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I drag the eyeliner along my lid.
“I talked to my mom,” he begins, “and she rather awkwardly admitted that my dad might not actually be my dad.”
I drop my eyeliner. “Whoa.” I turn to face him. Only one eye is lined and I’m sure I look ridiculous. “Are you okay?”
He nods. “I’m fine. It just…explained everything. Why he’s always treated me the way he has, and why I always felt like he resented me. Because he never knew, either, and I think deep down I was a reminder of that time in their lives.”
“They never did a paternity test?” I ask.
“I think my mom didn’t want to know. She wanted to assume it was his. She sounded pretty ashamed over the entire situation,” he admits.
“And you? Do you want one?”
He nods. “Yeah. I do. I want to know if I’m a Nash or not.”
“Will it change anything?”
He glances down at the floor and shakes his head. “Probably not,” he murmurs. “But I’m going to do one anyway. It won’t change my childhood, and it won’t make him a better dad. It won’t mend anything between us. But I’ll have the peace of mind of knowing one way or the other, you know?”
“Of course. I support whatever you decide.”
“And that leads me to the other thing I wanted to tell you…I spoke with your father.”
My jaw drops. “About?”
“I told him I was proposing to you and I wanted his blessing.”
“Whoa. Did he give it?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, but he said he’d talk to you, and if it was really what you wanted, he wouldn’t stop us.”
“Well, that’s as close to a blessing from him as we’re ever gonna get,” I say. “When was this?”
“Last week at the Gridiron.”
“So my parents know you were going to ask. Does your mom know?”
He shakes his head.
“Well, we’ll have to tell them soon since the podcast will publish tomorrow and I’m not holding onto it,” I say.
He chuckles. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Can we invite them for dinner tonight?” I ask.
“I think that would be a great idea.”
I let out a soft sigh, and then I walk over and drop a kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asks.
“For trying. For being you. For being everything I ever wanted.”
“Right back at you, JoLo.” He stands and pulls me into his arms. He plants a hot kiss on my mouth. “I’ll leave you to it,” he says as he pulls away, and I press my lips to his once more.
“Now go make me some of those world famous pancakes of yours,” I demand, and he laughs.
“Your wish is my command, my future wife.”
