She smiled.
God, I had missed that smile.
She sat across from me.
“I owe you an apology.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Karen.”
“I nearly kissed you because I was angry at my husband.”
I said nothing.
She continued.
“And because I wanted to kiss you.”
That surprised me.
“You weren’t supposed to say that part.”
“I’m forty-eight, Alex. I’m running out of patience for pretending.”
I looked down at my coffee.
Karen was forty-eight.
I was twenty-eight.
I had always known the difference.
Hearing the numbers made it suddenly enormous.
She noticed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The math.”
I laughed despite myself.
“It’s significant math.”
“Twenty years.”
“Yes.”
“My son is your best friend.”
“Yes.”
“I used to remind you to do your homework.”
“That was mostly Daniel.”
“I reminded both of you.”
“Fine.”
“And yet you still came over at midnight when I called.”
