He leaned back, scrubbing his hand over his beard. “I don’t know. I’ve never felt like it was my life’s purpose to be a parent or anything. Or like something would be missing if I didn’t. But I’m not against it, either. I kind of assumed it would depend on whoever I ended up with. Whether they wanted them or not.”
He saw her shoulders relax. “Okay. Good. That’s good.” It was only when he heard the relief in her voice that he understood how nervous she’d been to hear his answer. “I think…” she continued. “I think it can be easier to want them if you’re not the one who would have to give anything up.”
He lay his palm upright on the arm of the chair, and after a moment, she set her hand over his.
“I’ll never pressure you into anything you don’t want to do. You know that, right?” he asked quietly. She didn’t say anythingfor a moment, still looking into her lap. Finally, she looked up, her face sincere.
“I know.”
The trust and gratitude packed into those two words hit his chest like a battering ram, practically cracking him open. He turned her hand over and kissed it before setting it back on the chair, still intertwined with his. “Well,” he said. “Looks like we agree on the big stuff, at least.”
“That’s a relief. It would be pretty embarrassing if we went through all that bullshit for nine years just to break up after twelve hours.” She was smiling again. “Any other concerns we should get out of the way now?”
“Just one. Are you gonna let me take you out on a real date, or what?”
Her smile grew wider. “Like, in public?”
“That’s the idea. I don’t know if you heard, but the cat’s kind of out of the bag about us.”
“Hmmm. I’ll consider it.” Her expression turned mischievous. “There’s a lot of things I want to do to you in private first.”
He grinned, too, leaning in to kiss her. When they pulled apart, though, she looked annoyed. He turned his head and followed her gaze, catching a glimpse of one of the lounge employees hurrying away, slipping her phone into her pocket. He glanced back at Lilah, who smirked humorlessly.
“Should we ask her to send it to us? Maybe we can start a scrapbook.”
27
Even with the best of intentions, Shane and Lilah’s new relationship quickly began to look a lot like their old one, the two of them rarely going anywhere other than theIntangibleset and their houses. Not that either of them minded—their schedule was as exhausting as ever, plus they were ten years older. He wondered how it was possible to be so happy from doing so little, just because it was with her. That he could spend practically every waking minute with her, both on set and at home, and still feel like it wasn’t enough.
He’d expected the general reaction to their relationship amongst their co-workers to be positive, but wary—a collective holding of breath, since they all knew what would happen if heand Lilah stopped getting along again. But to his surprise, everyone seemed to be genuinely, unreservedly happy for them. He knew they’d all bonded over the past several months, but this was the first time it truly struck him what a unified front they’d become.
Basking in the glow of their reignited flame was the perfect distraction from the uncomfortable truth that neither of them had any idea what the end ofIntangibleheld for them. It seemed like every day they arrived at work to the news that someone else had found a new job: Margaux and Brian’s spin-off was moving forward with a real pilot, Rafael had booked a supporting role in a superhero franchise, Natalie was joining the ensemble of a big-budget streaming sci-fi show.
In the short term, they discussed spending the summer traveling—meeting each other’s families, knocking international cities off their respective bucket lists, renting a house in the woods or on a secluded island so they could really be alone. For the first time since he’d found out the show was ending, the prospect of the future filled him with more excitement than terror.
It was uncanny how natural it felt to stop thinking of his plans as singular, only concerning him, and open his life up to encompass the two of them as a unit without missing a beat. He’d never felt so in sync with a partner before—ironic, considering how at odds they’d been even a few months ago. But maybe that had been necessary, the friction sanding down the last edges that had prevented them from fitting together as seamlessly as they did now.
One night in early February, cuddling on Lilah’s couch after work, she brought up the upcoming convention in March so offhandedly that Shane did a double take.
“What? You’re going? Since when?”
She craned her head to look at him, confused. “I didn’t tell you? Jasmine just confirmed with them this week.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “And you’re doing everything? The panel and the meet and greet and everything?”
“Do you not want me to?”
He pulled her closer, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. “Of course I want you to.” She settled against him with a sigh, and he ran his fingers absentmindedly up and down the bare skin of her upper arm. “Are you nervous?” he murmured against her hair.
She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I think you’re right, that it’ll be easier for me now. I’m just worried that people will be extra…intense. About us.”
He was silent for a moment, his hand moving up to stroke her hair. A knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach—both for her fears and for the fact that they were well founded.
“Whatever happens, we can handle it.”
She craned her head to look at him, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. He leaned in to kiss her, slowly, tenderly. He was still getting used to being able to kiss her like this, a kiss that had nothing to do with sex. A kiss that felt like a confession, a confirmation, an appreciation, all at once.
…
