“Fair warning, though,” Austin continued. “It can get lonely. Sometimes that’s the price you pay for going after what you want instead of what everyone else thinks you should want.”
“Are you lonely?” I asked.
Austin’s laugh this time was softer, more rueful. “Less than I was when I was trying to be someone else to please people who were never going to be satisfied anyway.”
“But no regrets?” I asked.
“Nope. If you’ve got a woman, I say do it. You’re not living for Dad or any of the other ones. Who’s going to be there at the end of the day? Them or her? Who’s going to keep your bed warm?”
“I know,” I said. “I get it.”
The call ended shortly after that, with Austin’s characteristic abruptness. But his words lingered, settling into validation in my chest. At least one person in my family understood the choice I was making, even if he couldn’t offer much in the way of comfort about the consequences.
I was preparing to spend the evening alone, maybe call Dad back and face whatever wrath was waiting for me, when I heard footsteps on the stairs outside Sylvie’s apartment.
The door flew open, and Sylvie burst in, grinning from ear to ear and practically vibrating with excitement.
“Change of plans,” she announced, grabbing my hand and pulling me up from the couch. “You’re coming to dinner.”
“Sylvie, I told you?—”
“My family wants you there,” she said, her eyes bright with joy. “Dad specifically asked me to come get you. He said, and I quote, ‘Christmas dinner isn’t complete without everyone we care about around the table.’”
That was a surprise. “He said that?”
“He did. And Brom actually nodded in agreement, which might be the Christmas miracle we’ve all been waiting for.”
I looked down at my jeans and sweater, suddenly self-conscious about my casual attire. “I’m not really dressed for it.”
“You’re perfect,” Sylvie said firmly. “Come on. They’re waiting.”
She dragged me out of the apartment and up to the lodge, chattering excitedly about the dinner preparations and how her mother had made her famous honey-glazed ham and how there would be enough food to feed half the town.
At the door, I hesitated one more time. “Are you sure about this?”
Sylvie turned to face me, her expression suddenly serious. “Kent, you said you wanted to build a life here. With me, with my family. This is what that looks like. Family dinners and holiday traditions and being part of something bigger than just the two of us.”
She was right, of course. If I wanted to truly belong here, I had to be willing to accept all of it. Not just the romantic moments with Sylvie but the complicated family dynamics and the pressure of being included in something so meaningful to them.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s do this.”
She opened the door to her parents’ house. There were candles throughout the room, and the scent of roasted ham and fresh bread filled the air.
Harold looked up as we entered and smiled. “Kent,” he said, standing and extending his hand. “Glad you could join us.”
“Thank you for having me,” I said, shaking his hand. “I don’t want to intrude on family time.”
“Sounds like you’re basically part of the family.” Harold chuckled. “We may as well break you in gently.”
Sylvie led me to a seat at the table. I sat down next to her. I looked around and felt a strange feeling.
I felt like I was home.
For the first time in my adult life, I was sitting at a dinner table not because of obligation or networking or family duty, but because people genuinely wanted me there. Because I mattered to them, not for what I could provide or what family name I carried, but for who I was as a person.
As Harold placed a generous slice of ham on my plate and Gigi ladled stuffing beside it, I thought about Austin’s words about the price of going after what you wanted instead of what others expected.
Maybe loneliness was a risk. Maybe there would be consequences for the choices I was making. But sitting there surrounded by Sylvie’s family, I knew with absolute certainty that whatever price I had to pay would be worth it.
