"I don't plan to."
Thomas glanced at him. "Does she know that?"
Grant poured himself more coffee. "Working on it."
"Work faster. She leaves after New Year's."
"I'm aware."
"Are you?" Thomas plated the eggs, sliding one to Grant. "Because from where I'm standing, you two are spending a lot of time together but not talking about what actually matters."
"We're talking."
"About feelings? About what happens after the holidays? About whether she's actually leaving or if you're giving her a reason to stay?"
Grant stabbed at his eggs. "It's complicated."
"It's not that complicated. You love her. You've always loved her. Tell her."
"I can't just?—"
"Why not?"
"Because she's convinced this is temporary. That she's leaving. That we're just—" Grant stopped, frustrated. "I can't push her. She'll run."
Thomas studied him for a long moment. "Maybe she's waiting for you to give her something to stay for."
The words sat heavy in Grant's chest.
"I'm trying," Grant said quietly.
"Try harder. You don't get many second chances in life." Thomas squeezed his shoulder. "Don't waste this one."
Grant spent the rest of the morning working on autopilot, his dad's words echoing in his head.
Tell her. Give her a reason to stay.
But how? Riley was so determined to keep this casual, to pretend last night hadn't meant what it clearly meant. Every time he tried to go deeper, she'd deflect with humor or change the subject or insist it was temporary, that she was leaving.
His phone buzzed.
Riley: Just got the third degree from my family about staying out all night.
Grant smiled despite himself.
Grant: How'd that go?
Riley: My sister thinks it's hilarious. My mom is being suspiciously supportive. My dad won't make eye contact.
Grant: Your dad caught us making out in my truck. This probably isn't a surprise.
Riley: Fair point. Still mortifying.
Grant: Want me to come over and face them with you?
Riley: And make it worse? No thank you.
Grant: Coward.
