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Gabriella stood in the middle of her new apartment, the key still clutched in her hand. It was small—just a one-bedroom with scuffed hardwood floors and a kitchen that doubled as a dining room—but it was hers.
For the first time in her life, she had her own space. No foster families, no shelters, no bunk beds or shared kitchens. Just a quiet, empty place waiting for her to fill it.
The savings from her candle business and her hotel job had been enough to cover the deposit and first month's rent, and she'd been careful to budget for furniture and essentials. Still, standing in the middle of the apartment, it felt surreal.
Later that day, Gabriella invited Zay over.
"You sure you don't want me to bring somethin'?" he asked over the phone.
"No, just you," she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips.
When Zay arrived, he walked in and stopped, looking around. "Yo, this is nice," he said, nodding approvingly.
"It's small," Gabriella said, shrugging.
"It's yours," Zay corrected, his tone firm. "That's big."
Gabriella smiled softly, his words hitting her harder than she expected.
They spent the afternoon unpacking boxes and assembling furniture. Zay insisted on putting together her thrifted coffee table, even though Gabriella could see he was struggling with the instructions.
"You sure you got this?" she teased.
"Man, don't play with me," Zay said, squinting at the diagram. "This table ain't gonna beat me."
Gabriella laughed for the first time in what felt like weeks. For a moment, things felt easy again.
When they were done, Zay sat back on the couch they'd pushed against the wall. "You proud of yourself yet?"
Gabriella looked around at the apartment, the scattered boxes, and the mismatched furniture. "Yeah," she said quietly. "I think I am."
Zay grinned. "Good. You should be."
That night, after Zay left, Gabriella sat on her couch and let the silence wash over her. For the first time, it wasn't lonely—it was peaceful.
She thought about how far she'd come in just a few months. From living in a shelter to running her own small business to finally having a place to call home.
But as much as she wanted to celebrate her progress, she couldn't ignore the questions still lingering about Zay. She appreciated his help, but his complicated past still hung over them like a shadow.
For now, though, she decided to push those thoughts aside. She'd built this life for herself, and no matter what happened, no one could take that away from her.
Gabriella grabbed her journal from a nearby box and opened it to a blank page. At the top, she wrote:
"Things I'm Grateful For"
She paused for a moment before writing the first entry. 1. A place of my own. 2. Zay, for believing in me.
