She looked at me, and I realized it was the first uncomplicated thing I'd said all evening. I had spent so much time explaining why I couldn't have something that saying I wanted it felt almost rude.

“Good,” she said, quietly enough that I had to watch her mouth to catch it.

I moved my hand across the last few inches of table.

“Can I say it now?”

She looked at my hand, then put hers in it.

“I want to see you when I have good news and when I don't. I want to take you out without needing an excuse involving deliveries. I want to know what you do on a morning when nobody needs you at the clinic.”

Her mouth softened. “Sometimes I sleep.”

“I'd like to make that possible more often.”

“You would have to negotiate with my brother.”

“I have limited confidence in that.”

She laughed, and the room changed around the sound. I had been waiting so long to stop being judged that I'd almost missed being invited closer.

“What are you asking me, Lane?”

“To be with me. Properly. With everything unresolved that you already know about, and without me making your decision for you.”

She studied me long enough that my thumb stopped moving against her hand.

“I'm saying yes to you,” she said. “I will still have questions.”

“You usually do.”

She glanced at our joined hands. “I need you to understand something else. I can't be the person you bring every decision to because you're frightened of getting it wrong.”

“I know.”

“Your lawyer handles the review. Your choices stay yours. I want to have dinner with you, complain about my day, argue about what we watch.”

“I have terrible taste in movies.”

“I've seen your recommendations. We may need separate screens.”

I laughed properly then, without checking whether I deserved to. She squeezed my hand, smiling at the sound, and I understood how much of an ordinary relationship she'd been offering while I kept arriving prepared for a verdict.

“I'd like all of that,” I said.

“And if something changes, you tell me.”

“Yes.”

She stood, came around the table, and bent to kiss me before I could decide whether I was allowed to hope for it.

I forgot the soup. My hand found her waist, then paused until she moved closer, her fingers settling against the back of my neck.

The kiss was warm and deliberate. When she drew back, she didn't go far.

“You've been staring at my mouth for weeks,” she murmured.

“I thought I was subtle.”

“You are many things.”

I laughed, and she kissed me again. This time I stood, carefully moving the chair aside so I could hold her without pulling her off balance.

She fit against me in a way I hadn't allowed myself to imagine for long. I felt the steady pressure of her hand between my shoulders and the small breath she let out when I kissed her cheek.

For once, I didn't search for the thing I was about to ruin.

Her phone rang from the counter.

She leaned her forehead against my chest. “Of course.”

“Answer it.”

“You see the glamorous life you're requesting?”

“I've considered the risks.”

She stepped away to take the call. I gave her space, cleared the bowls, and put the cake on two plates. By the time she returned, the kettle was boiling.

“Everything all right?”

“It can wait until morning.” She looked at the plates. “You remembered lemon.”

“I asked.”

“Keep doing that.”

We ate at the table with our knees touching. She told me about the earrings, bought on a trip she'd taken before the clinic became an answer to every question about her life. I asked where she'd go if she had a whole day, and she described a lake I'd driven past without ever stopping.

“Sunday?” I asked.

She checked her calendar. “After ten.”

I put it in mine while she watched, the simple act making me absurdly happy.

When it was time to leave, she took my coat off the hook and helped me into it. I turned before opening the door, unwilling to make another exit look casual.

“Can I kiss you goodnight?”

She caught the front of my coat. “I was beginning to think you'd forgotten.”

Outside, the air was cold enough to clear my head. The review letter remained in my pocket, every word still true. Beside it was a folded napkin with the name of the lake written in Maeve's hand.

I drove home with both.