Lease, Love, and Bad Decisions
Kids, one day you're sharing a tiny apartment with your best friend, eating ramen and watching late-night movies.
The next, you're realizing that every "forever" arrangement has an expiration date.
Sometimes that expiration date comes with wedding invitations.
Sometimes it comes with swords.
---
It started with a box.
Not a big one. Not some dramatic, cinematic trunk. Just a medium-sized cardboard box with a strip of blue tape across the top.
Lily set it down in the middle of the living room like a declaration of war.
"There," she said. "That's the last of it."
Marshall, standing behind her, looked at me with the sheepish pride of a Labrador that had dragged home a couch.
"Our first 'we live here now' box," he said.
I looked at the box.
At the already-crowded bookshelves.
At the shoes by the door that were now not just Marshall's scattered sneakers, but Lily's boots and flats and one pair of heels that looked like torture devices.
Objectively, nothing major had changed.
Subjectively, everything had.
"Great," I said, aiming for cheerful and landing somewhere near "recently concussed."
Lily dusted off her hands.
"Don't worry, Ted," she said. "I'm not going to invade your space. I'll just tuck a couple of my things in the closet, add some art, maybe a plant, maybe a few more pillows—"
Nox, sprawled on the arm of the couch with a cup of coffee, snorted.
"'A couple of things,'" he said. "That's how it starts. Next thing you know, the bathroom has seventeen products and a fern."
"We already have a fern," I said.
"You have a hostage in a pot," he said. "It's not thriving, it's enduring."
Lily put a hand on her hip.
"You got a problem with me moving in, Nox?" she asked.
He held up his free hand.
"Not at all," he said. "I like you here. You balance Ted's neurosis and Marshall's unregulated enthusiasm. I'm just saying: this place is now officially zoned as a couple's habitat. The zoning board should be notified."
Marshall grinned, slipping an arm around Lily.
"I like the sound of that," he said. "Our place."
Our place.
The words hit me in the chest, then slid sideways, looking for somewhere to land.
It was still my place, too. Technically.
But lately, "our" had started to feel less like "mine and Marshall's" and more like "theirs."
Future Me sighed.
Kids, that's something you don't really think about when you move in with your best friend right out of college.
You don't plan for what happens when someone else becomes their "home."
---
Later that week, we were at MacLaren's.
The usual booth: Marshall and Lily squeezed together on one side, Robin and Barney on the other. Nox sat sideways at the end, back against the wood, long legs stretched out like he'd been poured there.
"So then," Lily was saying, "I told my students, 'Art is about expressing yourselves,' and one of them dipped his entire hand in glitter glue and slapped it on my skirt."
"Is that why you had sparkles on your socks?" Marshall asked.
"You noticed," she said, kissing his cheek.
I stirred my drink, trying not to flinch at the "couple bubble" they'd built around themselves.
Robin caught my eye.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be okay?"
Barney leaned in.
"When someone says, 'Why wouldn't I be okay,'" he said, "they are contractually obligated to be not okay."
"TEDDY'S IN CRISIS," Nox announced, raising his glass. "Who had Wednesday in the pool?"
"I'm fine," I repeated. "Lily's fully moved in now. That's all. New era. New dynamic. Lots of… new."
Robin smiled.
"That's good, though, right?" she said. "I mean, you love Lily. Now she's just… around more."
"Exactly," Marshall said. "It's like my two favorite people live with me. It's the best part of a sitcom without the laugh track."
"You are the laugh track," Nox told him.
Lily frowned thoughtfully.
"How's it been for you, really?" she asked me. "If anything's bugging you, I want to know."
I hesitated.
How was it?
It was…
Her hair in the sink.
Her shoes in the hall.
Her voice in the morning.
Their giggles from behind Marshall's bedroom door.
It wasn't bad. It just wasn't… the apartment I'd built in my head.
"It's fine," I said. "We're just… adjusting. It's a little crowded, that's all."
Barney scoffed.
"You think you're crowded?" he said. "I once shared a studio apartment with a model, three suitcases, and her pet iguana. You wanna talk about territorial? Try arguing with a reptile over who gets the warm spot."
