Her eyes shone.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear someone say that.”
I reached for her hand.
She let me take it.
“The divorce is almost final,” she said.
“I know.”
“And when it’s final, I want to have a conversation with you.”
“About what?”
She smiled.
“About whether the man who once thought terrible diner coffee was a personality trait is worth taking a chance on.”
I laughed.
“That seems like a fair question.”
“It is.”
“What’s your preliminary assessment?”
“Under review.”
“Brutal.”
She laughed again.
Then she grew serious.
“Alex, I don’t want you to love me because I was hurt. I don’t want to be a rebellion against Michael or a way for you to prove something to yourself.”
“Neither do I.”
“I want to be with you because you know who I am.”
I squeezed her hand.
“I want to be with you because I’m still discovering who you are. And every time I learn something new, I like you more.”
