24. Brennan
twenty-four
Brennan
The Next Morning
T oday is a monumental milestone.
Yep. At thirty-two years old, it’s the first and only time I’ve ever met a girlfriend’s parents.
I’m not sure how it’s gonna go. Astrid’s been acting weird all morning. I can’t tell if she’s nervous about what her parents will think about me or what I’ll think of her parents. Either way, she’s been quiet on the drive over to West Seattle.
We arrive at Salty’s on Alki a bit earlier than our reservation and take a moment to enjoy the incredible view of Seattle’s skyline shimmering across the water like something on a postcard. This place is a Seattle institution.
“Have you been here before?” I take Astrid’s hand as we walk up the concrete steps to the front door.
She shakes her head. “Strangely, no. But my mom always wanted to eat here. I’ve invited them a few times and they’ve always said no. Today, I’m guessing you’re the draw.”
I hold the door open for her and we step inside. She looks around nervously, which kills me. Astrid is the most confident, put-together person I know and to see her being skittish freaks me out a bit. She’s shared stories of her family ever since we became friends, but I’m reconsidering whether this introduction should be in a public setting.
Well, we’re here. Seated by a large window with a panoramic view of the city. I place my hand over hers, give it a squeeze and look around the place. It’s nice, but definitely geared toward tourists rather than locals. It has a chain-restaurant vibe. A quick glance at the menu makes me realize we’re paying mostly for the location.
“They’ll be fine,” she mutters to herself a couple of times.
I brush a hair from her forehead and clear my throat. “So, uh… How should I act around them? Are there any topics I should avoid?”
“You’re not prepping for a board meeting, B.” Astrid raises her eyebrows and swats me lightly.
“Yeah…” I hesitate because I don’t want to screw this up. “But, I want to make a good impression.”
She sighs softly. “Just be you. Don’t overthink it. Trust me, they’re the ones who should be trying to make an impression on you.”
“Oh-kay.” There’s something in her tone that puts me on edge. “Hopefully they like me.”
“They don’t like anyone. It’s how they are.” Astrid gazes at me sadly.
I decide not to push. If there’s anything gleaned, Astrid’s family dynamics are complicated. Today’s brunch will be a real test for her, maybe for us.
I kiss her, sensing she needs some reassurance. “I’ve got you. I love you.”
“I love you too.” She wipes the lipstick off my lips and smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Jens and Brigitte arrive a little late. Her father’s tall and lanky, with a bit of a hunch, his thick, gray hair is slicked back. Brigitte is short and birdlike with long, silver hair and wire-rimmed glasses. They walk briskly toward us but seem like they’d rather be anywhere else but here. We stand as they approach.
“Hi, Mom, Dad,” Astrid greets them and hugs her father.
Jens pats her back awkwardly. When Astrid leans over to hug her mother, Brigitte stiffens. Like Astrid has a contagious disease. Hmm. Maybe she doesn’t do affection.
I extend my hand to her parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Gustaffson. Nice to meet you.”
Jens takes my hand and shakes it firmly but Brigitte barely looks at me. She turns to Astrid. “Brunch on the waterfront. I should have guessed.”
Astrid’s smile tightens, but she doesn’t say anything. Her eyes flick to mine for a moment, an apology buried in their depths. She knew this was coming.
We sit down and a waitress comes over with menus. As soon as Brigitte sees the prices, her face pinches with disdain. “Twenty-four dollars for avocado toast?” she mutters to herself but loud enough for everyone to hear. “Absurd.”
I watch Astrid closely as she skims the menu. Her fingers absently trace the edges of the paper, but she doesn’t seem to be reading it. She’s tense, almost like she’s bracing herself for whatever’s coming.
It hits me wrong. I hate she can’t be herself around her parents. This version of her is different—guarded, like she’s shielding herself from something I can’t quite comprehend. Yet .
The conversation starts slowly. After some—eh—pleasantries, Jens asks about my work. Before I can dive into anything about CognifyAI, Brigitte jumps in. “Technology,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I don’t get the obsession. Everyone glued to their phones, chasing after the next shiny thing.”
“I’ve told you about Brennan’s company CognifyAI.” Astrid takes a sip of water. “What I haven’t mentioned is when we first reconnected he agreed to help me with our high-school reunion. We came up with a cool idea and now we’re business partners in a new start-up we named Reuniverse. Brennan’s developed some cool AI technology with real market potential.”
I’m shocked to hear her talk about our project this way. Are they really only learning about it now? It’s been nearly two years since we had lunch at the Met. Why wouldn’t they know?
Brigitte rolls her eyes. “Billionaire tech people are the reason this country is going to hell, and AI? It’s ruining everything. What a waste.”