Everyone stared at him.
"What?" he said. "We were young."
Robin sipped her drink.
"Have you thought about moving out?" she asked.
The table quieted.
"What?" I asked.
"Not in a bad way," she said quickly. "Just… Marshall and Lily are obviously heading toward the whole 'cohabitation, marriage, shared Netflix account' thing. Eventually they're going to want a place that's just theirs. Maybe you should start thinking about getting your own."
My stomach dipped.
"This is my place," I said.
"Well, technically it's the landlord's," Nox said. "But I get the sentiment."
"I helped pick that apartment," I went on. "I chose the neighborhood. The layout. The roof access. Marshall didn't even know what 'southern exposure' was until I explained it to him."
"I thought it meant the neighbors wouldn't wear pants," Marshall admitted.
"All I'm saying," Robin said gently, "is maybe it's time to think about what you want, independent of Marshall's life choices."
"Yeah," Lily agreed, surprising me. "I mean, we don't want you to feel… pushed out."
"We love you," Marshall said. "And we want you to be happy. In the apartment with us. For now. But also, at some point… you might want your own thing."
They were being honest. Mature. Reasonable.
I hated it.
"So what," I said. "They just take the place and I go… where? Back to my parents' house? Into Barney's sex guest room?"
Barney perked up.
"We do have excellent amenities," he said. "Flexible sleeping options, state-of-the-art sound system, no judgments."
"No," I said flatly.
Nox tilted his head.
"You could always crash at my place for a bit," he said. "I've got room."
"And by 'room,'" Barney muttered, "he means 'a spare wing.'"
I shot Nox a look.
"I am not living off my little brother's billionaire couch," I said. "I'm an adult."
"Adults are allowed to accept couches," he said. "Especially if they helped their younger sibling survive adolescence in Ohio."
"You survived Ohio by sheer spite," I said. "I just drove you to chess club."
Robin laughed.
"Still," she said. "You might want to start looking. Just in case."
I thought about it.
Me. In some new place. Alone. No Marshall. No Lily. No familiar grooves in the couch where we'd all fallen asleep watching movies.
"Yeah," I said finally. "Maybe. I'll… think about it."
Future Me cleared his throat.
Kids, I did not just "think about it."
I overthought it. Hard.
---
A couple nights later, I came home with groceries.
The apartment was different.
Nothing huge. Just… rearranged.
The couch had been angled. A new lamp sat in the corner. There was a throw blanket draped over the back of the chair that I had definitely not bought.
"Hello?" I called.
"In here!" Lily's voice floated from the kitchen.
I walked in to find her halfway up on the counter, reaching into a cabinet.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Organizing," she said. "You guys had three spatulas and no system. I'm fixing it."
On the table, there were labeled piles.
"Plates," "Bowls," "Cute Mugs," "Weird Mugs."
"You made a mug classification system?" I asked.
"Someone had to," she said. "This one has a chip, this one has a cartoon construction worker, and this one, Ted, literally just says 'WORLD'S OKAYEST MAN.'"
"I like that one," I said.
"Of course you do," she muttered.
Marshall wandered in, tie loose, eyes warm.
"Hey, dude," he said. "How was work?"
"Fine," I said. "What… happened here?"
Lily hopped down.
"Just making it more… homey," she said. "For all of us."
I forced a smile.
"Yeah," I said. "Homey."
Nox chose that moment to step out of the bathroom, towel around his shoulders, hair damp.
"By the way," he said, "the new shower caddy is already a war crime. There are at least fourteen bottles in there that start with 'revitalizing.'"
"They're mine," Lily called. "Welcome to hair care, Nox."
He came into the kitchen, clocked my face.
"Uh-oh," he said. "You've got the 'I came home and my stuff has been moved' expression. That's one step down from the 'there's a guy in my bathrobe' expression."
"It's just… a lot of change," I said. "All at once."
Lily's smile faltered.
"Do you want me to put things back?" she asked quickly. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
I shook my head immediately.
"No, no," I said. "It's fine. It looks good. Really. It's just… different."
Marshall slung an arm around me.
