Page 184 of My Real Love Affair

When the final notes faded and the lights came up, the audience erupted in a standing ovation. I jumped to my feet, clapping until my hands hurt. Austin stood beside me, his arm around my waist.

“That was amazing,” I said, my voice still thick with emotion.

“Come on, let’s get out of here before the crowds.”

We made our way out of the theater and into the waiting car. I was still buzzing with the emotion of the show, humming one of the songs under my breath.

“Hungry?” Austin asked.

“Starving.”

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up in front of Edge. A hostess greeted us at the door, her eyes widening slightly when she saw Austin.

“Mr. Bancroft, welcome. The family table is open. Follow me.”

She led us through the main dining room, packed despite it being late. It was a private corner table with a perfect view of the restaurant. It was intimate without being isolated.

“This is perfect,” I said, settling into my seat.

A server appeared immediately with water and menus, explaining the specials with a flourish. Everything sounded incredible, and I found myself unable to decide.

“Get whatever you want,” Austin said, reading my indecision. “We can share if you can’t choose.”

“That’s dangerous. I might order everything.”

“Do it. I dare you.”

We ended up ordering way too much food—appetizers, entrees, sides to share. The server didn’t even blink, probably used to excessive Bancroft orders.

The food started arriving, and it was every bit as good as Austin had promised. We shared bites across the table, stealing from each other’s plates.

As I savored a particularly delicious risotto, I let myself daydream a little. What would it be like to do this regularly? Not just the fancy dinners, but the normalcy of going out together, being a couple and building a life.

I imagined a little boy sitting between us in a booster seat. He would have dark hair like Austin’s, those same mischievous eyes and chubby hands reaching for everything on the table. We probably wouldn’t come somewhere this fancy with a toddler. It’d be more like family-friendly restaurants with coloring book menus and chicken fingers. But I could picture it so easily.

A little family.Ourfamily.

The image was so vivid that it took my breath away. This was what I wanted. A partner. A child. A home full of love and laughter and chaos. And I wanted it with Austin.

“Hey,” his voice cut through my thoughts. “Where did you go just now?”

I blinked, focusing back on him. He was watching me with those intense eyes, a small smile on his face.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, reaching for his wine glass.

I picked up my glass too and took a slow sip as I decided how much to share. I could tell him about the daydream. But that felt like too much, too fast, even though we already had the conversation about wanting kids eventually.

So instead, I smiled at him. “Everything,” I said simply.

“Everything is on your mind?”

“Everything.”

“That’s a lot to think about.”

“It is.” I squeezed his hand. “But it’s all good thoughts. Really good thoughts.”

We had eaten about as much as we could when our waiter returned once again.