Nicole hadn’t expected to say yes.
Not because Edgar wasn’t sweet—he was. He was thoughtful and quiet in a way that made people underestimate him, and charming in the subtle, offbeat way that crept up on you instead of knocking down the door. But after all that time? Weeks of polite desk chats, the occasional lunch, she’d assumed if he were going to make a move, he would’ve done it by now.
So when he finally asked her out for a drink—not coffee, not as part of a group, but a real drink—she was surprised enough to pause before saying yes.
Now they sat across from each other in a booth, nursing their first round at the kind of bar that looked like it had been old since the day it opened. The cushions were slightly too worn to feel intentional.
Nicole smiled and leaned on one elbow, sipping her gin and tonic.
“So,” she said, playfully narrowing her eyes, “I have to ask—what took you so long?”
He laughed softly, eyes flicking down toward his drink. “Honestly?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’d hope so.”
“I was working up the nerve,” he admitted. “You’re gonna think I’m lame, but… my parents kind of talked me into it.”
Nicole blinked. “Wait, really?”
He nodded, cheeks pink again. “They said a girl like you wouldn’t be around forever. That if I didn’t ask, I’d regret it either way. Either you say no, or you say yes—but at least I’d know.”
Nicole felt the compliment bloom in her chest before she could stop it. She gave a surprised little laugh and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“That’s… really sweet, actually.” She looked at him more closely. “You talk to your parents about stuff like this?”
“Yeah,” he said, with a kind of quiet pride. “We’re close.”
“Wow,” she said softly. Nicole took another sip, then sat back against the booth. “I wish I had that kind of relationship with mine.”
Edgar tilted his head, listening.
“It’s not that they’re bad or anything,” she went on. “They’re just… exhausting? Everything’s about control. They think they’re protecting me, setting me up for a good life, but it always felt like I was living their version of what that should be.”
He nodded, quietly.
“And my sister—Julia—she’s younger, but somehow she got to be the fun one. I was always the responsible one—got the lectures, the pressure, the constant check-ins. She got to screw up and still be the baby.”
Edgar’s face softened. “Do you talk to her much?”
“We try. It’s better now. But growing up… it always felt like we were playing different games with different rules.” She looked up and smiled, a little embarrassed. “Anyway, sorry. That was a bit of a family therapy dump.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I get it.”
“I just… I don’t know. I look at you and your parents and think, God, I wish mine were even half as supportive. Like, you’re lucky.”
There was a pause. Edgar smiled—warm, but distant.
“Yeah,” he said. “I got really lucky.”
Nicole thought he was about to say more, but he just sipped his drink and let the silence stretch.
“I know it’s our first date and all,” she said lightly, “but from the way you describe your parents, I’d love to meet them someday.”
He smiled. “A little fast, isn’t it?” He teased gently.
“Call it woman’s intuition,” she said. “I’m good at reading people.” She paused. “I’m really glad you asked me.”
Edgar’s eyes lit up, just a little. “Me too.”
And for a moment, Nicole let herself believe that maybe—just maybe—she’d stumbled into something real. Something safe. Something normal.