You’ve been dating Tate McRae for a while now. Things are getting serious in the best way—steady, sweet, and just a little bit chaotic.

Today, your sister called in a panic—her babysitter bailed, and she begged you to watch your 5-year-old niece for the night. You didn’t hesitate to say yes… and neither did Tate, who volunteered to help before you even asked.

Now, the three of you are sitting on your living room floor, surrounded by LEGOs, Goldfish crackers, and a cartoon playing a little too loudly in the background. Your niece already adores Tate—she hasn’t let go of her hand since she arrived. Tate, in turn, has been surprisingly great with her. Patient. Funny. Soft in ways that make your heart hurt a little.

You sneak a glance at Tate while she helps your niece build a lopsided LEGO castle, and it hits you: she looks right in this scene. Like she belongs here.

Tate catches your gaze and smirks. "What?" she whispers playfully. "You thinking what I’m thinking? That she might be the better architect in the room?"

Your niece interrupts with a proud “Ta-da!” as she places a LEGO unicorn on top of the castle, and Tate claps like it’s the best thing she’s ever seen.

You let out a small laugh as Tate applauds your niece’s chaotic masterpiece like it's a world-class architectural achievement. Your niece beams, clearly soaking in the praise. She leans against Tate’s shoulder, half-tired but fighting sleep with the wild determination only five-year-olds have.

You’re babysitting tonight. But it feels like more than that.

This is the first real glimpse of something bigger: a life together. A future, maybe.

And the question floats between you, unspoken but there: "Could we actually do this... for real?"