He stills. “Ollie?—”
“I mean it,” I say. “I don’t want to lose them. But I won’t lose you to keep them comfortable.”
Lindy lets out a breath like she’s been holding it. “Good. Plus, you have me.”
Rafe swallows, emotion flickering across his face. “Okay.” Then, carefully, like he’s offering a possibility rather than a demand, he says, “Maybe… it’s time my parents meet you.”
I blink. “What?”
“They’ll love you,” he says with quiet certainty. “And my mom will absolutely try to adopt you.”
A startled laugh escapes me. “That’s not?—”
“I’m serious,” he says. “They’re not perfect, but they’re kind. And they know I’m in love with someone, just not who, or the fact that we’re married.”
The idea feels too big, too sudden—and yet something in my chest loosens at the thought of being seen without conditions.
I hesitate. “Just your parents?”
He considers. “My parents. And my sister.”
I nod slowly. “Okay.”
Rafe searches my face. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I repeat. “I want that.”
Lindy beams. “Wow. Look at that. Emotional progress after just one drink.”
I shake my head, smiling weakly. “You’re terrifyingly well-adjusted.”
She grins. “It’s a gift.”
We clink glasses softly. She takes a sip, swallows, then freezes. Slowly, her eyes slide to Rafe. Then back to me. Then to Rafe again.
Her brow furrows. “Wait,” she says.
Oh no. I feel it coming a second too late.
“No,” she says, shaking her head like she’s trying to dislodge a thought. “No, no, no. Hold on.”
Rafe lifts his glass, tentative. “Uh?—”
She points at him. “You.”
He blinks. “Me?”
She points harder. “You’re Rafe Ortiz.”
The room goes still, and I close my eyes.
“Lead singer,” she continues faintly, “of Steel Saints.”
I peek at her. “Yes.”
Her mouth drops open. “Oh my fucking God,” she whispers. Then, louder, incredulous, “OH MY GOD.” She stares at me like I’ve personally committed a crime. “You married Rafe Ortiz?”
I wince. “When you say it like that?—”
