"Why'd you stay? Really?"
I could give the easy answer or the truth. I chose truth.
"My parents wouldn't let me leave. Told you that much."
He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Details."
"After high school. Got accepted to Ryerson—Toronto. Construction management. Good school." I kicked at the snow. "My dad said no."
"Just no?"
"Said the family business needed me. Said Toronto was too expensive, too far, and too much risk." The words came out flat. "When you're seventeen, your parents control everything. So I stayed."
Hog reached out his hand, and I took it. His fingers were cold, as he was not wearing gloves. "You resent them."
Not a question.
"Sometimes. Not for needing help. And not my dad now for being sick. For never asking what I wanted."
"And now?"
"Dad's not really there much anymore—barely knows me now. Business is mine. And I'm still here." I looked at the Giant."Sometimes I wonder if I'm staying because I don't know how to leave."
Silence stretched for a moment. "I get it."
"What?"
"Being told to pick." He pushed his free hand back into his pocket. "Those past guys that always wanted me to choose the real me."
"They were idiots."
"Maybe." He shrugged.
We weren't talking about Thunder Bay anymore. We were talking about us, standing on a hill in the cold, trying to figure out if we were brave enough.
"What if—" I started, then stopped.
"What if what?"
"What if you found someone who didn't make you decide?"
He turned to face me. "Did I?"
The question was direct and raw.
"Yeah," I said. "You did."
He stared at me. "Rhett—"
"I don't want you to pick a lane." The words came out fast. "I like that you fight people and knit pigs. I like that you brought hot chocolate and helped Jeremy with crossovers. I like that you don't make sense on paper but make perfect sense standing next to me."
His breath caught. "You mean that."
"I do."
He stepped close enough to see the frost caught in his beard. "What happens now?"
Heat flooded through me despite the cold. I was suddenly aware of his size, warmth, and how he was looking at me like I'd just said something that changed everything.
