"I watched you date other guys. Listened to Alexis tell me about your boyfriends. And every single time, I hated it. Hated that it wasn't me. How fucked up is that?"
Nina's hands come up to cover mine where they're still cupping her face. "Joel, I've been in love with you since I was twenty years old."
The words hit me like a punch to the chest. "In love?"
"In love." Her voice is steady, certain. "Not a crush. Not infatuation. I fell in love with you at that Thanksgiving dinner when you asked me about my art history class and actually knew what the hell I was talking about. When you made your daughter laugh and looked at her like she hung the moon. When you gave me seconds without making me feel like I should be eating less."
Tears are streaming down her face now, but she's not sobbing—just letting them fall. "Every relationship I've had has been me trying to find someone who made me feel even a fraction of what you make me feel. And they all failed because they weren't you."
I'm completely undone. My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat.
"I'm not good at this," I admit. "My ex-wife left because I work too much, because I'm not exciting enough. I'm boring, Nina. I make pasta and do crosswords and listen to NPR. I'm in bed by ten most nights. You're twenty-five. You should be out with someone who—"
"Stop." She says it firmly, her hands tightening over mine. "I don't want someone exciting. I don't want someone my age whothinks going to clubs is a personality. My ex made me feel like shit about myself every single day."
She leans closer, her forehead almost touching mine. "You make me feel seen. You make me feel safe. You make me feel like I matter. Do you have any idea how rare that is?"
"Nina—"
"I'm not some kid with a crush on an older man. I'm a grown woman who knows what she wants. And what I want is you." Her voice drops to a whisper. "I've wanted you for five years, Joel. I'm not confused. I'm not rebounding. I'm not going to change my mind in the morning."
We're staring at each other, and I can see my own desire reflected in her eyes—along with something deeper, something that terrifies me because I feel it too.
"Alexis," I finally say. "God, Nina, what do we tell Alexis?"
"The truth." She doesn't hesitate. "That we have feelings for each other. That we're both adults who want to see where this goes. She might be weird about it at first—hell, she'll probably be really weird about it—but she loves us both. She'll come around."
"And if she doesn't?"
Nina's quiet for a moment. "Then that's something we'll have to figure out together. But Joel, I can't keep living my life afraid of what other people think. Even people I love." She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes fully. "Can you?"
And there it is—the real question. Am I brave enough to reach for what I want? To risk my daughter's anger and society's judgment and my own self-doubt for a chance at something real?
I think about the past five years. The loneliness. The way my house felt empty even when Alexis was home. The way I came alive every time Nina visited, how I'd find excuses to be in whatever room she was in.
I think about yesterday—the way she looked in my kitchen, the way she felt pressed against me while we made pasta, the way my whole chest opened up when she smiled.
"I've never wanted anything the way I want you," I say roughly. "It scares the hell out of me."
"Good." Her smile is soft, understanding. "I'm scared too."
"Yeah?"
"Terrified. You're Alexis's dad. You're this accomplished surgeon with your life together. I'm a social media manager who just got dumped and has no idea what I'm doing half the time. What if I'm not enough for you?"
"Nina." I pull her closer, until our foreheads touch. "You're everything."
We stay like that for a long moment, breathing each other in, neither of us brave enough to close the final distance.
Finally, Nina pulls back slightly. "So what do we do?"
I take a shaky breath. "We go slow. We figure this out. Alexis doesn't get back until the twenty-sixth—" I check my phone, pulling up her last text where she confirmed she can't get out until day after Christmas. "We have two days. Just us. No pressure, no rushing. We just... see what this is."
"And then we tell her? Together?"
"Together," I agree. "When she gets home. Honest conversation."
Nina nods slowly. "Okay. Slow. I can do slow."