"Hey, man," he said. "We'll make this work. We always do. Roomies forever, right?"
He meant it. He really did.
But right behind his words, I could hear Robin's:
Have you thought about moving out?
And underneath that, a quieter, sharper thought:
If they had to choose, they'd pick each other.
As they should.
Which didn't make it hurt less.
---
The next day at MacLaren's, I unloaded.
"…and there were labels," I said. "She labeled the mugs. The mugs, Nox."
Robin stirred her drink.
"That's not a crime," she said. "That's organization."
"It's invasive," I said. "We have a system."
"What's your system?" she asked.
"We keep things where they've always been," I said. "That's the system."
Barney shook his head.
"This is what happens when you let commitment inside your walls," he said. "First it's pillows and hair products, next thing you know your Xbox is on a shelf and your underwear is folded into shapes."
"Underwear folding sounds nice," Nox said. "You're just messy."
"This isn't about dishes," I insisted. "It's about… territory. They're nesting. I'm…" I waved vaguely. "Leftover."
Robin leaned forward.
"Ted," she said gently, "you know what this is, right? Marshall and Lily taking the next step. Together."
"I know," I said. "I'm happy for them. I am. I just… thought maybe we had more time before everything changed."
"That's not how life works," Nox said. "There's no sign that says 'change ahead.' It just does. That's the whole scam."
"We're talking about an apartment," I said. "Not death."
"Same energy," he said.
Lily and Marshall arrived then, sliding into the booth.
"Hey, guys," Lily said. "What's up?"
"Territorial angst," Nox answered. "Welcome to the summit."
Lily's brows knit.
"Ted," she said. "Are you… upset about the kitchen stuff?"
I opened my mouth to say no.
What came out was:
"I feel like I don't live there anymore."
That shut everyone up.
"Ted—" Marshall started.
"It's fine, it's fine," I said quickly. "I'm being dramatic. We're all adults. This is what happens. People move forward. They make space for each other."
"And we want to make space for you too," Lily said. "We don't want you to feel like a guest in your own home."
"But I kind of do," I admitted. "Like I'm… crashing on your couch instead of you crashing on mine."
They exchanged a look.
Robin inhaled.
"Okay, I'm just gonna say it," she said. "Maybe it is time for you to get your own place. For real."
Lily winced.
"We were going to bring it up more gently," she said.
Marshall nodded, looking miserable.
"We love you, Ted," he said quickly. "You're my best friend. You're family. But… we've been talking. And… we kind of like the idea of just… us. In that apartment. As our first place."
The words landed like a punch I knew was coming but hadn't braced for properly.
"So you're… kicking me out," I said.
"No!" Lily said. "No, no, no. Not kicking. Suggesting."
"Encouraging," Marshall said. "Supportively."
"We'd help you find somewhere," Lily added. "We'd help you move. You can come over anytime. We just…"
She looked at Marshall.
"We want to build something that's ours," she finished softly.
Barney took a strategic sip of his drink.
Nox watched me.
"Ted," Robin said carefully, "you knew this was coming eventually."
"Yeah," I said. "Eventually. Like… in the future. When we all have flying cars and robot arms. Not… now."
My throat felt tight.
"This is my place," I said again, more to myself than to them. "We picked it together."
"And we're not erasing that," Marshall said earnestly. "You'll always be part of the story of that apartment."
Nox made a face, but didn't comment.
I stared at the table.
"Just… give me some time," I said finally. "To wrap my head around it. Okay?"
Lily reached for my hand.
"Of course," she said. "We don't want to hurt you, Ted."
I nodded stiffly.
"I'm happy for you guys," I said. "Seriously. I just… need to figure out where I fit now."
---
Later, back at the apartment, it was just me and Nox.
The others had scattered—Lily to lesson planning, Marshall to study, Robin to work, Barney to pollute the dating pool.
I stood in the doorway of my bedroom, looking at my stuff.
The bed. The desk. The lamp I'd convinced myself was "architect chic" and everyone else called "the interrogation light."
"Who gets the room?" I asked.
Nox was lounging in the hallway, shoulder against the wall.
