1st March

Nathan is still in bed sleeping from his night out at the pub. Though I think it was the time we spent in bed after he got home that really tired him out.

This morning I have to talk to Lydia about Nathan and I. This sneaking around is getting dangerous, especially because I'm finding it harder and harder to keep my hands off Nathan. I'm in love with him, I want to be in love with him and I want all the things that come with love.

Lydia and I decide to go out for breakfast at the diner. That's not where I'll break the news, because doing it in public would be unfair. But a nice morning out together might help when it comes time to tell her I'm in a new relationship.

I leave a note for Nathan on the bench, telling him he can join us if he wakes in time and then we go.

The morning is chill, there's no snow but the roads are slick and the front lawns glitter with frost. Sometimes I think about moving to California for the sheer fact that I wouldn't have to deal with these temperatures.

I thought about moving a lot after Josh and I broke up.

Now I'm thinking about Nathan and how I couldn't stand to be apart from him. He'd never leave Castle Rock.

Like a crashing wave, I'm hit with this creeping sensation of doubt. Doubt over whether or not I'm doing the right thing. I haven't been single for more than three months and now I'm head over heels in love with another man. It's not Nathan causing doubt. It's me and the way I might've thrived in California if I gave it a chance.

I went to Denver for Josh.

I'm thinking about hanging around in Castle Rock for Nathan.

Sure, mom is here too. But she wouldn't have held me back. Is it time for me to do something that I want to do?

I could do online courses wherever I am, I could get into teaching in California, or wherever. When have I ever made a move because I wanted to, not because it was expected of me?

One thought about the cold weather and I'm spiraling into a deep pit of what if's?

Lydia and I get a table in the diner and all I can think about is whether I'm moving too fast or too soon. I can't tell her about Nathan if I'm having these impulsive thoughts to spread my wings. I do love Nathan, I'm in love with him but haven't I learned that situating myself somewhere for the sake of a man is not the recipe for true happiness?

Lydia sips her hot chocolate on the other side of the small square table while I slip my phone out and start texting Dallas.

Would you let Lydia and I move in with you if we wanted to move to California?

My phone clunks down on the table top when I drop it with little care and push my hands into my hair, letting out a long sigh. This isn't right, this restless stir I feel to see what else is out there. Nathan is the best thing that has ever happened to me, I'm in love with him and it doesn't make sense that I'm . . . scared. None of these sudden feelings make sense.

"Baby," I look at the little girl across from me, her chin almost touching the table top because she's so small in her seat. Her brows lift a little, indicating that she's listening while she sticks her fork into a piece of bacon.

"If you could live anywhere, where would it be?"

Her chin tilts up, eyes narrowing in thought. I love how her answers get so much of her attention. "The Encanto village," she bounces in her seat, full of excitement at the prospect of living in a place made of magic. I'm not sure if it's based on a real village or fictional for the movie, but it's a little out of our league regardless.

"As much as I love the idea of living in a beautiful little village in Colombia, I more meant—"

Her titled head and curious stare just exacerbates the conflict I feel. I can't ask her a question like that and expect her to give me the answers I'm seeking.

"Never mind."

"Why would we live somewhere else?" She asks, pushing hair off her face while she chews.

I didn't do her hair this morning. That's become Nathan's thing. He brushes and ties it each morning and instead of doing it before we left for breakfast, I forgot. I'm hit with another pang of guilt for relying on him too much.

"I don't know," I fold my legs under the table, knee brushing the steel frame.

"I like living with Nathan."

"Yeah?"

She gives me one big nod, dramatic but full of confidence in her answer. "Yes, he's the best."

"Can I tell you something," I ask, deciding to go slow with the confessions, even though it didn't go in my favor last time. Lydia looks at her plate, giving me a thumbs up and I lean over the table. "I have a little crush on Nathan."

Her head snaps up, her mouth falls open and then she starts giggling. "Mommy," her high pitch squeal of laughter is so contagious I can't help but laugh as well.

"What?" I ask, bewildered at her response.

"You have a crush on Nathan?"

I can't tell if it's a question or a statement but I give her a little shrug and fold my arms on the table top. "Yeah, so what? I like him. He's cute."

"Do you want him to be your boyfriend?!"

Her voice is getting louder and I look around the cafe with a warmth in my cheeks. It's not packed but most tables are full now and I catch a few of the closer patrons smiling in that polite way that other parents do when a child is being loud in a public place. It's that smile of understanding, don't worry about her volume, we've been there, we get it.

Looking back at Lydia, I get even closer, gesturing for her to lean in too. She's all jitters and scandalous giggles.

"Should I ask him to be my boyfriend?"

Lydia nods so hard she almost falls off her seat and I feel a wave of relief. At least I don't have to be concerned that she'll neglect the idea of he and I together.

That's what I wanted, right? For her to be on board. Now I feel even deeper, not trapped, but not free. I don't want to be that mom that introduces her child to a man, just to move on a month later and give her commitment issues.

