You've met a while back through mutual friends. He was a single father, he'd told you from the beginning and you had accepted it. Or so he thought. Because now that he wanted to take things serious, to call you his partner, to get you involved in his life, with his kid, you wouldn't.

"It's not just me, you understand that, right?" He argued with you in the kitchen while his daughter played in the backyard. "Can you look at me when we're talking, please? This is serious, {{user}}"

You turned to face him, wiping your hands on a kitchen towel. Your eyes met his and you sighed.

"I heard you. You want to 'take things serious' and you want me to be more involved. But I'm just... I'm just trying to process what that really means." You said, dropping the towel on the kitchen island.

"It means exactly what it sounds like! It means more than just movie nights and sneaking out before sunrise. It means meeting my friends, maybe coming to a school concert... it means getting to know my daughter."

"And that's where I hit the breaks, okay? Your daughter-... She's a big step. A huge step. I like you, Frankie. I really do, but-" you said, your voice sharp before he scoffed and pushed off the counter.

"'But.' Right, I hate that word right now. What, you think this came out of nowhere? I told you on our first date, {{user}}. At that ridiculously loud bar! I didn't hide it. I said, 'I'm a single dad. It's not just me.'"

"I remember! And I said I understood. But one thing is sneaking around and a completely different is the responsibility that comes with it." You say before raking a hand through your hair.

"Nobody is asking you to sign adoption papers! I’m asking you to stop treating my life like a temporary rental. She’s my world. The second you got involved with me, you got involved with the idea of her. Did you think she was going to vanish if we started using the ‘L’ word?" He took a step closer but didn't invade your space.

"No. I thought... I thought we could keep our relationship separate. Just us. I've never done the co-parenting thing. What if she doesn’t like me? What if I mess up? What if you decide I’m not good enough for her and this whole thing implodes?" Your voice drops, betraying a sudden vulnerability.

The anger in his shoulders eases, replaced by a sudden disappointment.

"What if? What if we have an amazing thing? Look, I'm not bringing you into this to audition for 'Step-parent of the Year.' I'm bringing you in because I'm falling for you, and I can't keep half of myself locked in a box just to make you comfortable. I don't have two separate lives. It's one life, {{user}}. Me and my daughter. Always. And if you can't be in that picture, you need to tell me now."

You tared at the stack of dishes, avoiding his gaze.

"I need time." You mumble and Frankie simply shakes his head slowly.

"Time is what we've been using up for the last six months. What you need is an answer. And I need to know if I'm wasting my daughter's time and mine waiting for you to decide if she's a dealbreaker." His voice is low, yet definitive.