“What do you do out there?” Maddy asked. “Like what’s your day look like?”
“Fix everything that broke overnight,” Tessa said. “Feed whoever is hungry enough to complain. Argue with my truck. Fill out paperwork I don’t understand. And somewhere in that time, I go work my shift at the vet clinic.”
“The paperwork sounds terrible,” Maddy said cheerfully. “But everything else is kind of badass.”
“I don’t know about badass,” she said. “Mostly just tired.”
“I can tell,” Maddy said, not unkind at all. Just honest.
I had the sudden urge to reach over and take her hand. To tell her she was not carrying this alone, no matter how much she fought it. But I kept my hands firmly where they were.
The waitress came back with our drinks, and we all ordered without much thought. Burgers and fries, the lunch default. I realized I hadn’t stopped watching Tessa for the last ten minutes.
The food arrived, mercifully, right then. Burgers stacked high, fries spilling over like golden confetti. The waitress slid the plates in front of us, smiled, told us to holler if we needed anything.
We murmured thanks and dug in. The noise level around us swelled again. Someone dropped something behind the counter, and a burst of laughter followed. For a brief moment, it felt almost normal. Just a father, his kid, and a woman he happened to know. Nothing complicated. Nothing dangerous.
Then Tessa reached for the ketchup at the exact same time I did.
Our hands collided. Not a brush this time. Full palm to back of hand, warm and solid.
Her fingers flinched, then stilled.
So did mine.
I looked up. Her eyes met mine.
You should let go, my brain said.
I didn’t. For a breath we stayed exactly like that. Neither of us moved. The rest of the diner faded into a dull hum.
Her lips parted, just a fraction. Her tongue flicked out to wet them, fast, automatic. I felt my stomach drop. Something in my chest shifted then, like a fence post giving way. I pulled my hand back, slowly, and let her take the bottle.
“Sorry,” she said, voice a little rough.
“It’s fine,” I managed.
Under the table, my leg brushed hers again as I shifted. This time, I did not move away. Neither did she.
The spark that jumped through me before settled into a low-burning coil that did not go out.
Maddy, of course, saw all of it.
“So,” she said, voice casual, “are you guys dating?”
Tessa inhaled milkshake down the wrong pipe. I sworeunder my breath and thumped her gently between the shoulders until she stopped coughing.
“Mads,” I said, sharper than I meant.
“What?” she asked, genuinely puzzled. “I’m just asking.”
“We’re not, no,” Tessa said quickly. Too quickly. “We’re just neighbors.”
I felt that like a slap that I had no right to feel.
Maddy considered this, then looked at me. “You like her, though, Dad, I can tell.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Can we not have this conversation in public?”
