The invitation came on a rainy Tuesday afternoon.
They were sitting together in the library, sharing headphones, when Steve turned to her and said, "My mom's making dinner Friday night. She wants to meet you."
Michelle blinked. "She knows about me?"
Steve gave a small smile. "Yeah. She's been asking questions ever since I started smiling more."
Michelle laughed gently. "So… should I be nervous?"
He paused, then looked her in the eye. "A little. But I'll be right next to you."
Steve's childhood home was nothing like Michelle had imagined.
It was quiet, neat, but there was a heaviness in the air. His mother greeted her warmly—kind eyes, tired smile—but there was something distant in the way she hugged her son.
His father wasn't there. "Working late," Steve mumbled.
They ate in the small dining room under soft lighting. Chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans. Simple. Comforting.
But every conversation felt carefully filtered.
"So," his mom said with a smile, "Michelle. You're studying literature?"
Michelle nodded. "And some psychology. I've always loved stories."
"She's a writer," Steve added quickly, proud.
His mom's eyes twinkled. "That explains the dreamy look."
Michelle laughed, then glanced at Steve, who was unusually quiet. His jaw was tense.
Later, as they helped wash the dishes, Michelle whispered, "Are you okay?"
Steve shrugged. "This house always makes me feel... like I'm twelve again."
She waited.
"My dad's not really around much. And when he is, he expects a lot. Mom tries, but… I learned early to keep things to myself. To not make waves."
Michelle gently dried a plate. "That's why you kept us quiet at school, isn't it?"
He looked at her. "Part of it. I've just never really known how to share my life. Until now."
She reached for his hand beneath the sink. "You're doing just fine."
That night, as they walked home under umbrellas, Steve stopped her under the streetlight.
"I've always thought strength was being silent. Holding it all in."
Michelle looked up at him, the rain catching in her lashes. "And now?"
He smiled—just a little. "Now I think it might be… letting someone see you."
He kissed her there, in the rain, like a boy unlearning fear.
And Michelle kissed him back, like a girl falling deeper into love.