Page 16 of Caden & Theo

He frowns. “A what now?”

“We tell your parents too.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, but it’s everything. “We just… get it all out there. One sweep. Like ripping off the Band-Aid, but with more eye contact and potential awkward silence.”

Theo’s quiet for a second. “You’re serious.”

I nod again.

He runs a hand through his soft curls, shaking his head like he’s trying to reboot. “Okay, but… just so I’m not hallucinating this—this is a yes about us, right? Like, we’retogethertogether?”

I blink, then huff a laugh. “I mean… yeah? Aren’t we?”

He half smiles, like he wants to believe it but needs to hear it out loud. “I just don’t want to be that idiot who assumes he’s someone’s boyfriend and ends up in a viral sad song called ‘Mixed Signals and Missed Texts.’”

I let out a breath and look at him directly. “We’re dating, Theo. For real. Officially.”

He nods, and I offer him my pinkie—our stupid little ritual that suddenly means way more than it ever has.

He loops his around mine. “Boyfriends?”

“Boyfriends,” I echo. “Even if we’re kind of a disaster at timing.”

He grins. “Speak for yourself. I’m excellent under pressure.”

“Perfect,” I say. “You can do all the talking.”

He laughs. “Absolutely not.”

We stand up together, and as we head toward the stairs, our hands brush once, then again. On the third brush, we just… hold.

The house is quiet but not empty.

We walk through my home like something’s humming in the walls. My heartbeat’s a drumline in my ears, and I can tell Theo’s nervous too—he keeps adjusting his sleeves like they’re responsible for his entire emotional state.

But we don’t let go.

When we reach the bottom of the stairs, I hear my dad in the kitchen, humming some old-school Marvin Gaye. My mom’s probably cleaning up in the laundry room. Everything feels weirdly normal. Like the world doesn’t know it’s about to shift, just a little.

I glance at Theo. “You ready?”

He doesn’t answer right away, but then he squeezes my hand. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

And we take the last few steps forward, together.

My parents are in the kitchen when we walk in—Mom’s wiping her hands, and Dad’s slicing limes like he’s judging them. They both look up when we enter, and before they can even say anything, I blurt, “Can we talk to you guys for a sec?”

Mom blinks. “Sure, honey. Everything okay?”

I open my mouth, then look at Theo. He’s doing his best not to bolt.

“I was thinking we could pop next door too,” I say casually—too casually, like I’m suggesting snacks or a walk, not a dual-family reveal that might upend everything.

Dad looks up from where he’s squeezing lime juice into a pitcher and frowns. “Next door?”

“Just for a sec,” I say, trying to keep my voice light and neutral. “I want to say something. To all of you.”

Theo mutters, “Two-for-one,” like a man walking to his doom.

Mom and Dad exchange a glance. Not alarmed, just… alert. But they nod.