"They do," he said. "Obviously."
I sighed.
"I know," I said. "I just… thought this was my origin story apartment, you know? The one I'd tell the kids about. 'I lived here with Marshall, we had crazy adventures, then Robin moved in and—'"
"You're narrating the future again," he cut in. "You don't even know how this story goes and you're already doing the recap."
I rubbed my face.
"Help me out here," I said. "Brutally honest little brother mode. No salt spared."
"Always," he said.
He pushed off the wall and came to stand beside me.
"Here's what's happening," he said. "You and Marshall built a life together here. Now he's building another life with Lily. That doesn't erase what you had. It just… adds another layer."
"Feels like it erases it," I muttered.
"It doesn't," he said. "Your memories aren't furniture. They don't get tossed out with the futon."
I exhaled.
"So what do I do?" I asked.
"Step one," he said. "Accept that this hurts and you're allowed to be mad and sad and all the things."
"Step two?"
"Don't turn this into a custody battle over drywall," he said. "You love these people. Don't nuke your friendships because your ego doesn't fit in the lease."
"That's… vivid," I said.
"And step three," he added, "actually start looking for a place. Not because they pushed you. Because you're ready to build a space that's yours."
"With my own terrible mug system," I said.
"With your own terrible mug system," he agreed.
I leaned against the doorframe.
"What if I'm not ready?" I asked.
He shrugged.
"You weren't ready to throw three parties for Robin, and you did it anyway," he said. "Readiness is overrated. You figure it out as you go."
I huffed a laugh.
"You ever think about moving?" I asked. "Like… out of your fancy tech lair. Start over somewhere you're not the CEO."
He snorted.
"I solved that by making my office less fancy, not by abandoning the penthouse," he said. "But hey, if you want a guest room while you figure things out, offer stands."
"I appreciate it," I said. "I do. But I think if I take Nyx Co charity, I'll never hear the end of it."
"Oh, absolutely not," he agreed. "I'd be unbearable."
"At least you're honest," I said.
He smiled.
"I try," he said.
---
Kids, I wish I could tell you that I took Nox's advice, sat down with Marshall and Lily like a grown-up, and calmly worked out a plan.
I did not.
Because as it turns out, nothing derails rational conversation like medieval weaponry.
And that night, while I was wrestling with my feelings about the apartment… Lily found the swords.
But that?
That's where things got… sharp.
Kids, there are a lot of bad ways to resolve conflict.
Passive-aggressive sticky notes. Vague texts. Group chats.
But the worst one?
Swords.
Always swords.
---
I was in my room, trying to google "affordable one-bedroom NYC" without crying, when I heard Lily shout from the living room.
"MARSHALL ERIKSEN!"
I ran out.
Lily stood in front of the wall, arms crossed, glaring at the two crossed swords hanging over the piano like we were running a very low-rent medieval Airbnb.
"Ted," she said slowly, "why are there weapons in our living room?"
"They're not weapons," I said. "They're décor."
"They are swords," she said. "Metal. Sharp. Swords."
Marshall shuffled in behind her, half-embarrassed, half-defensive.
"They're heirlooms," he said. "From my great-grandfather. He fought in… something. With… someone. I forget. But they're important."
"They are insane," Lily said. "We live in New York, not a castle. Take them down."
"You never minded them before," I argued.
"That's because I didn't live here before," she said. "Now I do. And I don't want to die because one of you trips and impales himself on your ancestor's midlife crisis."
Nox, who was on the couch with a magazine, looked up.
"In her defense," he said, "keeping live steel over a sitting area is a choice."
"Thank you," Lily said.
"I didn't say it was a bad choice," he added. "Just a choice with excellent comedic potential."
"Nox," I warned.
"What?" he said. "I'm chaos, not a mediator."
Lily jabbed a finger at the swords.
"They go," she said. "Or I do."
The room went quiet.
"Babe," Marshall said, "come on. It's just a couple swords. They're part of the place."
"That's the thing," she said. "This isn't just 'the place' anymore. This is our home. And I want it to be a home where no one gets decapitated reaching for a coaster."
I bristled.
