“Anything,” he said, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
“Relax. She’s not in love with you , Leo. She’s in love with the idea of a man who is safe, and kind, and fixes things. You’re the prototype. She’s just practicing.”
Leo froze, carving knife hovering mid-air. His wife, Elena, snorted into her wine glass. “Mia, honey, that’s… a weird thing to say.”
Elena rolled over, grinning. “I know. It’s adorable.”
“What’s your type?”
He took a slow, measured breath. He thought about his wife, about the comfortable silences and shared grocery lists. Then he looked at his daughter, her earnest, searching face. The crush wasn’t about romance. It was a question. She was trying to assemble a map of the future, and she was using him as the compass.
“Anything,” he said, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
“Relax. She’s not in love with you , Leo. She’s in love with the idea of a man who is safe, and kind, and fixes things. You’re the prototype. She’s just practicing.”
Leo froze, carving knife hovering mid-air. His wife, Elena, snorted into her wine glass. “Mia, honey, that’s… a weird thing to say.”
Elena rolled over, grinning. “I know. It’s adorable.”
“What’s your type?”
He took a slow, measured breath. He thought about his wife, about the comfortable silences and shared grocery lists. Then he looked at his daughter, her earnest, searching face. The crush wasn’t about romance. It was a question. She was trying to assemble a map of the future, and she was using him as the compass.
