PART 3:

The assessment was thorough. She was someone who thought before she agreed to things, which he respected. You don’t know my family. I’m aware. My mother is going to interrogate you. I install electrical panels. I’ve survived scarier. Something that might have been a smile moved across her mouth. You’d be terrible at lying. I don’t plan to lie.

I plan to stand next to you and be present. That’s all you actually need. She was quiet for a long moment. The lamp in the corner of her room threw warm light across the blue of the dress and outside the window the city hummed low and constant. One night, she said finally. One night, she nodded slowly. Okay.

Ethan pushed off the door frame. I’ll fix that latch tomorrow, he said, nodding at the door. Thank you, she said, and he understood she meant more than the latch. Friday night, they sat on the living room floor with takeout containers between them and built a story. It started more awkwardly than either of them wanted to admit.

“How long have we been dating?” Victoria asked, chopsticks hovering over a container of low mane. Long enough that it’s not weird we’re living together. Short enough that we’re still figuring things out. 4 months. 4 months works. How did we start? He thought about it. We were already friends. It happened gradually. Less of a moment, more of a accumulation, she looked at him.

That’s oddly specific. It’s also accurate, he said. And then, because he hadn’t meant to say that out loud quite like that, he moved on. What’s your family actually going to push on? She set down the chopsticks. My mother’s going to want to know your plans. Not in terms of you and me. in terms of your career.

She has opinions about what people should be doing with their lives. She’s not cruel about it. She just believes in certain things, like what? Stability, status, a certain kind of visible success. Victoria said it without apology, like she’d come to terms with the fact of it a long time ago, even if she hadn’t come to terms with how it felt.

She’s going to compare you to Marcus immediately, even if she doesn’t say so. Tell me about him. Ethan leaned back against the couch. What does he do? Finance, mergers, and acquisitions. He’s good-looking in the way that photographs well. He remembers everyone’s name on the first meeting and makes them feel like that’s about them when it’s actually about him.

She paused. He went to Yale. My mother mentions that approximately once every 15 minutes when he’s in the room. You went to Yale, too? Ethan said he’d seen the degree in a box when she moved in. Wharton for business school, but my mother doesn’t mention that. She said it simply, and he filed it away as something painful that she’d long since stopped expecting to be different. Okay.

Ethan said, “I’m a licensed master electrician. I run my own residential business on the side. I’m raising a daughter. I have zero interest in competing with your ex-boyfriend for your mother’s approval.” Victoria looked at him steadily. That might not play well. I’m not there to play well. I’m there to stand next to you.

She was quiet for a moment. You keep saying that because I mean it. She picked up her chopsticks again. They ate for a while in silence, but it was the kind of silence that had gotten comfortable somewhere along the way without making an announcement about it. “Can I ask you something?” Victoria said later. The takeout containers had been cleared away, and she’d pulled her knees up on the couch.

The careful CEO posture entirely gone. “Sure, you said Kora’s mother left when Kora was 4 months old.” She paused. “What was her name?” He hadn’t expected the question. “Dana, were you in love with her?” He thought about it honestly. “I was going to marry her. That’s not always the same thing. What happened?” She decided she didn’t want the life. He turned the words over.

the baby, the apartment, the guy who came home with grease on his hands and talked about voltage drops at dinner. She wanted something she couldn’t name and she left looking for it. That must have It did, he said before she could finish. Not because he didn’t want to hear it, because he did, which was the problem. She left on a Tuesday.

Cora had collic that week. I didn’t sleep for about 4 days and then I figured out I was on my own and I just started. He shrugged. “What else do you do?” Victoria was looking at him with an expression he’d started to think of privately as her unguarded face. The one that showed up when something got through the perimeter she kept.

Does Kora ask about her? Sometimes I answer as honestly as I can for a six-year-old. He paused. I tell her that her mom made a choice and that it wasn’t about Kora, which is true. And that some people aren’t built for staying, which is also true. And you? He looked at her. Are you built for staying? She asked.

It was a direct question, which he’d expected from her. He took it seriously. I don’t know, he said. I know. I’m scared to find out. She nodded slowly, not like she was judging the answer, like she recognized the shape of it. Me too, she said quietly. They sat with that for a while. The lamp was on. The city was doing its nighttime sound outside.

👉 [Tap here for the Next Part ] 👈