Ah, that’s why.
It’s funny, I have pretty thick skin when it comes to what I do. I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks, but when I glance at Astrid, who’s trying so hard to stay composed, she’s a shell of the woman I know. My girlfriend, who has more drive than anyone I’ve ever met, is quietly listening to her mother dismiss our work like it’s nothing.
And Jens stares out the window like a zombie.
“Well, it’s actually the opposite.” Astrid swallows. “We wanted to do something to help people reconnect with people who matter to them.”
“Unnecessary. More hiding behind computers. Sounds like another way to flaunt your money and buy big houses. For what?” She sniffs dismissively and takes a bite of her forty-dollar omelet.
Astrid looks down at her napkin and I can see her mentally withdraw from the conversation. I want to jump in, defend her, but I know it’s not my place—not here. Not yet.
I glance between Astrid and her parents, feeling like I’ve stepped into a conversation I wasn’t prepared for. I decide to change topics. To hopefully smooth things over.
Leaning forward in my chair, I gaze at my girlfriend lovingly before focusing on her parents. “Brigitte. Jens. It’s so great to meet you. Finally . My family adores Astrid. She’s a fixture at our Sunday night dinners when I’m in town—it’s like she’s known them forever.”
Astrid shifts slightly next to me, her smile tight, and I notice she avoids eye contact. Huh.
“She’s great with my nephews too. My oldest brother Connor has four-year-old twins,” I press on. “Torin and Tristan won’t leave her alone. They might both be in love with her.”
I expect her parents to respond, maybe smile or laugh, but instead, Brigitte sets her napkin down and shakes her head. Jens snorts, covering his mouth with a fist. I glance over at Astrid, trying to figure out what I said wrong, but she’s hunched over like she’s shrinking.
“Really, it’s no big deal.” She stares at her plate, her tone almost dismissive. “Brennan’s family’s great, I’m not there often.”
Wait, what? My heart sinks a little. She’s there a lot. And, no big deal? My family’s a big deal to me.
Brigitte looks at me directly and narrows her eyes. Her lips are pressed together in a thin line. “Every Sunday, huh?”
“Well, it’s interesting you’re spending time with someone’s family.” Jens clears his throat and gets a faraway look in his eyes.
Whoops. Way to read the room wrong. Whatever I said has added to the tension. The air is thick and uncomfortable. Astrid shrinks even further into herself, she’s closing off in a way that breaks my heart.
I’m missing something important and I’m not sure what it is.
As we leave Salty’s after brunch, her parents can’t get away from us fast enough. They don’t even give their daughter a hug on their way to the car.
I can’t help feeling unsettled. The awkwardness between Astrid and her parents gnaws at me. Their family dynamic is so different from my family—where even if we’re mad or disagreeing, there’s no question of the love between us. Astrid’s family, though… It’s like there’s this invisible wall, and I feel helpless trying to understand it.
“Let’s take a walk.” I motion for Astrid to join me as I head toward the waterfront path.
We stroll past the Seattle skyline bathed in the early afternoon light. The air is a bit cool, but the sun is warm. I glance over at Astrid, her hands are buried in the pockets of her jacket and her brow is furrowed in thought.
I hate it when she isn’t comfortable with herself and feel an overwhelming urge to ease the tension. “That was…uh, something. I don’t think I made a great impression. I’m getting an idea of why you’re always stressed after you spend time with them.”
“They don’t get me. I don’t get them either, to be honest.” With a heavy sigh, she stops to stare out at the water.
“Why ?” I’m genuinely curious. “Have you ever thought about looking into your family’s history? Seeing if there’s something to explain it?”
Astrid’s expression is hard to read. “What would I be looking for?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I guess if you’ve always felt this disconnect, maybe there’s something else going on. Could you have a heart-to-heart with your folks and tell them you’ve always felt like the odd one out?”
“Oh, jeez. That would go over like a lead balloon.” She narrows her eyes and her lips tighten. “And, no. I don’t need to dig up my family’s past to understand we’re different.”
“I get it, but what if there’s something they’re keeping from you?” I find myself unwilling to drop it because I want her to have some peace.
Astrid, however, is clearly frustrated. “Why are you being so pushy? You press too hard sometimes, you know?”
“I’m sorry.” I raise my hands in defense. “I know how much you love your family. I also know how much this hurts you. Maybe finding out what the story is could help.”
She’s quiet for a second, staring at me like she’s deciding on whether to say something. Or not. Then, she tilts her head and fires back, “Have you ever looked into your own tendencies? You get so focused on one thing sometimes and you don’t know when to stop.”
Shit .
