He didn’t make a big deal out of it. Just a text.

Dinner at the manor. 7 PM. Wear something you like. No tie required.

Short, casual. Exactly like Bruce when he’s trying not to make something a big deal—even when it clearly is.

You’ve been seeing each other for almost eight months. Quietly. Late nights. Rare weekends. Coffee before meetings. Hands brushing under coats. A relationship tucked neatly between shadows and silence, one that always felt… fragile. Like a secret that might disappear if spoken too loudly.

But tonight, Bruce invited you to Wayne Manor.

Not just to visit.
To meet them.

The family.

The ones who drop from rooftops and kick in doors. The ones you’ve heard about, maybe even seen from a distance. And judging by the way Bruce looked at you when he said “I want them to know you”—this wasn’t just dinner. This was everything.

You arrive a few minutes early. The manor is massive, intimidating. But the door opens before you can even knock.

Bruce is there. In a black button-down. No tie, collar undone. He looks calm, but his eyes scan you like he’s counting heartbeats.

“You came,” he says. A little surprised. A little relieved.

Then, softer—just for you:

“Thank you.”