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Ty: ?

Andi: You need to do ME.

Laughter burst from my chest. That was my girl. Putting it out there. Her honesty was refreshing. And I owed her the same. About all the things. Rosie. All of it. She’d accused me of not talking enough about the things that mattered, and she was right. I’d been protecting myself. Force of habit. But one I had to change, for Andi and me to work. And I’d get there. Eventually. Was it wrong that I wanted to take a breath, enjoy her first?

Her admission about not wanting kids on our date had thrown me. Instead of blurting things out, I’d pulled back, needing time to process what it all meant. Did that mean she’d reject my role in Rosie’s life? And did I want more kids? I hadn’t thought about it. The longer I waited to tell her about Rosie, the more awkward I felt about my secret. Was it wrong to ease her into the idea by showing her what life for us could be like together? Letting her see the role I played in Rosie’s life first-hand? I wrestled with my conscience and how best to broach the subject, feeling paralyzed about saying the wrong thing. Doing the wrong thing. She didn’t need to justify her decision about her life or her desires to me. But it made it difficult for me to figure out how to approach her about who Rosie was to me.

I hummed, debating my response to her last text. As confident as Andi appeared to the world, her words from the hall haunted me. I couldn’t leave her in any doubt about how I felt.

I took a snapshot of my grocery shopping cart, using the photo editor to highlight the item I wanted her to see and attaching it to my next message.

Ty: Preparing.

I grinned, trying to imagine her reaction. With any other woman, buying condoms in bulk would be too much, but I had faith in Andi.

Andi: Here’s my favorite brand of lube.

I chuckled, adding her suggestion to my cart, along with the ingredients I’d need to cook her something special. Andi deserved everything I could give her.

***

“Hey.”

Andi’s shy smile when I opened the door threw me. I half expected her to tackle me to the ground. It would have made things easier.

Instead, I put my adult face on, welcoming her inside.

“I’ve got dinner on the stove. Want to join me with a glass of wine while I wrap up?”

She nodded, toeing off her shoes, and I showed her through my apartment before ending the tour in the kitchen.

“You have a nice place,” she said, slipping onto a barstool across the small prep space from me.

“One guess who helped me decorate,” I teased.

“Jimmy?”

I nodded. “He called it his ‘welcome to living like the rest of us’ gift when I left soccer and moved back to town.” I grinned, remembering. “Jimmy was the rare teen boy who kept lavender sachets to ward off the sports gear funk. I was glad to see that he hadn’t changed much even if we didn’t stay tight over the years. I missed him.”

Her eyes softened, crinkling around the corners as she took a sip from the glass I’d poured for her. “I dunno, having your own interior decorator still sounds pretty bougie to me. Was it hard?”

I didn’t pretend to misunderstand her meaning. “Excruciating. Soccer was all I ever wanted.”

The soft understanding in her eyes helped me breathe past the admission. I didn’t expect her to tiptoe around the subject, and she didn’t expect me to be over it, no matter how much time had passed.

“How’d you get the job with nine-one-one?” she asked.

I grinned. “Jimmy again.”

“What is he, your fairy godmother?”

“Sometimes I think so, but no. Just a friend. One I don’t want to disappoint.”

She sobered at the talk of disappointment, tracing a pattern with her fingertip on the counter. “You think letting him down is a risk? Where’s that competitive spirit I love so much?”

She’d said the L word and my heart stopped. Pausing on the precipice. Did she even realize? She wasn’t serious, but why did hearing the word “love” on her lips sound so right?

I cleared my throat, stalling for time. If I didn’t address that first night I turned her down, what held me back, would she ever believe I wanted her? Maybe now, she’d understand.