I wait for Cas to come back, but he doesn't.

     I wait for him on Wednesday, and I wait for him on Thursday, and I wait for him on Friday but he never shows. I don't say anything to anybody, not even Ashley. We actually have one of our best sessions. I tell her about Gael coming and what that could mean for Weston's After Hours. She says, "Well, what could that mean for Weston's After Hours?" And I tell her that maybe I make it a real restaurant. I'd have to lease the second floor of the building Weston's is in. There'd be a lot of reno involved. And I'd have to hire and train so many people.

     But then she says, "You're getting ahead of yourself."

     And I say, "You're right, I am. Gael could give me a one-star review."

     "No, who cares what Gael says? If this is what you want, do it. But don't psyche yourself out before you even start. Yes, it'll be work. Yes, you'll have to make big decisions about who does what and actually delegate work. But if it's what you want, go for it, Dres."

     I want to tell her, then, that I did go for it.

     That I went for what I wanted, and it was a miss. But I told Cas that it didn't matter, that I would be okay and so I'm going to be okay. Because odds are I'm going to have to see him again. Our families are too friendly, now. So I'm going to suck it up and be okay with not being okay. But I refrain from telling Ashley, and Jack, and Amelia, all of whom are coming to Saturday night's After Hours. Maybe I'm just not ready to accept this reality and telling them makes it real.

     I spend Friday prepping. I make practice pasta, have Dolores and Charles taste test it before I do a run-through of the whole menu. It'll be the pork crostini's, then a sausage and Swiss chard Orecchiette, and for dessert, a blueberry compote Panna Cotta with candied walnuts. It's an Italian-focused menu, which is tricky because true Italian food is different than the butchered version you see more often. I'm either going to nail this, or be black-balled from the food industry.

     Tasha comes in early Saturday to help with set up. Unlike Rumi, she knows who Gael Greene is and understands the magnitude of the night. I asked Fiona and Antonio to come in early, too, since we have to roll out and make all the pasta. They're more than happy to when they hear that Gael Greene is going to be here.

     "Are you nervous?" Antonio asks as he deftly molds his pasta. Naturally, he's a champ at this.

     "Of course he's nervous," Fiona says. "Why would you even ask that?"

     Antonio's lips gets pinched the way they always do when he's fighting back a grin. "I don't know, he seems chill like a cucumber. Not everybody freaks out about everything like you," he says.

     "I'm definitely nervous," I say.

     "Aye, don't be nervous. Who is Gael, anyway, but a legendary food critic and writer. At least if she hates everything you cook, she'll write about it eloquently," Antonio remarks. "Watch your cuts. That's too dense. You want little folds like this." He holds up a perfect pasta.

     Fiona rolls her eyes.

     I laugh, saying, "Everybody's a critic."

     "Look, whatever happens tonight, it's still damn amazing what you've done here. I, for one, am especially honored that you chose to work with me."

     Antonio shrugs his shoulders. "I could take it or leave it."

     "That's an attitude you're supposed to expel, not something you actually voice," Fiona remarks.

     "You Americans with your nuanced behavior. Just tell it like it is."

     "You're American, fool," Fiona says.

     "To telling it like it is," I say.

     "Since we're telling it like it is," Antonio says pointing his knife at me. "Re-roll that one, too."

     We spend the next hour finishing up the pasta before I move on to the appetizer. We've got an hour before everyone will be arriving. When I'd checked the guest list, sure enough, Gael Greene's name was down for one person, no guests. I'd set aside a table for her on the platform and Tasha knew to seat her there.

     Dolores comes in before the doors open. I don't like rushing so even though we've only got twenty minutes to finish the appetizers and start plating, I'm moving leisurely around the kitchen.

     "Well, it smells delicious," she says. She's dressed nicely in a cream pantsuit. I'm feeling like she's going to want me to introduce her to Gael Greene. "Dresden, can I? Can you spare a second?"

     I look at Fiona and Antonio, who both nod that they're fine, before I step out of the kitchen and into the hallway. "I just wanted to say," she says. "That I am so proud of you—."

     I cut her off, "Dolores, we don't."

     She cuts me off, "No, let me. You never let me say anything nice, but you always take all the awful things I say. What is that about? You're a glutton. An absolute glutton."

