July 21, 2026.
Sunday dinner at my parents’ house.
The one I’d been dreading for weeks.
Damien and I had rehearsed it in the car on the way over—what to say, how much to say, when to say it.
We decided on layers.
Start with the job.
Then the move.
Then… us.
Living together.
My parents greeted us at the door like always—Mom hugging Damien, Dad shaking his hand, both smiling.
They liked him.
Always had.
That made it worse.
Dinner was roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans—the usual.
Conversation easy at first.
Dad asked Damien about the company.
Mom asked me about freelance.
We ate.
Laughed.
Then dessert—apple pie.
I set my fork down.
Deep breath.
“I have news.”
They looked at me.
Smiles expectant.
“I got the job at Apex Creative. Full-time. Starting September.”
