“Captain things can wait.”
“The team—”
“The team will be fine.” I catch her chin, tilt her face up to meet my eyes. “You’re here. That’s what matters.”
Her expression softens in a way that makes my chest tight. “When did you get so romantic?”
“Post-it notes. Breathing exercises. A persistent woman who refused to let me hide.”
“I’m a good teacher.”
“The best.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not giving up on me. Even when I made it really hard.”
“You made it really, really hard.”
“I know.”
“Like, spectacularly hard.”
“I know.”
“The Main Street thing alone—”
“I know, Gisele.”
She laughs. “Okay. You’re welcome.”
“You did make it really hard.” She smiles. “But you were worth it.”
We stand there in the quiet for a while longer, wrapped around each other, letting the moment settle into something real. The fear isn’t gone—I don’t think it ever will be, not completely. But it’s balanced now by something stronger.
By the certainty that I made the right choice.
By the way Gisele looks at me like I finally figured out what she’s known for years: that the only thing scarier than losing someone is never letting yourself have them.
“Sunday dinner,” I say eventually. “Six o’clock. Mom’s place.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Wear something comfortable. The Fosters can be a lot.”
“I’ve survived the Fosters before.”
“Not as my girlfriend.” I grin. “That’s a whole different level of chaos.”
“I can handle chaos.” She rises up on her toes, kisses me once more. “I handled you, didn’t I?”
“Barely.”
“That’s not what you said last night.”
“That was different.”
“Was it?” Her eyes are sparkling with mischief now. “I seem to remember you being very complimentary about my handling abilities.”