     We're both laughing now. Just when I think I've successfully side-tracked her, she goes, "But, really, Dresden. This past year. All these years. I don't know. I think everything happens for a reason. I don't want to put meaning in a bullet wound because I'd take that event back if I could but — everything really does happen for a reason. So whatever happens tonight, just know that you're on a path. And even if you can't always see where it's going, I can. And it's brilliant. And it's going to be beautiful. And you're going to love it."

     "Because you're my mom?" I say after a moment, after the lump in my throat has moved enough for words to pass.

      She's gotten teary-eyed. Amazing how parents can talk themselves to tears, really. "You're damn right. Now go knock our taste buds off our tongues."

     "Way to set the bar extremely low," I tease. "No pressure or anything."

     At seven-thirty, prompt, Tasha comes in with the servers trailing behind her. She finds my gaze across the island and wiggles her eyebrows, mouthing, "She's here."

     The appetizers are ready to go, and we send them out. The nerves in my stomach have not settled one bit. The whole time everyone's eating I'm wondering if I undercooked the pork, which would be an absolute disaster. Imagine the headline — Chef Gibson food poisons town with poorly cooked PORK.

     We move through dinner seamlessly, and there's a small wait time before we can start dessert, because the Panna Cotta can't sit. I clean up what I can before I start candying the walnuts. Antonio excuses himself for his smoke break and Fiona's stepped into the hallway to check in with the sitter.

     "I've got the walnuts, if you want to start the blueberry comp..." I turn to the figure that's entered the kitchen, expecting it to be Fiona. It's not. It's Cas.

     He looks as dashing as ever in a suit dark enough to give midnight a run for its money. The jacket's buttoned at his middle. He's not wearing a tie, or bow, and the buttons at his neck are undone. It's the first time I've seen him outside of a shower with his hair curly. He hasn't manipulated it at all. It sits like it used to, like how I remember it, with a stray curl dangling across his forehead.

     I'm suddenly very winded. I turn the heat down on the stove, and turn to him, saying, "Cas, look, I really can't do this tonight..."

     He steps further into the room, saying quickly, "I am afraid of you, Dres."

     I look at him levelly, feeling like he's just punched me in the gut with that statement.

     Cas says, "I'm afraid that you are — that you're going to get tired of me or bored or decide you don't need me in your life and leave again. Or you're just going to push me away, with no explanation, with no obvious reason. When you say you'll love me from afar, all I hear is you love me but not enough that it'll stop you from walking away if you have to, if you want to, if the mood strikes you. And I realize that these are my insecurities. But they're insecurities you built in me."

     Cas takes a breath, moving again, so he's closer. So I could reach out an arm and extend myself to him.

     "I am afraid of you and I'm afraid that I'm never going to feel like this about anybody but you and I'm not a living, breathing person without you in my life, okay? I've been on, I don't know, autopilot for the last five years and the last three months have been more." He stops, looking down as he bites his lip. "They've been everything I've been missing. And I...maybe I would've been fine if I'd never seen you again, maybe I would've eventually moved on, but now that I have seen you, and touched you, and. Now that I have, I know that I can't go another five years without you in my life. Let alone another five minutes."

     I think I want to kiss him.

     I think I should definitely kiss him.

     Because this was a declaration, right? This was a proposal. This is what I've been waiting for, and I've definitely taken too much time to do the spontaneous kiss thing now, and what is my face even doing right now? I may be glaring at Cas.

     I'm overwhelmed.

     "Please say something before I have a heart attack," Cas says suddenly, his voice small.

     "Did you script that?" I ask and that's like not what I wanted to say.

     He's red in the face, nodding his head vigorously. "I did, yeah. Was it not very romantic? I've got a closing argument, if you want to hear that, too."

     I laugh quietly, because of course he does. "I'm all ears."

     Cas rocks on his feet, tucking his hands into his pockets. When he looks me in the eyes this time, I know what my face is doing. It's smiling.

     "I love you," he says. "I've loved you even when I've hated you. I don't think there was a moment where I didn't love you. You wrote that you didn't know who you were if you weren't in love with me, and neither do I. And I honestly don't want to know. So yeah, I'm all in, too."

