A contemporary romance novella about a graphic designer who says "girlfriend" before it's true — and then has to live up to it.

Nora Chen spends two hours before every date perfecting the version of herself she thinks he wants to see. Ethan Morin is a Québécois firefighter who deflects the brave parts of his own stories. She performs. He protects. Neither of them knows the other is doing it.

Then an accident leaves Ethan recovering, and Nora does something distinctly un-rehearsed: she stays. All night. In his jacket. Without a plan.

Now they're sharing a Montreal apartment, two opinionated cats, a winter that refuses to end, and a hallway that's exactly the wrong length. She thinks he's pushing her away. He thinks she can't wait to leave. He watches her fall apart and thinks it's the best version he's ever seen. He doesn't say it. Neither of them says it.

Best for readers who enjoy emotional slow burn, hurt/comfort, forced proximity, caretaking, quieter romantic tension, closed-door heat, and guaranteed HEA.

For fans of Emily Henry's quiet emotional weight.