She stared at me.
Then she stepped around the counter.
For a second, I thought she was going to kiss me.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around me and held me tightly.
I closed my eyes.
It wasn’t a romantic kiss.
It wasn’t a promise.
But it was the first time in months that I felt we were moving toward something rather than away from it.
When she pulled back, she smiled.
“Go home, Alex.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“Go home. I have to close the store.”
I laughed.
“You’re kicking me out?”
“I’m a business owner now. I have standards.”
I walked toward the door.
Then I turned around.
“Karen?”
“Yes?”
“When the divorce is final, can I take you to dinner?”
She pretended to consider it.
“Will there be terrible coffee?”
“I can arrange that.”
“Then yes.”
I left the store smiling like an idiot.
For the first time in months, the future didn’t feel like something I had to be afraid of.
