Noah sighed, reading Violet's last text. He sent a goodnight text in return, but knew her phone would be off; she wouldn't see it until morning. He knew everything about her—impossible not to after twenty-four years. She knew everything about him, too, except one crucial detail: Violet was completely unaware that he'd been in love with her for over half his life.

It seemed illogical. She was intelligent, insightful about almost everything—except emotions. She'd been that way since childhood, deciphering intentions better than most, yet oblivious to the basic emotions of others. Her "people radar" was oddly skewed. Everyone else who saw them together could see it, but Violet couldn't, no matter how much people teased them about being married.

Noah didn't understand. How could she dismiss her brothers' teasing and still believe they were just friends? He was afraid to tell her, though. Violet romanticized love, the kind she read about in novels. She'd never admit it, but he'd seen her light up around chick flicks and other sentimental things. She'd never see him because he'd always been quietly by her side, without the drama of those male leads she adored. He'd dug himself a hole, incapable of loving anyone else.

It hadn't mattered much so far. Violet's few boyfriends hadn't lasted beyond a few torturous months. She kept the promise they made in high school, too. Even while dating others, she made time for him. Noah knew his place in her heart was the most secure.

For now, it was enough. He was searching for a way to make her see him romantically, but until then, he was content being her most important person. Flashiness wasn't his style. If he suddenly wooed her like a leading man, she'd think he was mocking her. That was the downside of knowing someone too well: any small behavioral change was noticeable.

He had to do this right. Failure meant losing Violet forever—a life without her was unimaginable, as she'd always been there. Since childhood, they'd seen each other almost daily. Even in different schools, they hung out on weekends and weeknights after activities. Violet's departure would leave a gaping hole. Noah knew he needed to act fast before some superficial jerk snatched her up based on her beauty alone—as all her other boyfriends had—but he wasn't sure how.

Changing his status in her heart required meticulous planning, something Noah wasn't known for.

"Why are you sighing, Sensei?" Joey asked sleepily, the only other person awake. Everyone else was in sleeping bags on the floor; the dojo owner, the oldest and with a bad back, had the only bed.

"Because women are complicated," Noah replied wearily. "Go back to sleep, Joey. You have a big day tomorrow."

"Okay," the kid yawned. "But don't worry about Miss Violet too much, Sensei. You have a big day tomorrow, too."

Kids could be surprisingly perceptive. But Joey had never seen another woman around Noah. Violet really did act like his wife. So why couldn't she see it?

Noah turned in his sleeping bag, shutting his eyes, desperately trying not to worry about losing the woman who meant everything to him.

===

Joey got second place in the finals. Instead of pride, he was angry about not winning first. Noah gave him a pep talk on the bus back to New York City. He didn't get home until 10 PM; the bus ride was four hours, they started late, and had a dinner stop. Then he had paperwork at the dojo. It had been a very long weekend.

Monday loomed. No proper rest; it was back to teaching. At least he'd see Violet. Maybe he could convince her to bring the rest of Nathan's apple rose puffs—they sounded delicious. As Violet's best friend, he'd enjoyed many of her brother's gourmet meals.

Nathan should open his own restaurant. Uncle Aaron would fund it; he was very supportive of his children. Noah was lucky to have supportive parents, too. His dad offered to help him start his own dojo if his current employer wasn't willing to hand it over in retirement. Cameron hadn't fully understood Noah's love of martial arts, but he knew it was good for him, so he supported it, as did Jennica; they'd never missed a competition or belt test.

They were lucky to have parents who loved and supported them, even without fully understanding them. Many of Noah's high school friends had parents imposing unfair expectations. As much as he loved Grandma Anna, she'd done the same to his mother, criticizing her Broadway dreams until Jennica landed her first role. His mother's support likely stemmed from her own experience with her mother. Whatever the reason, Noah was grateful. Not everyone supports a child choosing not to go to college.