     This time I don't hesitate. This time I do kiss him.

     This is my future, the one Dolores was talking.

     And it's bright, and it's beautiful, and it's with this boy.

     Cas pulls away first, because love declarations or not, Cas will always be Cas and it is a Cas-like thing to say something. "So I take it I made my case?"

     I fight back a grin, nodding my head seriously. "You've made your case. Defense is at a loss for words."

     Cas smiles. "Did I win over the jury?"

     I nod. "They're unanimous."

     "And what about the judge? He seemed on the fence."

     "The judge is absolutely smitten," I say.

     Cas leans in, kisses me lightly. "That's good cause the alternative would've been going to his chambers later, to further convince him."

     I caress his face. "Well, you know, I mean I wouldn't pull that option off the table completely just yet."

     Cas laughs and I swallow the sound as I kiss him again.

     That's when Fiona and Antonio return. Antonio makes a loud sound, like a hoot, but maybe more crass. "Aye, no celebrations, yet. We've still gotta feed Miss Greene her dessert."

    Cas and I part quickly. "Miss Greene?"

     "Gael Greene. Important food critic."

     He points at the ground. "And she's here? Right now?"

     I nod. "Yeah, she is."

    "Oh, shit, okay. Lemme go back out there, then. Do your thing." Cas turns to walk away and then halts, spinning back around. He glances over at Fiona and Antonio, who are staring at me like they do not recognize me all of the sudden. "So uh," he says, nervously but also in a much quieter voice than Cas can normally pitch. He glances at Antonio and Fiona again. "Just to clarify, you're my boyfriend, now, right?"

    Antonio full on laughs and I have to glare at him before I can respond. Fiona slugs him in the arm. Cas is flushing. Everything about this is comical. But I also think the sugar is burning for the walnuts.

     I step forward, hooking my arm around Cas's neck so it's in the crook of my elbow. I pull him in this way, kissing him deeply. "Does that answer your question?"

     "Yes, sorta, but like for the record—."

    "Calvin Sumner, you're so much more than my boyfriend. Calling you my boyfriend seems quite trivial in the face of everything, now."

     "Oh my god, are you proposing to me right now? I — I don't even know who these people are who are witnessing it."

    My eyes get wide. "What — no — I."

     Cas laughs and my heart rate returns to normal. "Oh! I so got you. Never shall he ever say again that I am not funny. I am the Seth Rogen of America."

     "That is like severely farfetched. And I'm pretty sure Seth Rogen is the Seth Rogen of America."

     "He's Canadian, my dude. In any event, now that we've made an absolute scene in front of..."

    Cas turns and Antonio raises his hand in a wave. "Antonio."

     "Fiona, hi, this was adorable."

     Cas's grin is tight. "Fiona and Antonio. I'm going to leave you to the cooking. It smells like something has very much burnt. So have fun with that."

     "That actually would've been a really cute engagement, you should've rolled with it," Fiona says when Cas has left.

    "He's hot, good for you," Antonio says. "But he's also right, you totally burned that sugar. And we also need to kick it into gear to get dessert out."

     After I finish cleaning myself up in the bathroom, I walk with Tasha out onto the floor. Usually I do my rounds starting at the nearest table and working in a circle. This time, I take a clear path to the back where Gael is seated. She stands when I walk up, holding a delicate-looking hand to me. She's an older woman, dressed smartly in dark slacks and a chiffon blouse.

     "The chef," she says. "It's a pleasure."

     "Thank you so much for joining us tonight," I respond. "I hope everything was good for you."

     She eyes me, critically. "You're new to this, aren't you? I've not read anything about you."

     I nod my head. "This is our third month running."

     "You have much to learn," she says after a moment. "But if you learn it, you'll go far."

     "Thank you?" I say unsure if this is a compliment or a judgement or a slight.

     Her comment doesn't bother me the way I thought it could, or maybe would. I'd been stressing all week about impressing Gael. It doesn't matter, though. I'm going to expand After Hours, whether Gael approves or thinks I'm the world's worst Chef. I'm chasing my dreams because I hadn't for so long. Because I'd settled for less than I wanted and for once, it feels like I can have everything I want.

     I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, which is here, staring at Cas across the room, knowing he's mine. Finally.