the next day. He still had the gate code, so we had no warning before Isaac opened the door. I stayed out of sight while Devante threatened to go to the media and tell them everything. Isaac encouraged him to do just that. There was nothing Devante could offer them that wasn’t already out or would paint Devante in a positive light. When that tactic didn’t work, Devante threatened to find me and tell me about their relationship, including the money and car. Isaac again encouraged Devante to tell me everything as he opened the door wider to reveal me standing behind it. Devante was in complete and utter shock when he realized I was there. I looked him in the eye and told the manipulative asshole I already knew everything. Then I slammed the door in his face, locked it, and took my man to bed. It was a glorious day and one I will remember for a long time. Getting the best of someone like Devante gave my ego a little boost.
Isaac and I moved in together three months ago. I was reluctant when he first asked me because I didn’t want to be a burden or have him feel like I was taking advantage of him. His house is paid for, and we split the other bills like electricity, gas, and groceries. He doesn’t want to take money for half the bills, but there is no way I’m letting him pay my way.
How was your day?”
“Come sit and I’ll show you.”
He drops into the seat next to me as I remove the folder I’m using as a makeshift partition revealing two glasses and a bottle of my most expensive bourbon, one I refused to open until this moment. I pour bourbon into each glass, hand him one and take the other for myself. Then I focus on the computer in front of me.
“What’s all this?” he asks.
“This,” I say as I move the cursor over the word submit, clicking the button on the screen, “Is my final credit card payment. I’m officially free of credit card debt.”
“What? Seriously? I’m so proud of you.” He plants a quick kiss on my lips.
“There’s more.” I tell him, pulling back from the kiss.
“More?” he questions.
I open a new screen, showing him the excel document he created last year for me. “If I use the money I’ve been spending on my credit cards to pay extra on my car, I will have it paid off before Thanksgiving.”
My phone dings with a text, alerting me that someone is at the gate. I press the button to let them in.
“That’s fantastic! Congratulations,” he says clinking his glass with mine. We each take a sip. “Damn that’s smooth.”
The doorbell rings and Isaac quirks an eyebrow at me, “Expecting company?” he asks.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Me, too, I need to grab something from the bedroom.”
We head in opposite directions, meeting back in the kitchen a few minutes later. I connect my speaker and start the boy-band playlist I created for him and crank it up as his eyes meet mine.
“What’s all this?” he asks, eyeing the bags of fast food.
“A celebration dinner.” He’s been working hard to eat better and I’m proud of his accomplishment. He hasn’tstopped at a drive-thru in almost four months. “Some of your favorites. You deserve a treat.”
“Damn, I love you,” he says, pulling me in for a hug then handing me a wrapped gift as he steps back. “I bought this a few months ago as a congratulations for when you were able to hit submit on that last payment.”
I tear into the package, revealing the eighteen-thousand-dollar bottle of bourbon I’ve been eyeing for the past three years.
“Oh, Isaac,” I breathe out. “This is too much.”
“No, it isn’t. You deserve it. You’ve cut every corner possible and worked your ass off to budget and pay off your debt. I know this year hasn’t been easy. I’m so freaking proud of you.”