"Yes," I said. "He is."
She looked at me for one more moment. Then at Nathan, who was standing at the kitchen island, watching this exchange.
"Good," she said. Quietly. To me. Like she'd arrived at something.
Then she was getting her coat. Then they were at the door. Then the door clicked shut and it was just us and the tea and Leo on my feet and Nathan standing in the middle of his apartment.
Had I overstepped?
Was he about to kick me out?
Would I have to share an elevator with his parents?
I stayed where I was, waiting. Leo was still on my feet.
Nathan exhaled.
"You didn't have to do that," Nathan said.
"I know," I said.
"He means well," Nathan said. "He's always meant well."
"Okay.”
"He doesn't—" Nathan stopped. "He doesn't have the language for it. He never did."
"I know," I said again.
"What you said—"
"Nathan."
"I've never had anyone—" He stopped again. The walls were down and the thing underneath them was right there, visible,and he was trying to say it and not quite getting there and I was watching him try.
"You have someone now," I said.
He looked at me.
"You have someone now," I said again. "Okay?"
A long pause.
"Okay," he said.
I crossed the kitchen.
I didn't say anything else. I just stood next to him, close enough that our arms were touching.
Nathan didn't move away.
After a while his shoulder dropped slightly against mine. Just slightly. Just enough.
"My father—"
"Is not here," I said. "And I am. So."
He sat down at the kitchen island.
