Chapter 43
It’s a random Saturday night, the house quiet, settled in the kind of peace Charlie used to think he’d never get back. Remy is already fast asleep in his room, his nightlight casting soft shadows along the walls. And beside him, warm and solid and safe, Nick rests in their bed, his breaths steady, his presence grounding.
Two months.
It’s been two months since the court date. Two months since Charlie won full custody of Remy, securing his son’s safety once and for all. Two months of a life that, while not always easy, has been undeniably theirs.
Things have been good. Better than good.
Just last week, Ben was sentenced—two years in prison without parole. Two years where Charlie could finally breathe without the constant fear of looking over his shoulder. The school has a new principal now, one who keeps things professional, and Nick finally feels like he can settle back into his job without walking on eggshells.
Nick, in general, is doing better. He still visits Justin twice a week, and the therapy seems to be helping. He’s been less hesitant around Remy, more confident in the quiet ways he fits into their little family, and Remy, for his part, takes in every bit of Nick’s presence like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
So when, in the dead of night, with nothing but the hush of the house and the warmth of their bodies tangled beneath the covers, Nick suddenly asks, “Am I too much?”—Charlie doesn’t know what to think.
It’s so unexpected, so out of place in the calm of everything they’ve built, that for a moment, Charlie just blinks up at the ceiling, processing.
Because after everything—the long nights, the courtroom battles, the quiet reassurances whispered between kisses, the healing they’ve both been clawing their way toward—how could Nick still believe that?
How could he not see that he’s the best damn thing to ever happen to Charlie?
Charlie glances over at Nick, frowning at the way he shifts uncomfortably, his fingers tugging at a loose thread on the comforter. "What?" he asks, voice soft but confused.
Nick exhales slowly, like he’s trying to gather his thoughts before speaking. "Am I too much?" he finally asks, barely above a whisper. "I just... I don’t want to overstay my welcome."
Charlie blinks, taken aback. "Welcome? Nick, what are you even talking about?"
Nick sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean... this house. It’s yours, Charlie. Not mine. And I just— I’m here all the time. I’m not on the lease. I’m not paying bills. I’m just... here." He shrugs, eyes darting away as he adds, "And that’s not really fair to you."
Charlie shakes his head, shifting so he’s fully facing Nick now. "Nick, come on. That’s not— That’s not how this works. You’re over here all the time because I want you to be. Because Remy wants you to be. This house is as much yours as it is mine."
Nick doesn’t look convinced. He presses his lips together before muttering, "That’s unfair to you, though. I mean, I love being here, but I don’t ever want to take advantage of you. You deserve space, time for yourself, time to work without me just... constantly here."
Charlie furrows his brows. "Nick, where is this even coming from? We’ve been together for months now, and you’ve never said anything about feeling this way. Why now?"
Nick hesitates, his shoulders tensing before he finally exhales, shaking his head. "I don’t know... I guess—" He pauses, running a hand through his hair before sighing. "I mean, New Year’s is right around the corner. Christmas, too. And I think with the holidays coming up, it’s just… making me anxious." He shrugs, trying to downplay the weight of his words. "The colder seasons always make me worried. I mean, you saw how I was a few months back, once the weather started to change. How I struggled with Otis’ death, another anniversary without him. And I guess now that the anniversary has passed, and we’re moving into another set of holidays without him, it’s just… I don’t know. I worry."
Charlie softens immediately, reaching for Nick’s hand, grounding him. "Hey," he murmurs. "You don’t have to do this alone, you know. You don’t have to pretend like you’re fine if you’re not."
Nick lets out a shaky breath, gripping Charlie’s hand tightly like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. "I know. I just... I don’t want to be a burden."
Charlie squeezes his hand. "Nick, you’re not a burden. You never have been. You’re my person, okay? And whether it’s summer or winter, whether it’s an anniversary or a regular Tuesday, I want you here. Always."
Nick looks up at him then, something unreadable in his gaze, and Charlie watches as the tension in his shoulders slowly starts to ease.
"Okay," Nick whispers, and Charlie knows it’s not a perfect fix.
"Nick," Charlie says softly, reaching out to brush a hand down Nick’s arm. "Please talk to me. What's going on? Where is this coming from? I can see that there are thoughts rolling around in your mind, and you're keeping them at bay. I'm your boyfriend. Talk to me. Please."
Nick exhales sharply, shifting onto his back so he can look up at Charlie. There’s hesitation in his eyes, a flicker of something Charlie doesn’t quite recognize, and when he speaks, his voice is quieter than usual.
"I just..." Nick hesitates, pressing his lips together before continuing. "I just really want to make sure that... that we’re okay. That we’re gonna be okay."
Charlie frowns, concern twisting in his chest. "Did you assume we wouldn’t be?"
Nick shakes his head quickly. "No, no, it's not that. I just..." He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "I've never really had anyone here to celebrate the holidays with. Not since Otis."
