“Funny story,” Joy says, throat tight from struggling not to cry. “This strange thing happens to my knees sometimes where they disappear. I would get up, but I’ll probably just fall on account of not having knees, so if you could just come over here. Please.”

Fox’s face folds in confusion but he does as she asks, bringing the second chair around the table and sitting in front of her.

“I had—” Joy stops to catch her breath because that’s gone too. “I had no idea you felt that way about me.” Her voice cracks and so does the rest of her. She’s crying and trying to talk and it’s not working.

“Joy, please don’t cry.” He wipes her tears with his thumbs while she tries to stop hyperventilating.

She launches herself at him—arms around his neck and holding on for dear life. She finds enough control to wail, “How could you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, as he holds her. “I thought you’d like it.”

“Of course I like it!”

Sometimes she can be a little weird around strangers.” Joy unlocks her door. “It’s best to let her come to you.” As expected, Pepper flies to the front door, squeak-meowing for Joy to pick her up.

Fox places the take-out boxes on the counter.

“Pep, this is Fox. Remember in the video Mommy showed you?”

“You showed your cat a video of me?”

“Shut up. Nobody asked for your judgment. Here, hold her.” Joy smiles as Pepper passes between them with no complaints. “I’ll get some plates.”

After setting up the coffee table with their food, Joy runs to the bedroom to change into comfy pajamas and grab some blankets and pillows. They sit together on the couch, watching the next Nicolas Cage film on their list while they eat. A fabulously low-key evening that suits them both perfectly. Joy sits in Fox’s lap, her back to his front, and he wraps them up in a blanket.

When the credits begin to roll, Joy is full of food, dizzy with happiness, and her old lady timer is about to start screeching. She yawns, then says, “If someone told me how this past week would play out in advance, I probably would’ve laughed myself to death.”

“So I’m a joke to you?”

“Now isn’t the time for wordplay, don’t do that,” she whispers quickly, and he laughs. “Everything’s changing so fast. I want to be okay with it, but I’m high-key kind of scared. I need to tell you something.”

Fox tightens the blankets around them, pulling her closer. “Go for it.”

Joy says, “I was fourteen when I realized I was asexual. I didn’t know that word existed yet. I just knew I was different. I remember the exact moment it happened, down to the smallest detail.”