"Would he be my dad?" Lydia asks and that's when I feel the hand of doubt grip me at the throat.

Answer that question without fucking it up.

Step dad's have the potential to be fathers. I'm not against the idea that DNA is just that. . .DNA. It doesn't matter who made the child if that person isn't willing to step up and do the role of a parent. Nathan has that potential, but to slap that label on him right now, so soon, I can't.

So how do I answer that question without stripping her of the hope that perhaps one day, that's exactly what he could be to her. I don't want it off the table, it's just not the right time.

A chair drags across the floor beside us, the metal feet on the wooden boards and I look up to find Nathan in a fitted jacket, the collar up around his neck and his jeans and boots on. He smiles at both of us and I wonder if he heard what we were talking about.

"Morning," he sits between us and winks at me. "Thought I'd come down and see what you girls want to do this morning."

He's so beautiful. He's hot. So hot and sweet and thoughtful and I would be insane to risk losing him. But I'm scared of losing me too. My entire life has been about pleasing other people and I know Nathan would never stifle whoever I want to be but I wonder if I can risk getting lost in a relationship again so soon.

I genuinely have no idea what the fuck to do.

"Do you want to be my mommy's boyfriend?"

Nathan's brows shoot up and I gasp, a harsh, strangled gasp because how could she? I trusted her. Well, I didn't tell her it was a secret, but still. I'm mortified.

I'm also not mortified because Nathan knows I love him. I forgot that little fact for a moment and then instead of feeling mortified, I'm humored and slap a hand across my mouth to stifle a giggle. Nathan palms his jaw, looking over at me for help on how to navigate this conversation.

"She has a crush," Lydia drives the knife in deeper and I drop my head into my hands.

"Me too, kid."

I peep at Nathan as he settles back in his seat, legs spread under the table. I can feel his knee touching mine and that small contact alone makes me light headed.

His smirk gets to me, talks to a much deeper hidden part of my body because it's just so sensually subtle that I'm becoming a quiet mess right where I sit.

Lydia gets down from her seat and comes around to stand between Nathan and I. She picks up his hand and rests it on top of mine. Nathan's still wearing his rings and leather bands and his big strong hand sits so alluring over my much smaller one. I love how it looks, how it feels. I love that Lydia is the one who put it there.

"There," she points at both of us. "Now you're in love."

I stare at her. "Because we're holding hands?"

"Yes."

Nathan wraps his fingers around mine, securing his hold as his thumb creates circles on the top of my wrist. "Can I give your mom a kiss?"

Lydia slaps her hands over her face. "Okay, I'm not looking."

Nathan just smiles at me, it's so soft and appreciative, full of relief that we're here now, we did it, we told her. I feel relieved too, even if I am conflicted on how to navigate the near future and what it might hold.

Momma has Lydia for a sleepover that night. Nathan and I tell her we're going on our first date, even though we're well past dates and all I want to do with him is get lost in the throes of passion and undoing. That's far too much information for her though.

Nathan and I decide to go to the night market in town. There are dozens of food trucks, stalls, music, art, even dancing. The atmosphere is majestic, the lights glow, the mountains of Castle Rock are a beautiful back drop, stretching right along the horizon with a glow of blue casting a halo above the peaks.

Nathan and I walk hand in hand, taking it all in.

"Lydia took the news better than I thought she would," Nathan comments, the brick path beneath us covered in chalk drawings.

"I've been thinking about that," I muse. "I think it's because she loves you so much. You're a constant in her life and a safe person. She needs that right now."

Nathan peers down at me, the corner of his mouth elevated in a gentle smile.

We come to a stall selling candles and wax melts, the scents are all labelled after different book characters. Some I recognize and some I don't. Nathan waits while I scour them all, fawning over familiar comfort characters and their smells. I end up with five candles in a tote bag, which Nathan holds in his free hand.

His other one slips straight back into mine.

After we get a corn dog each, which Nathan detests eating but scoffs it down all the same, we head over to a stall selling sporting merchandise. Football hoodies, caps, socks. Nathan holds up a Bronco's jersey, it's huge, it would be over sized even on him, but he puts it up to me and nods.

His voice goes lower as his gaze roams over me. "This. Nothing on, but this. Fuck me."

I'm pooling at the pure hunger in his tone. "You have some specific taste."

He drops the jersey and smirks. "You, you're my specific taste. Clothes or not."

"Perhaps we should go lingerie shopping together," I suggest with a little pop of the shoulder. "I do need some new lace."

He tips his head back, teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

Doing a quick sweep behind me, I notice we're alone for the most part, but there are customers approaching and this isn't the most appropriate place for such a private conversation. The girl running the stall is sitting at the back on her phone when Nathan tosses the jersey back onto the table and slings his arm around me.

"Is the mall open? Let's go and do that."

"At this time of the night?"

He keeps me close to his side, a disappointed groan reverberating through him that we can't go and behave indecently in the change rooms of a lingerie store. It's giving me ideas but I don't think I'm that adventurous.

