Lucy's heart was pounding. "We haven't talked about marriage. We haven't talked about forever. We've barely talked about next month."
"I know. And I'm not proposing. Not officially. I'm just—saying that I'm ready for all of it. Whenever you are. House, marriage, forever. All of it."
Lucy felt overwhelmed. "Can I think about the house? About all of it?"
"Of course. Take all the time you need."
But Lucy could see something in Jake's eyes. Not hurt, exactly. But maybe—resignation? Like he'd put himself out there and she'd pulled back. Again.
Jake tried not to feel disappointed.
He'd told Lucy he was ready for everything—house, marriage, future. And she'd said she needed to think about it.
Which was fair. They'd only been officially living together for six weeks. It was fast.
But Jake was tired of slow. Tired of waiting. Tired of feeling like Lucy always had one foot out the door, ready to run if things got too serious.
"She's scared," Marcus said when Jake told him about it. "That's all this is. Fear."
"I know she's scared. But Marcus—at what point does fear become an excuse? At what point do I stop being patient and start being a doormat?"
"You're not being a doormat. You're being understanding."
"Or I'm being stupid. Waiting around for someone who's never going to fully commit."
"That's not fair. Lucy came back from Paris. She moved in with you. She's building a life here. That's commitment."
"But is it? Or is she just—here until the next thing scares her and she runs again?"
Marcus was quiet. "You need to talk to her. Tell her what you're feeling. Not in an accusatory way, but honest. She needs to know this uncertainty is hurting you."
That night, Jake came home to find Lucy cooking dinner. She looked nervous.
"Hey," she said. "I made your favorite. Trying to butter you up."
"Butter me up for what?"
"For a conversation. About the house. About us. About—everything."
They sat down with dinner, and Lucy took a breath.
"I've been thinking about what you said. About being ready for everything. And Jake—I'm not ready. Not for a house, not for marriage, not for forever. Not yet."
Jake felt his heart sink. "Okay."
"But—and this is important—not being ready isn't the same as not wanting it. I do want all of that. With you. I'm just—I'm stillscared. Still worried I'll mess it up. Still learning to trust myself to stay committed."
"How much longer do you need to learn that? Because Lucy—I've been patient. I've been understanding. But I can't wait forever for you to believe that you're not going to run again."
"I'm not asking you to wait forever. I'm asking for more time. Maybe—maybe another six months. By the end of the year, I'll know. I'll be ready to make real decisions about our future."
"Six months."
"Is that too long?"
Jake wanted to say yes. Wanted to say that he was ready now, that six more months of limbo felt impossible. But he also loved Lucy. And if six months was what she needed—
"Okay," Jake said. "Six months. But Lucy—at the end of those six months, we need to make decisions. About the house, about our future, about whether we're building toward something permanent or just—treading water."
