“That went well,” Brandon observes.
“It did. I was worried it might be awkward, but it felt good to say it out loud. That we're together.”
“It felt good to hear it.”
We settle inside his apartment and finally relax on the couch.
“Nina's been texting me nonstop,” Brandon says, scrolling through his phone with his good hand. “She wants to FaceTime tonight so the whole family can meet you properly.”
“Tonight?”
“Unless you're not ready for that level of chaos? I can put them off.”
Meeting his entire family over video chat feels like a big step, but there's something exciting about taking this next step with him.
“Let's do it,” I say. “I want to meet them.”
An hour later, we're positioned on his couch with his laptop balanced on the coffee table, waiting for the call to connect.When the screen fills with faces, I'm immediately overwhelmed by the sheer energy radiating through the camera.
“Brandon!” A woman who must be his mother appears front and center, and her face lights up when she sees him. “You look terrible. Are you eating enough? Have you been sleeping?”
“I'm fine, Ma. The cast comes off in six weeks, and I feel great.” He gestures toward me. “This is Stella.”
The response is immediate and overwhelming: multiple voices talking at once, sisters pushing each other out of the way to get closer to the camera, his father's booming voice cutting through the chaos to welcome me to the family.
“She's gorgeous!” one sister declares.
“I can't believe you finally brought someone home!” another adds.
“Virtually home,” Brandon corrects with a laugh.
“Close enough,” his mother says firmly. “Stella, dear, it's so wonderful to meet you. Thank you for taking care of our boy. When Nina told us there was a woman calling from the hospital, we didn't know what to think.”
“She's been amazing,” Brandon says as his thumb traces circles on my hand. “I couldn't have asked for better care.”
“We hear you're coming for Fourth of July,” his father chimes in.
“I'm really looking forward to it,” I say, and I mean it. Despite the chaos and the overlapping conversations, there's something warm and welcoming about his family that makes me feel instantly included.
The call goes on for another twenty minutes, and by the time we hang up, my cheeks hurt from smiling.
“They're wonderful,” I say, settling against his good side.
“They love you already. I can tell.” His fingers trace gentle patterns along my arm.
He turns his head to look at me, his expression soft. “You've made me happier than I knew was possible.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my heart flutter. I shift slightly, angling my body toward his, and something changes in the air between us. The playful comfort transforms into something warmer, more charged.
“Brandon?” I murmur as my hand finds the hem of his shirt.
“Yeah?”
“I know the doctor said you need to rest, but I was thinking maybe I could do most of the work this time.”
His breath catches as understanding dawns. “Stella.”
“I want to take care of you,” I say, already moving to straddle his hips with careful precision. “Let me take care of you.”
