"Okay," he says. "So we make time. One night a week. Non-negotiable. No work, no clients, no emergencies."
I process the offer. Turn it over in my mind, looking for the catch.
"One night a week doesn't feel like enough," I say quietly.
Tom doesn't respond right away. The silence stretches long enough that I start to fill it in my head with all the reasons he's hesitating. He's regretting this. He's realizing it's too much work. He's looking for an exit.
But when I look up, he's not looking away. He's watching me, his expression unreadable.
"I don't have a better answer," he says finally.
I exhale through my nose, feel my jaw unclench slightly. Not relief, exactly. Just the small, fragile acknowledgment that neither of us knows how to do this perfectly.
"On the days we can't have a night," Tom says slowly, "we steal moments. Morning coffee. Lunch breaks when we can swing it. Whatever we can get. Yeah, it's not glamorous."
I nod. Don't trust my voice yet.
Tom shifts forward, elbows back on the table. "What day do you want?"
"What?"
"For our non-negotiable night. What day works for you?"
The question catches me off guard. I expected more negotiation, more circling. Not immediate action.
"You want to pick right now?"
"You said we need a plan. So let's make one."
I blink at him. Tom, who never plans more than a day ahead, who keeps his schedule loose and his commitments looser, is asking me to pick a specific recurring day.
"Saturday," I say.
"Saturday works." Tom holds my gaze, his expression sobering slightly. "But we're going to miss some Saturdays."
"What?"
"We're going to miss some," he repeats. "Something's going to come up. A client emergency, a site crisis, something. And we're going to have to reschedule. And that's going to be okay."
"Is it?" I ask.
"It has to be."
I don't know if that's true. But I don't have a better answer either.
Tom picks up his phone from the far edge of the table. He taps the screen, scrolls, pauses. His brow furrows slightly.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Hold on."
He opens the app store. I watch him type something into the search bar, scroll through results, tap one. A loading bar appears on the screen.
"Are you downloading a calendar app?"
"Yeah."
"You don't have a calendar app."