"This is my place," I said. "We all talk like it's already theirs. I have a say in what stays on these walls."
"Yeah," she shot back. "And now so do I."
Something sharp and ugly flashed through my chest.
"So what, we just erase everything that was here before you?" I asked. "Because it doesn't fit your aesthetic?"
She stared at me.
"This isn't about aesthetic," she said. "This is about safety."
"And territory," Nox muttered.
"Stay out of this," I snapped.
"Wish I could," he said. "But you're arguing three feet from my knees."
Marshall stepped between us.
"Guys, relax," he said. "We can compromise. We'll move them. Maybe to my office. Or the bedroom."
"NO," Lily and I said together.
"That's worse," Lily added.
"That's insane," I said.
Marshall's shoulders sagged.
"Okay," he said. "Then… what?"
Before anyone could answer, the apartment door opened and Barney strode in like he'd been summoned by drama.
"Hey hey!" he said. "I brought beer and emotionally irresponsible opinions."
He clocked the swords, the body language, Lily's death-glare.
"Oh," he said, delighted. "Did I walk in on a fight? Is this about commitment? Or lease terms? Or both? Please say both."
"Lily wants to take the swords down," I said.
"Because I don't want weapons in my home," she added.
"OUR home," Marshall said weakly.
Barney grinned.
"Oh," he said. "This is better than I thought. This isn't about swords. This is about who the apartment belongs to."
"It belongs to all of us," Marshall insisted.
Barney ignored him, eyes lighting up with evil.
"You know what this is?" he said. "This is an old-fashioned territorial dispute. There's only one way to solve this."
He turned to the wall, plucked one of the swords off its hooks with way too much ease, and gave it a practiced swish.
"A duel."
"NO," Lily and Nox said at the same time.
"Yes," Barney said, almost reverent. "A duel for the apartment. Winner stays. Loser… moves out."
Marshall and I looked at each other.
"That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard," I said.
"It's also the most awesome," he said.
"Absolutely not," Lily said, voice sharp. "You are not sword-fighting over real estate."
Barney pointed the sword at me.
"What's the matter, Ted?" he pressed. "Afraid you'll lose your precious can't-let-go-of-college-boy roommate? Or worse—afraid you'll have to admit you don't belong there anymore?"
"That's not—" I started.
Nox cut in.
"Hey, quick note from the peanut gallery," he said. "Aggravating an insecure man about his living situation while waving a sharp object is how you get minor characters killed."
Barney shrugged him off.
"Think about it," he said. "You both want the place. You both feel threatened. You both have unresolved issues. You literally own swords. This is destiny."
"It's stupid," Lily insisted. "Marshall, tell him it's stupid."
Marshall stared at the sword in Barney's hand, then up at the wall, then back at me.
"Is it stupid," he said slowly, "or is it… epic?"
"Marshall," Lily said dangerously.
I should have backed her.
I should have said no. Put the sword back on the wall. Sat down and had an adult conversation about leases and next steps.
Instead, I thought about the mug labels. The rearranged furniture. The quiet, creeping sense that I was losing something I hadn't been ready to give up.
And then Barney held out the other sword.
"Come on, Ted," he said. "For honor. For pride. For the apartment."
I took it.
---
Kids, in my defense, I didn't think it would be a real duel.
I thought it would be a dumb, clumsy, safe little mock fight. We'd swing the swords a couple times, Lily would yell, we'd stop, everyone would laugh, and that would be that.
I forgot that every man inside is still a ten-year-old boy waiting for an excuse to smash sticks together.
---
The swords were heavy, cooler than I expected in my hands. The metal hummed faintly, or maybe that was just my nerves.
Lily stepped between us.
"No," she said firmly. "I am not kidding. No sword-fighting. No dueling. No reenacting Braveheart in the living room."
"Babe," Marshall said, trying his best calming voice, "we're just messing around."
"No, you're not," she shot back. "You're upset. He's upset. You're both about to turn your feelings into physical dumbassery."
"Physical dumbassery is my middle name," Barney said.
"Shut up, Barney," all three of us said.
Nox stood, finally, and walked over.