As much as I’m taken aback by her retort and I’m not sure how to answer, she’s scored a direct hit. It’s so past time to tell her. I’m going to address it once and for all. Nevertheless, I glance away for a second to collect my thoughts before turning back to her.
She might never look at me the same way, so I’m nervous. I love Astrid. She’s my everything. I hope this doesn’t make her look at me differently.
“Actually,” I swallow the knot in my throat, “I have looked into it. When I was in college, I was diagnosed with something called hyperfocus. It’s a form of neurodivergence. When I get fixated on something, I can’t seem to stop. It’s worked well for me—my company, for instance, has thrived because it’s been my world. But, it also causes issues. As you probably realize. It’s a constant learning curve for me.”
Astrid’s eyes widen, flicker with surprise and a touch of hurt. “And you’ve never mentioned this to me before, why?”
“Well…” I look away, feeling the weight of everything I’ve left unsaid. “I guess…it never felt like something I should have to explain.” I try to tread carefully because I’m teetering on a tightrope. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone thinks and works differently.”
She nods, clearly waiting for me to continue.
I search her face for clues as to what she’s feeling. It’s nearly impossible to explain what’s so complicated in my mind. “A, I didn’t hide it because I thought you couldn’t handle it. I just… I didn’t want it to be something that changed how you see me.”
Astrid’s face is blank. She just stares at me.
Of course, I feel an uncontrollable urge to fill the silence. To make her understand. “It’s never been something I broadcast. Even in my own family, we barely talk about it. Not because we’re avoiding it—it’s because…well, it’s part of me, but not all of me.”
“Oh.” Astrid searches my eyes and I can tell she’s not satisfied with my explanation.
“I promise I wasn’t deliberately keeping it from you, I don’t want it to be a thing.” I take her hand. “I’ve learned how to adapt over the years, but I know I can be intense. I know when I’m focused I forget things…”
“Uh-huh. Like forgetting to tell me about something so critically unimportant in your life that you deliberately hid it?” Astrid pulls her hand away and looks at the ground. Kicks a clump of grass.
Fuck . I don’t want her to be upset. I scramble to explain. “No! I work around it. Like, when you were upset with me about not being in touch as often as I should have been, I set calendar reminders to make sure I didn’t forget.”
She looks at me so incredulously, her mouth drops open. “Wait, what?”
“Calendar reminders.” I smile proudly. “It worked.”
Astrid’s face contorts with pain. “Let me get this straight. You had to set calendar reminders in order to remember to call me. So, all along it wasn’t because you wanted to call me.”
“No, of course I wanted to call you. Why would you think otherwise?” I’m confused at what she’s not understanding.
“You know, Brennan. I postponed a lucrative showing to do brunch today. Why? Because I wanted to introduce my boyfriend, whom I love very much, to my parents who don’t give a shit about anything I do. Now I find out said boyfriend, after years of friendship, being business partners and lovers and—whatever the fuck we are—hasn’t trusted me enough to confide a critical part of his personality that he clearly is extremely bothered by.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “What is wrong with me? Why am I not enough for people who matter most to me?”
She turns and storms back toward the car, tapping furiously into her phone.
That’s when I know how badly I’ve botched it. I’ve had years of opportunities to fill Astrid in about my situation, but no. I was a coward. Afraid the woman I hope to marry would reject me for something out of my control. Damn. My stupid fucking insecurity may cost me the person who matters the most.
Even worse? I’ve made her feel like shit. Unworthy of my trust. It’s the last thing I’d ever want to do. Not when she’s the best person I know.
“Astrid. Wait! The truth is, I was scared to tell you,” I shout as I run to catch up to her.
“Yeah, because you thought I was so shallow I couldn’t handle it.” Astrid whirls around. Her face is stony now. A wall is up.
I step toward her. “A, I would never… No…”
“ Yes .” Astrid strides purposefully back toward the car. “I’m so pissed, I can’t even see straight. Pissed and hurt.”
I catch up to her. “A. C’mon . Please let’s talk about all of this.”
“I thought you were different. I never thought you, of all people, would fucking lie to me. Treat me like I’m gum on your shoe.” Astrid’s jaw is set. “I don’t want to talk to you . I need to be on my own.”
“Let’s drive back to your place,” I plead.
“ No . You go back to your townhouse. Or to your family dinner. Whatever . I don’t care. All I know is I won’t be there tonight.” She holds up her phone. “My Uber will be here in a minute. Give me some fucking space. We can talk when you come back in two weeks.”
“Wait! Astrid. I love you. Please, don’t leave like this.” I stop in my tracks as a Lincoln Navigator pulls up and she gets in.
She doesn’t answer.
The door slams shut.
And the love of my life drives off without another word.