Charlie stays quiet, giving him space to continue.
"I would always go back home with my mom, but David... he kind of ignored the holidays, and as the years passed, I just... I don’t know. I think I got colder. I struggle with it every year, and I guess I just—I want to make sure that I’m not being too much." His voice wavers slightly. "I don’t want to overwhelm you."
Charlie’s heart clenches at the vulnerability in Nick’s words. "Nick," he says, voice firm but gentle, "has someone told you before that you’re too much?"
Nick hesitates. "I mean... I guess. My ex, he—he said I can be a bit too much. That I ask for too much attention or too much intimacy. And I just—I don’t want you to feel like that, Charlie. I don’t want to make you feel like you’re trapped."
Charlie shakes his head immediately, leaning in closer. "Nick, I don’t feel trapped. I promise you, I know what trapped feels like, and this—this isn’t it." He exhales, softening his voice. "I’m really excited for Christmas with you and Remy. And I’m also really excited to meet your mom. That’s still the plan, right?"
Nick nods quickly. "Yeah, yeah, it is still the plan." He swallows, eyes flickering away for a second before meeting Charlie’s again. "I just... if you ever feel like you need space, just let me know, okay? Don’t let it build up into something bigger. Please don’t let it turn into a breakup. I don’t—I don’t want to be blindsided again."
Charlie’s chest aches at that, at the quiet, fearful plea in Nick’s voice. He reaches for Nick’s hand, threading their fingers together and squeezing gently. "Nick, if I ever need space, I’ll tell you. But needing space doesn’t mean I’m kicking you out. If you want to stay the night here, you can stay the night here. If I need space, I can get it in the living room, or you can take the living room and I’ll stay here. But I won’t just... push you away."
Nick swallows hard, his grip tightening around Charlie’s hand.
"And I also want to make sure you know that you can leave at any time," Charlie continues. "If you ever want to go back to your apartment for a few days, if you need to rest or grab clothes or just be in your own space, let me know. I don’t want you to feel stuck, either. We haven’t really talked about the whole living situation yet, and I know we’ll have to eventually, but..." Charlie smiles, lifting Nick’s hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. "Right now, I kind of just like it being... whatever this is."
Nick exhales slowly, his body relaxing slightly beneath Charlie’s touch. "Yeah," he murmurs, voice softer now. "Yeah, me too."
Charlie leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to Nick’s forehead before settling against him, letting their bodies fit together like they were always meant to.
Charlie grins as he leans in, voice playful as he asks, “So, are you going to tell me what you got me for Christmas?”
Nick snorts, shaking his head. “No, Charlie. There’s a reason it’s wrapped under the tree right now. You don’t just tell people what you got them for Christmas.”
Charlie huffs dramatically, crossing his arms. “Ah, but unwrapping it isn’t fun when I don’t know what it is. I don’t like surprises.”
Nick’s brow arches, a slow, knowing smile curling at his lips. “You don’t like surprises?”
“No,” Charlie insists, tilting his head. “Do I look like someone who likes surprises?”
Nick hums, pretending to consider it. “Yes.”
Charlie gasps, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Excuse me?”
Nick chuckles. “Charlie, I love you. I really do. But let’s be honest here—you wear sweaters and jeans and Converse every day, you write books for a living, and you get ridiculously excited over the smallest things. You absolutely look like someone who loves surprises.”
Charlie narrows his eyes, pointing a finger at him. “Okay, fine. I see how it is.”
Nick smirks, arms crossing over his chest. “It’s not a bad thing that you give off major Remus Lupin energy, by the way. I actually find it adorable. But I’m just saying… you seem like the kind of person who would love a surprise.”
Charlie glares at him, unimpressed. “If you’re trying to gaslight me into liking surprises, it’s not going to work.”
“I’m not trying to gaslight you,” he says, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well—maybe a little. I just… I want you to like my gift, and if you really hate surprises, I don’t want you to feel forced to pretend to be excited when you open it.”
Charlie exhales through his nose, eyeing him suspiciously. “So you’re telling me it’s a gift that could potentially make me not excited?”
Nick grins. “I’m telling you it’s a gift that will make you lose your mind.”
Charlie’s lips twitch, fighting a smile. “I hate you.”
Nick kisses his forehead. “You love me.”
Charlie sighs dramatically. “Unfortunately.”
Nick chuckles, squeezing his waist and drawing him closer. “So you do like surprises.”
Charlie groans, dropping his head against Nick’s shoulder. “I’m ignoring you now.”
It’s been two months.
Two months of teasing, of stolen kisses in kitchens and whispered laughter under shared blankets. Two months of falling asleep together more often than not, of waking up tangled in warmth that feels more like home than anything Charlie has ever known.