"Okay, as the only person here not legally bound to you piranhas," he said, "I'm going to add my vote: this is stupid. Talk like people. Don't stab each other like extras in a budget fantasy show."
I looked at him.
"I thought you liked chaos," I said.
"I like controlled chaos," he said. "This is 'paramedic' chaos."
But the swords were in our hands.
And Marshall… looked at me differently.
Not just as his best friend, but as his rival. For the apartment. For the life he was building.
"You want this place?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," I said. "I do."
"Me too," he said.
We both knew only one of us could have it.
Barney grinned, sensing victory.
"En garde," he said proudly. "Or whatever French nonsense swordsmen say."
Lily turned to Nox, desperate.
"Do something," she said.
He sighed.
"I tried words," he said. "You people only respond to disaster."
He stepped back.
"Fine," he said. "If you're going to be idiots, I'm going to sit down and document it."
He grabbed his phone and sank onto the couch.
Bryce picked that exact moment to walk in.
She took one look at the room—Lily panicking, Barney vibrating, Marshall and me with swords—and stopped dead.
"Oh my God," she said. "Did I miss the opening credits?"
Nox pointed at us without looking away.
"Welcome to Toxic Masculinity: Live," he said. "It's a limited series."
---
The duel started badly.
Then got worse.
We circled each other in the living room, swords raised.
"This is stupid," I said.
"You can still back out," Marshall said.
"So can you," I shot back.
We clanged the swords together tentatively.
"Ha!" Barney crowed. "First blood!"
"There's no blood," Lily snapped.
"First… noise," Barney corrected.
We swung again, a little harder.
Clang. Scrape. Awkward footwork.
At one point, we both swung at the same time, blades met, and the vibration rattled up my arms so hard I nearly dropped mine.
"Okay, that's enough!" Lily yelled. "You made your point. Put the swords down."
"Not yet," Marshall said, jaw tight.
It wasn't about swords anymore.
It was about who was staying. Who was leaving.
Who mattered more in the story of this apartment.
We moved into the hallway.
Clang. Shuffle. Breath.
Barney was narrating like it was pay-per-view.
"And they advance down the hall!" he cried. "Two men, one lease, no grip on reality!"
Nox sat cross-legged on the couch, Bryce beside him, both watching with the detached horror of people who knew how this movie ended but couldn't stop it.
"They're going to break something," Bryce murmured.
"Yup," Nox said. "Place your bets. My money's on drywall."
"Window," she countered.
We stumbled into Marshall's room, swords still raised.
"You can't kick me out," I said, breathless. "I found this place."
"I love this place," he shot back. "I'm starting a family here."
"We had a family here," I snapped. "You and me. For years."
"That doesn't disappear just because Lily moved in," he said.
"It feels like it is," I said. "Like I'm being… replaced."
He faltered.
"Dude," he said, hurt flickering across his face. "You're not being replaced. You're just… moving forward."
We swung again.
The swords collided, glanced, swung wider than either of us meant.
Mine hit the doorframe.
His hit the wall.
And then momentum took over.
We stumbled into the living room, still grappling, swords up.
Lily moved to stop us.
Barney pulled her back.
"This is art," he hissed.
"THIS IS IDIOTIC," she hissed back.
Marshall and I crashed backward.
Into the front door.
It flew open.
We tumbled out into the hall, blades scraping the walls, arguing even as we fought.
"You're not the only one whose life is changing," I said.
"I know!" he said. "But why does it feel like any version where I'm happy means you're screwed?"
"Because you're taking the apartment," I said. "It's the symbol!"
"Then take the symbol somewhere else!" he shouted. "Make a new one!"
I didn't realize we'd reached the stairwell.
I didn't realize how close to the top step we were.
Until we both went over.
---
Kids, falling down a flight of stairs isn't as funny as cartoons make it look.
It hurts. Everywhere.
Marshall and I crashed down in a tangle of limbs and steel, hit the landing hard, and lay there groaning.
Upstairs, we heard Lily scream.
"Ted! Marshall!"
Nox's face appeared at the top of the stairs, then Bryce's.
"Well," Nox said. "Gravity won."
