As soon as she decided he was okay with the rabbit, Alessa jerked her head toward the kitchen, wanting me to follow her.
"I, ah, I had no idea," she said, tone apologetic. "I understand if you don't want to have any animals in the house. I can keep her at my..."
"Stop," I interrupted. "It's fine. And I would really like it if you started to think of this as your place too," I told her. "I know we can't officially move all your shit in until Avi knows, but think of it as home, okay?"
"I do," she admitted in a low whisper, glancing back at Avi who was chasing the bunny down the hallway before pressing a hand to my stomach. "My apartment doesn't even feel like mine anymore," she added. "This is home."
"Ah, Less?" Avi called. "Josephine sort of, ah, pooped down the hallway," he said, shooting us both a horrified look.
"Yeah, we should probably crack open that crate Uncle Brio brought, and hope he got a litter box," Alessa said, shooting me a playful grimace.
We spent the whole morning and early afternoon together, setting up the rabbit's little home which included an enclosure made of see-through plastic panels, a litter box, a hideaway box, a bed, food and water dishes, and what had to be a hundred dollars worth of toys.
The rabbit was living large.
Brio had always been good at going over the top with shit.
I didn't even care that my kid and Brio hadn't cleared it with me first because I constantly caught Alessa shooting moon-eyes over at the bunny as she got to know her new enclosure.
I didn't give a fuck if I ended up horribly allergic, the woman was keeping that bunny.
We needed to go our separate ways for dinner, each going to our respective families.
"Now, you know the drill," Alessa said, standing out front of the apartment building. "You make sure you steal at least two pieces of each cake or pie to bring home," she said, giving Avi a firm look. "Don't disappoint me," she added, reaching out to rustle his hair, then when he was distracted, reaching to give my hand a squeeze.
We would end up eating some of those pies on the couch watching Christmas movies while Josephine hopped around the main area and Avi slept like a log after a long day full of a million gifts.
He had his hand clutched around his locket necklace, but his legs resting over Alessa's lap.
Perfect.
It was so fucking perfect.
Maybe it was soon to think it, but I wanted this exact scene year after year.
I wanted it forever.
Alessa - 5 months
Santi and I actually contacted a shrink to ask when it would be appropriate to tell Avi that we were dating.
She'd been only partially helpful, declaring it was different on a case-by case-basis. But she said it wouldn't be unheard of to have the discussion sometime between six months and a year.
Which felt like forever to us.
But we also knew it didn't change much except being able to show affection around Avi.
So we decided to aim for the six month mark, but were willing to wait longer if it seemed like Avi wasn't ready yet.
Those were issues for another day, though.
Because it was Avi's birthday that he'd been talking about endlessly for months. Like, the kid could talk. And as much as we loved him, we'd both started zoning out a bit when he prattled on about it since his ideas for the event changed whenever the wind blew.
Eventually, though, we'd gotten him to settle on a Coney Island birthday with a bunch of his friends followed by a big family dinner at our place.
Santi and I were regretting agreeing to both by the time we finished up at the amusement park, both of us exhausted with tired feet and aching heads.
But Avi was still wired and excited.
So we did what exhausted grown-ups had been doing since the beginning of time for the kids they loved.
We rallied.
We put on happy faces.
And we faked it.
We faked it hard.
Pinched, high-pitched voices and big smiles and enthusiastic ooh and ahh over each present he opened from our families.
We saw the sheet cake coming out as the home stretch, as a chance for the apartment to clear out, so we could get some peace and quiet. And maybe a couple drinks.
So we did the singing thing.
And we cheered when Avi blew out his candles.
"What'd you wish for, little man?" Brio asked, nudging Avi.
"He's not supposed to tell anyone," Salvatore griped.
"I wished that Dad and Less would stop pretending they don't love each other," the kid declared, making Santi choke on his sip of coffee, and my eyes damn near bulge out of my head.
There was a moment of shocked silence before Brio declared, "See, man, told you that you weren't fooling the kid."