Two months of something real. Something steady. Something that isn’t fleeting or fragile, but solid and certain in a way that relationships never have been for him before. This isn’t some childish crush, some head-over-heels tumble into infatuation. This is built piece by piece, through late-night talks and quiet reassurances, through coffee made just how the other likes it and playful arguments over tea steeping times. Through small, domestic battles—like whether coffee at 8 p.m. is an abomination or a necessity—but never anything that shakes the foundation they’ve built.
It’s been good. It’s been so good.
Good for Charlie, who has finally settled into a routine again, finding joy in publishing his work without the lingering weight of fear pressing down on him. Good for Nick, who has returned to his students, to his passion, without the suffocating worry of losing everything. Good for Remy, who, after weeks of hesitation, has fully accepted Charlie again, loving him without fear, trusting him without question—who now runs into Nick’s classroom each morning with that same boundless energy, excited to learn, to grow, to be.
And Charlie… Charlie wonders, for the first time in years, if maybe—just maybe—the rest of his life could be like this.
If the laughter, the warmth, the quiet certainty of love, could last.
“So,” he starts, voice soft but teasing, “what are your thoughts on marriage?”
Nick lets out a dramatic sigh, flopping onto his back with exaggerated effort. “I thought you said you were ignoring me.”
Charlie smirks, resting his chin on Nick’s shoulder. “Hmm, I never said for how long.”
Nick huffs a small laugh. “You lasted maybe a minute.”
Charlie gasps, feigning offense. “Oh, okay. Well, now you’re just avoiding the question.”
Nick stretches, considering, before shrugging slightly. “I mean, I don’t know. I think I’d love marriage, in theory.” He pauses, tilting his head to look at Charlie. “But my family doesn’t exactly have the best track record. You haven’t met David, but you’ve heard plenty. And my parents—God, their divorce was a mess. I guess I just never grew up seeing it as this perfect, happily-ever-after thing. Sometimes I wonder if it’s even in the cards for me.”
Charlie studies him for a second before murmuring, “Do you not think it’s in the cards for you because of your past? Or… because of me?”
Nick turns, brows furrowing. “Charlie, no. It’s not because of you.” His voice is firm, unwavering, as he continues, “I really do want to get married someday. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even next year, but… yeah. I think I could see myself settling down, sharing a life, building something real. Maybe when we’ve been dating for a while, when we have a place that feels like ours. When it makes sense. When it’s right.”
He nudges Charlie’s cheek with his nose, voice softer now. “Could you see yourself getting married again?”
Charlie hesitates, chewing his lip before exhaling slowly. “I don’t really like to count my first marriage as a marriage at all,” he admits. “Not in the way that matters. It was never equal. It never felt like a partnership. I think… I think marriage is meant to be about two people choosing each other, standing beside each other as equals, and I never had that with Ben. It wasn’t love, not really. It was control. It was obligation. It was… something I had to survive.”
Nick stays quiet, listening, giving him space.
Charlie shifts, resting a hand against Nick’s chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart beneath his palm. “So yes,” he says finally, voice a little steadier now. “I would like to get married. I’d like to know what it feels like to be in a real marriage. A healthy one. Not… whatever Ben and I had.”
Nick’s fingers find his, threading their hands together. “You’ll have that,” he murmurs, squeezing gently. “One day. If that’s what you want.”
Charlie lets out a small laugh, pressing his face into Nick’s shoulder. “You say that like you’re making a promise.”
Nick smiles against his hair. “Maybe I am.”
The more Charlie thinks about it, the more the idea of marrying Nick feels like something out of a dream—something warm, safe, and so incredibly right. It’s everything he’s longed for, everything he’s spent years convincing himself he would never have. A partner who loves him, who protects him, who sacrifices for him without hesitation. A home that doesn’t feel like a cage. A son who is happy and growing, a life that feels stable and good.
He’s found a place where he is accepted, where he is loved—not just by Nick, but by a community that sees him, that values him. He has friends who would go to war for him, a family of choice that makes him feel whole. And yet, for as beautiful as the idea of forever with Nick is, Charlie knows there are still pieces of himself he needs to mend before he can fully embrace that future.
There are ghosts he still needs to put to rest.
He wants to be ready, not just for marriage but for everything that comes with it. And part of that means facing things he’s been running from for years. His relationship with his parents, for one. He does love them—he’s always loved them. But he hasn’t spoken to them in so long, too stubborn to listen when they warned him about Ben. Too naive to see that they weren’t trying to control him, but protect him. That they saw the warning signs long before he ever did. And now, knowing they were right all along, he wants to try again. He wants to rebuild that bridge.
So yes, marriage with Nick sounds like everything he’s ever wanted. But before Nick gets down on one knee—or before Charlie does, because he just might—he needs to make peace with his past. He needs to grow a little more, heal a little more. Because when he finally says yes, he wants to be able to step into that future without hesitation, without fear.
And when that day comes, he knows with absolute certainty that it will be the easiest yes of his life.