I had just taken a bite of lasagna when Danny's father, with an oddly thoughtful glint in his eye, turned toward me.
"So, tell me…" he said, folding his hands on the table. "What are your intentions with my son?"
The piece of lasagna nearly lodged in my throat.
I coughed, eyes wide, and Danny almost choked on his drink beside me. His mother smacked her husband lightly on the arm. "Really, Richard? It's not the 1800s."
But the question still hovered in the air, waiting for an answer.
I swallowed, both the food and my nerves, and looked him directly in the eye. "Honestly? I didn't expect this. Any of this. But Danny… he's kind, protective, stubborn in the best ways, and honestly the only person who can make me feel safe and seen without even trying. So, if you're asking my intentions… I just want to keep growing with him, wherever that takes us."
There was a pause.
Danny stared at me like I'd just handed him the stars.
His father raised an impressed brow. "Well. I suppose that's a better answer than Danny gave when I asked him the same question about his first girlfriend in high school."
Danny groaned. "Dad…"
Laughter filled the room again, easy and full of warmth.
Dinner went on with stories, teasing, and Danny's mom trying to sneak an extra serving onto my plate. I couldn't remember the last time I had sat at a table like this—feeling like I belonged.
Eventually, she glanced at the clock and clucked her tongue. "It's quite late, darling. You should stay the night. If you want, I can inform your parents."
I hesitated for a moment, then offered a small smile. "My parents aren't home. They're out of station. So it's just me, really."
Her eyes softened with maternal warmth. "Even better. Then there's no need to rush home alone in this weather. You'll stay. No arguments."
I didn't have the heart — or courage — to say no.
She smiled triumphantly. "Wonderful. You can use the guest room on the top floor. It's the coziest."
I nodded in thanks, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Danny's expression falter — just a flicker of disappointment before he masked it with a polite smile.
I grabbed my bag and followed his mom's directions, heading upstairs to the guest room. The room was spacious and warm, a subtle lavender scent lingering in the air. I placed my bag on the bed and rummaging through it.
I didn't hear the door open. But I heard footsteps.
And before I could turn—
Warm arms wrapped around me from behind.
"Danny," I breathed, startled at first, then melting into the familiar comfort of his embrace.
His chin rested against my shoulder. "I had to hug you… after what you said downstairs."
I turned slightly, resting a hand over his.
"You weren't supposed to hear that part."
"I heard every word." His voice was low, almost reverent. "And if I didn't already love you, I would've fallen right there at the table."
I leaned back against him, my heartbeat doing wild dances.
"You looked disappointed when your mom gave me the guest room," I teased gently.
"She always picks the farthest room on purpose," he whispered. "She's been shipping us since the crash day."
I laughed softly.
He pulled me closer. "But hey, I just wanted a few more minutes… with you."
My heart fluttered.
"Then stay," I whispered, without thinking.
We stood there in silence, wrapped in each other, the rain tapping gently on the windows like a lullaby. And for a moment, the world outside ceased to matter.