They hurried down.
"You guys okay?" Bryce asked, crouching.
"My everything hurts," I said.
"My everything also hurts," Marshall groaned.
Lily barreled down after them, eyes wide with panic and fury.
"ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!" she yelled. "You could have died! Over an APARTMENT!"
She rounded on me first.
"You," she said, jabbing a finger at my chest. "You are not a supporting character in your own life. Stop acting like you only matter if you cling to the past."
Then she spun on Marshall.
"And YOU," she snapped. "You don't prove you're ready for a life with me by beating your best friend in a swordfight. You prove it by being a grown-up and having hard conversations without causing a medical emergency."
Marshall winced like each word was a slap. Honestly, same.
Barney peeked down the stairs, saw Lily's face, and withdrew like a vampire seeing sunlight.
Nox extended a hand to each of us.
"Up," he said. "Before she decides 'no swords' was too lenient and upgrades to poison."
We hauled ourselves to our feet.
Everything throbbed.
My head. My back. My ego.
Lily looked between us, eyes bright with tears now instead of just rage.
"You're both idiots," she said. "But you're my idiots. And I love you. And I am not going to pick between you. So if this apartment means you can't figure this out without turning into medieval morons…"
She took a breath.
"Then I will move out."
Our jaws dropped.
"What?" Marshall yelped. "Babe, no—"
"I'm going to stay with Robin for a while," she said, voice shaking. "Until you two remember you're best friends and not… whatever this is."
She gestured vaguely at the sword still in my hand.
"And when I come back," she added, "either those swords are gone… or I am."
She turned on her heel and stomped back up toward the apartment.
The door slammed.
Silence.
"Well," Nox said softly. "That escalated."
Bryce elbowed him.
"Not helpful," she murmured.
We limped back upstairs.
The apartment felt wrong.
Too bright. Too quiet. Too… empty.
Lily's half-unpacked boxes sat by the wall like abandoned plans.
Marshall sank onto the couch, face buried in his hands.
"I messed up," he said. "I messed everything up."
I sat beside him, sword across my knees.
"No," I said. "We messed it up. Together. Equally, in true co-dependent fashion."
He laughed weakly.
"What are we going to do?" he asked.
I stared at the swords.
"We're going to fix it," I said. "First thing tomorrow, these come down."
"Absolutely," he said.
"And then," I added, throat tight, "I'm going to start looking for my own place. For real."
He stared at me.
"Ted, no," he said. "That's not what I—"
"It's what needs to happen," I said. "You're right. You and Lily need your own space. Your own first home. And I… need to stop pretending nothing is changing."
His eyes filled.
"I don't want to lose you," he said.
"You're not," I said. "We're not divorcing, Marshall. We're just… moving to different apartments. You'll still be my best friend. I'll still be here. Just… not here."
I tapped the couch.
He sniffed.
"You sure?" he asked.
"No," I said honestly. "But I think it's the right move."
Nox and Bryce watched quietly from the armchair.
After a moment, Nox spoke.
"For what it's worth," he said, "I think you're making the right call. Both of you."
"Yeah?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said. "Growing up sucks. But sometimes, destroying property and nearly dying down the stairs is what it takes to accept inevitable change."
Bryce nodded.
"And hey," she added, "if you need help apartment-hunting? I'm great at spotting places with terrible light and lying landlords. Comes with the trade."
I managed a weak smile.
"Thanks," I said.
---
Kids, I did move out.
Not that week. Not even that month. But that fight—those stairs, those swords—were the beginning of the end of my time living with Marshall.
It hurt.
But it was also the beginning of Marshall and Lily's home. Their story together. Their stupid fights over paint colors and whose turn it was to do the dishes.
And as for me?
Well, I learned that you can't hang onto every version of your life forever.
Apartments change. Rooms change. People change.
But the ones who matter?
They stay.
Even if their mailing address doesn't.
---
And the swords?
We took them down the next day.
We didn't burn them.
We did, however, put them somewhere safer.
And by "somewhere safer," I mean…
The hallway closet.
Where they stayed.
Until the next time Barney had a bad idea.
But that's another story.