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"Because Stella is important to you and so are the others. You wouldn't have decided to move here if they weren't." I stroked the soft cotton of her pants that covered her thigh.

"You're important to me, too," she said, the pace of her eating slowing with the conversation as she dipped naan in some tikka masala sauce.

"And you're important to me. Do you want to have dinner with them?"

Her gaze met mine as if surveying me. "Are you taking advantage of my extreme fatigue and decline in cognitive acuity, Rosie?" She chuckled when she said it and I nodded.

"I am. I want you to tell me the truth instead of distracting me with sex or sidestepping my questions with playfulness. I love all of those things, but I want to hear your voice, too." My boldness tonight spoke volumes of things I normally wouldn't say.

She watched me, returning to stroking my hair and tucking it behind my ear. Her gaze lingered on mine and would occasionally dip to my lips.

"I'd like to go, but not alone," she said, finally.

"Were you going to ask me to go?"

She nodded. "Eventually."

"Well, when you do ask me, I think I will say yes. Because you make me feel safe and taken care of."

A smile melted over her mouth and she propped her elbow on the table. "Really?"

"Yes." I leaned against her and she wrapped her arm around me.

"Then we'll go together." She kissed my temple and I leaned up to nip her chin.

"What do you do around holidays? Where do you go?"

"Thanksgiving I usually visit my mother briefly because she always liked cooking American food. Christmas I don't celebrate."

"Do you celebrate any holidays?"

"Nope. I mean, I like Halloween and birthdays and stuff like that. Nothing religious," she said.

"Would you come with me to Rebecca's for Christmas if I asked?" I bit my bottom lip and awaited her answer.

"Of course." She offered me a genuine smile. "Are you asking?"

I nodded and chuckled. "I am."

"Then yes." She grinned and caught me in a spicy kiss. "I'd love to go with you and meet your family."

"I've never brought anyone home before," I told her after finishing my last bite of dinner. "So it might be overwhelming."

"I'm looking forward to being overwhelmed by people who care about you," she said, wiping her fingers on a napkin before we began cleaning up. "I'd take you to meet my mother if I didn't think she would tear you apart."

"If you wanted me to go, I'd go anyway."

"Even if I had to call you my friend to save you the inquisition?"

"I thought you said your mom was accepting of you?" My brow furrowed as I recalled her origin story about her family.

"Generally, she is because she sees me as a successful doctor. As a lesbian?" She shrugged. "It's hit or miss. Not that she's mean about it, but sometimes she still asks if I'm going to settle down. I know what she means. Her culture is different."

"That must be difficult for you though…"

"All of it is," she admitted in what seemed like a fatigued exposition at best.

We abandoned our cleaning for conversation, and after Sam lowered the lights in the kitchen for the night, we made for the living room. To my surprise, she plucked a single rose from the vase on the coffee table before catching me around the middle from behind. She hugged me to her and changed our trajectory to the bedroom.