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College. Careers. Where we’ll live. Marriage. Children.

Every single detail of a future I hadn’t even dared to imagine beyond graduation.

And somehow, in every version of it, he’s made room for me to become exactly who I want to be.

Not once has he asked me to give anything up for him.

Instead, he’s already figuring out how to make sure I’ll never have to

“Does that answer your question, sir?” Milo asks, still holding my hand in his.

Dad looks between us, and for the first time since this mortifying conversation began, his worries seem to have faded. He studies Milo for a moment longer before leaning back against the couch.

“I’ve always liked you, kid.” He glances at me, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You keep my girl happy, and you won’t have any trouble getting my blessing when the time comes. Although, judging by the way my daughter’s looking at you, that might be sooner than you think.”

“Dad,” I mumble, feeling my cheeks heat.

“What?” He shrugs. “Am I wrong? Do you really expect me to believe you’re going to keep this poor kid waiting to put a ring on your finger?”

Milo lifts my hand to his mouth and presses another kiss to my fingers, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I like my odds.”

Holy shit. I’m going to marry Milo Fletcher.

Dad turns the television back on, apparently satisfied that he’s fulfilled his parental duty.

Milo settles against the couch, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, and I curl into his side, resting my head against his chest.

For the next half hour, I stare at a television screen filled with men catching fish, without absorbing a single word of their conversation.

I’m too busy imagining the life Milo and I are going to have.

Our first apartment. Our first Christmas together. The day I publish my first book and find him standing in the front row, cheering louder than anyone else. The day he gets down on one knee and asks me the question I already know the answer to.

Every ordinary and extraordinary moment in between.

A lifetime with Milo by my side.

It’s going to be glorious.

“Maxine Morgan, please report to the principal’s office. Maxine Morgan, please report to the principal’s office.”

When I hear my name being called over the school’s PA system, my stomach immediately twists into knots.

“Shit,” Sienna mutters, looking at me with a distinctly unpleasant sense of déjà vu.

I can’t blame her. The last time I was summoned to the principal’s office, things didn’t exactly end well for me.

“It’s okay. It’s probably nothing,” I tell her as I gather my things and get up from my seat.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself as I leave my civics classroom and head down the hall. I know it can’t have anything to do with Dad. He’s home today, enjoying a rare day off work. Still, the sick feeling growing in the pit of my stomach tells me I should probably brace myself for the worst.

“Max!”

I turn at the sound of Milo calling my name and find him hurrying toward me, concern written all over his face.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in class?”