Nathan and I wander for bit further and end up watching a violinist strumming Need to Know by Doja Cat. I love the instrumental versions of pop songs. It sounds so classic and elegant. My phone gets a text while Nathan walks over to the girl's violin case to tip her.

It's Dallas.

Of course you guys could move in with us. We'd love that. But is everything okay there? Has Nathan done something?

I'm not going to text her back now, not when Nathan is sauntering back to me, his slow and relaxed pace is demanding, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the tote. His walk has this confidence and strength in it that makes me weak in the knees.

When he gets back to me, he slips his arm around my shoulder and tucks me in close to his side.

I peer up at him. "Nathan?"

He graces me with his attentive stare, the one that makes me feel safe and heard.

"What if I told you I want to become a chef? Like, I wanted to go to college and get a degree in culinary?"

His brows pinch, mouth pursing like he doesn't know how to answer such a bizarre question and I don't blame him. Soft ambient lighting from string lights glow on his skin, the shadows dance on the planes of his face and the music is enchanting.

"That sounds great. I mean, I can't see the downside to having a girlfriend who can cook well. Not that you don't cook well now, but—"he screws up his nose— "I'm digging myself a hole."

"I get it," I dismiss his fluster and peer behind me when someone walking past bumps my shoulder. He doesn't apologize but I don't give much of a shit when I'm dredging up hypothetical situations to test my boyfriend with.

I'm unhinged.

"What if I wanted to start knitting? All the time."

He once again appears confused, I watch his profile as he stares at the musician but his thoughts are clearly elsewhere. When he looks at me again, his smile is unsure. "Knitting is cool. It's a good skill to have."

"What if I wanted to foster kittens."

The song changes, I don't recognize it at the moment but the chords are elegant. "I'd think we might need to get a few things. Scratching posts, litter, feeding bowls. We can do it, just give me a heads up so I can sort a space."

I'm speechless for a beat and then he chuckles.

"Lydia would love fostering kittens."

I feel like there's nothing he wouldn't support and it starts to chase some of the doubt from me. I can grow and become me, I can self discover and explore and I can't imagine he would ever prevent me from doing it. I can't imagine he wouldn't love whatever I find within me.

Does it make me pathetic or weak or too dependent to want to have him more than I want to be single?

Nathan slips his arm off my shoulder and turns, facing me front on, the tote bag of candles swings beside him. "Baby, what's this about?"

I exhale, deep and long, not able to look at him because I feel manic and ridiculous. Communicating was never really something I felt safe enough to do. Josh said my feelings were irrational, a victim complex. Whenever I tried to express what I felt, it turned into a fight.

Nathan's never made me feel like I can't tell him what's on my mind. As safe as I feel, the trepidation is still there, the anxiety that my feelings will send him off the handle.

"I haven't had a chance to really get to know who I am," I confess, staring at the brick below, littered with corn dog sticks and straws. This place is beautiful until the evidence of people's blatant disrespect shows up.

Nathan grips my chin and tips my head up to meet his adoring gaze. "You're worried you're rushing into this relationship without taking the time to be single first?"

I swallow because I'm terrified of where this is going.

"This is what I was worried about," his voice is almost too quiet to hear over the music. "I didn't want to steal that time from you, Gabrielle."

I'm not sure what to say, it's hard to make sense of my own feelings, what I think my life needs, what I want, how I feel now that this is all real and I'm scared.

"Listen," he murmurs. "You should tell me these things, these feelings. I want them. We're in this together and I want you to feel like you can discover yourself. I'm just asking, if you've got room for me, let me be part of it."

His love for me is breathtaking.

"I'm never going to dispute a single adventure, baby. I just want to come along. I want to help. If you want to go to college, I can take on more responsibility with Lydia. I want that for us."

"What if I wanted to move to California?"

He flinches now, his features glossing over with hesitation. I know how Nathan feels about leaving Castle Rock. How can I ask that of him, to follow me? How can I be so cruel as to steal his heart and then threaten to leave with it? It puts a sour taste on my tongue. It's not like I'd given him any indication I wanted to move before. To him, it must seem like a cop out, a chance to run.

"You want to be close to Dallas?"

"I don't think that's the main reason."

He lowers his face, forcing me to meet his eyes. "You don't think?" His statement isn't rude or harsh, it's just curious. "You're not sure?"

"No, not really," I admit, embarrassed because I've made a big deal over something I'm not sure I understand.

"Gabrielle," his thumb moves slow and soft over my jaw and his eyes bore so deep into mine that I feel a language of their own exists between us. One I'm becoming more accustomed to each and every day. "I think I would follow you to the ends of the earth. It's never even occurred to me that home could be a person, that I could find room to start new with someone I love instead of holding onto what my parents left behind."

I'm sick of crying, so I don't, but I feel the swell of emotion threatening to burst out of me in violent tides of relief.

"If you want to move to California," he says. "Just give me a little bit of time? There would be a lot to sort out. But I would go."

I throw my hands around him and kiss him so hard, we stumble. He catches me though, he always catches me.