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Claire sighed. “It’s not a dramatic story.”

“It doesn’t have to be dramatic to matter.”

She looked ahead. “They’re good people. We’ve just never understood each other very well.”

Noah waited.

“They thought moving here was impractical. Most things I wanted were impractical to them. They weren’t cruel. They just never really made me feel like there was a place for the version of me I wanted to become.”

Noah squeezed her hand.

“When I told them I was moving to Manhattan, they didn’t ask whether I was excited. They asked how much my rent would cost.” She gave a small shrug. “That’s kind of how it always was. Everything I wanted became a practical problem to solve.”

“Your family is different,” she said quietly.

“You deserved people who were excited because you were excited,” Noah told her. “And my family is your family too.”

Claire smiled. “I know.”

By the time they reached their building, the heaviness in her chest had eased.

“So,” she said as Noah opened the lobby door for her, “I was always in the story?”

Noah shoved one hand into his coat pocket. “Apparently.”

“You talked about me constantly.”

“You were constantly doing things.”

“Like going to work?”

“Very noteworthy.”

She bumped her shoulder against his. “You liked me.” They stepped into the elevator.

“Unfortunately.”

“Before the fake dating.”

“Long before.”

Claire smiled. “Good.”

Noah looked over at her. “Good?”

“I like knowing I mattered before I knew I mattered.”

“You mattered from the beginning, Claire.”

They stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway. Harold was unlocking his apartment when they stepped into the hallway. “Good date?” he quietly asked.

“Very,” Claire said.

He nodded toward Noah. “Evelyn was right about him.”

“She usually is,” Noah replied.

Mrs. Evelyn’s voice came from inside their apartment. “I heard that!”