Nicole slipped in a final gold hoop, checked the mirror, and called out, “Two minutes! Promise.”
From the living room, Edgar’s voice came back, patient as ever. “Take your time. I like seeing where you live.”
She grabbed her jacket off the back of a chair, shaking it once to dislodge the cat hair she’d missed. A quick check: phone, wallet, keys. All set.
He stood when she entered the room. Always did.
“Sorry,” she said, pulling on her coat.
“You look great,” he said. “Worth the wait.”
She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Charmer.”
They made their way down the apartment stairs and out onto the street. The city hummed in early evening—shopfronts glowing, air smelling faintly of car exhaust and food trucks. As they waited for the crosswalk light to change, Nicole nudged his arm.
“You know, I could pick you up sometimes,” she said. “It’s not fair that you’re always the one driving.”
He waved it off with a half-shrug. “You’re more central than I am. Just makes sense.”
—
Dinner was at a tucked-away Italian place Nicole had wanted to try for weeks—dim lighting, bread you had to tear with your hands, waitstaff who smiled like they meant it. They talked about work for a bit, about Gwen’s new calendar color-coding obsession, about the intern who accidentally CC’d a vendor on a Slack thread.
Then, over the last bite of tiramisu, she said, “Hey. Do you know the Glass Gardens? That butterfly sanctuary place?”
He shook his head. “Sounds vaguely familiar.”
“It’s about an hour outside the city. I’ve wanted to go forever. Was thinking maybe we could make a weekend of it? You know. Hotel nearby, some wine, a couple of butterflies.”
He smiled, setting down his spoon. “That sounds nice.”
She watched him. He was always hard to read in that quiet way that made people seem deep.
“But?” she prompted.
He looked sheepish. “Could I think about it?”
She nodded, trying not to look too disappointed. “Sure. Of course.”
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’d really like to. Just… they lean on me a lot, you know? My parents. They’re getting old. When I was away at school, things kind of… fell apart a little. I’ve been trying to make up for that.”
Nicole softened. “That’s sweet.”
“They were always there for me. I guess now I’m just trying to return the favor. Little stuff—groceries, bills, making sure the heat works. It’s not glamorous, but…”
She smiled. “If your house is anything like your desk at work, I bet it runs like clockwork.”
He laughed. “Or at least looks clean enough to fool people.”
—
Later, they walked along the edge of the river park—thin gravel trail crunching underfoot, cool breeze working its way down Nicole’s collar. They walked arm in arm, hands tucked into jacket pockets, leaning into each other in that easy way that comes with familiarity.
Nicole leaned in slightly, nose near his shoulder, then paused. “I’ve been meaning to say—”
“Uh-oh.”
“No, good thing.” She smiled. “You have this… clean smell. Not cologne. Not laundry detergent exactly. Just… clean.”
He smiled, looking faintly proud. “That’s what I was going for.”
“I like it.”
“For what it’s worth, I like yours too.”
She laughed. “What, the faint scent of dry shampoo and iced coffee?”
“Smells like a good day.”
He squeezed her hand.
“My mom’s really sensitive to smells,” he added after a beat. “Always has been. I try not to bring anything home with me—scents, smoke, city stuff. She gets migraines.”
Nicole tilted her head slightly, but didn’t say anything.
Clean. Always clean. Almost… too clean?
She pushed the thought aside.
Edgar chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “God, you must think I’m such a mama’s boy. I don’t know why they come up so much.”
Nicole turned toward him. “I really like it. Honestly.” And she meant it.
All her thoughts about family tended to come wrapped in caveats. Love hidden in control. Affection shaped like judgment. Her parents meant well, she told herself—but love from them always came with a pamphlet and a list of instructions.
Edgar’s family didn’t seem to come with strings.
They walked on, gravel crunching, city lights flickering in the water beside them.
And for a moment—just a moment—Nicole felt steady. Like things were settling into place. Like this was the start of something good.