She laughs, and the sound fills my kitchen in a way that makes it feel more like home than it ever has.
"You're insatiable."
"Need I remind you, it's been seven years, Len. I have a lot of lost time to make up for."
She comes over to where I'm leaning against the counter, slides her arms around my waist, looks up at me with eyes that are bright and happy and completely unguarded.
"No regrets?" I ask, needing to hear it again.
"Not a single one." She stands on her toes to kiss me. "You?"
"My only regret is that it took us this long to get here."
"We had to grow up first," she says quietly. "Had to become who we needed to be."
"Maybe." I pull her closer. "But I'm done waiting. Done being apart. Done pretending I can exist without you."
"Good." She rests her head against my chest. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
We stand like that for a long moment, just holding each other, and I let myself feel the full weight of what this means.
She's here and we finally chose each other.
After everything—after Scott, after addiction, after all those years of her absence in my life—we found our way back.
"I need to go see Nick later," I tell her, running my hand through her hair. "And my mom. There's some stuff I need to talk to them about."
She shifts in my arms, propping herself up so she can see my face properly.
"Everything okay?"
I hesitate, realizing she doesn't know this detail about my life yet. That there are still pieces of the time we've spent apart we haven't shared with each other.
"My, uh... Dominic Torres. My biological father. He came to see me yesterday."
Her eyes widen slightly. "Wait, what?" She looks at me, giving me her full attention. "Your biological dad? Nate, I didn't even know—when did you find out about him?"
"Mom told me right after Jake—" I pause. “She told me years ago that Scott wasn't my biological father. She told me his name was Dominic and Scott had made sure I never knew him."
"Shit. And now he just... showed up?"
"He saw the Rolling Stone interview and had been trying to call." I run a hand over my face. "Turns out Scott had him sent to prison on false charges when I was a kid. He went away for six years. So he couldn't come back for us even if he wanted to."
"Jesus, Nate." Her hand finds mine, laces our fingers together. "That's—that's a lot to process."
"It is," I agree. "But weirdly? It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. He was nervous, honest about why he stayed away. And I just... I didn't have anger left for him. I used it all up on Scott, I guess."
She studies my face the way she always has, reading the things I'm not saying.
"How do you feel about it now? Really?"
I take a moment to consider the question honestly.
"Maybe a little hopeful? Like there's a possibility of something there if we both want it. But I'm not rushing into anything. I've done just fine without a dad until now."
"Are you going to see him again?" She says softly.
"Eventually. But first I need to talk to Mom about it." I pause. "Figured if anyone deserves to know he's back, it's her."
