A fractured fairytale

36

"So," I started as Rose began to pack up her things at the end of our session the next morning. I'd been burning to ask her a question all morning but I knew better than to interrupt her while she was trying to teach me all the relevant information for my history assignment. It made her grumpy. She tilted her head, giving me her full attention, hand suspended in mid-air, holding the text book she was about to stuff into her bag.

"Now that we've established that you are, in fact, my girlfriend-," I said, smirking when she flushed. It was cute how shy she was. "-I have something to ask you."

Her eyes narrowed and she resumed shoving her books away. "Okay?"

She sounded nervous.

I leant back against the desk beside her. "Would you come to dinner at my house one night this week?"

"What?" She twisted back to me, one arm still buried in her bag, eyes wide and lips parted.

"Please," I said, reaching down to take her other hand, "my parents really want to meet you and I'd really like you guys to meet."

Her gaze lowered to where I was holding her free hand and then flickered back up to my eyes. "I-," she released a shaky breath, "I...," she started to stutter, head shaking while her hand squeezed mine as though she never wanted to let go. The sight of her lip quivering made my heart clench and I squeezed back, trying to offer her some comfort while her eyes glossed with tears. "I don't know," she eventually muttered.

"I know it's a big ask," I said, stroking my thumb over her fingers to try and calm her. "I understand if you're not ready, but I promise you, they're going to love you."

Again, she started to shake her head. "I...I wouldn't... I'd make a fool of myself."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course you wouldn't."

"I wouldn't even know how to talk to them!" she exclaimed. "I wouldn't wear the right thing or say the right things and I wouldn't eat with the right fork or know anything about the fancy wine. There's no way your parents are going to approve of me, Matt." Tears started to spill over her lower lashes now and she tugged her hand out of mine to wipe them away. "I'm not right for you."

I lowered in front of her so our eyes were level. "Rose, you're overthinking this. My family might have money but they're far from fancy. You wouldn't use the wrong fork because there would only be one. Honestly, my parents would be happy to order pizzas if that's what you want to do. They're just excited to meet you and I know they're going to adore you."

I reached up and swiped her cheek, flicking her tears away. "I don't want them to disapprove," she mumbled, eyes still downcast.

"They wouldn't. I wouldn't ask you to do this if I thought for a minute there was a chance that they wouldn't like you. I promise you, as soon as you step into my house, my mom will hug you and then she'll spend the rest of the night gushing over how amazing you are. And my dad will probably be threatening me by the end of the night, telling me that I'll regret it if I ever hurt you," I told her, cracking a smile, although she didn't reciprocate it. "You've got nothing to worry about, I swear."

She finally looked up to meet my gaze, eyes still shimmering with tears. "It's not just them though," she said, voice barely a whisper, "you've got so many siblings too."

I shook my head. "You don't need to worry about any of them," I told her, "honestly, they'll be so focused on the food they probably wouldn't even notice you were there."

She nudged me with her knee. "I'm being serious."

"Just think about it, okay?" I asked, wiping away the last of her tears. "If you're not ready then that's fine, there's no pressure. But if you change your mind, I promise you that it will be fine and you'll see you had nothing to worry about."